As Bill Cosby once said “I know women, I married a women, so I know women.”
It seems much has been written and debated about the differences between women and men. Aside from the obvious physiological differences (men have to aim in the bathroom, women don’t) it’s what happens between-the-ears that so fascinates us. Actually, to be honest, it only fascinates women, who seem oddly compelled to unravel the great mystery that is the male mind.
Well, allow me to save some cognitive resources that would best be employed solving the middle-east crisis, because here’s what’s going on in the male mind: nothing.
Okay now that we’ve cleared that up…
Of course, an answer that simple couldn’t possibly satisfy a mind engineered to deconstruct and analyze each and every detail of human behaviour, as does the female mind. In addition to the remarkable ability to identify and catagorize the minutia of every human interaction, there is the capacity to construct multiple scenarios as a way in which to understand their meaning.
Ladies really, you’re giving us way too much credit. Let me reiterate: nothing. This blog is about as accurate an interpretation of what most men are thinking, and it would have stopped two paragraphs ago.
To put it bluntly, men like to do stuff. We like to build cool things, do cool things, and go to cool places…that’s about it. We don’t want to go to Mars for the betterment of humanity and scientific knowledge, we want to go so we can come back and boast to all our buddies.
“Hey dude, I went to Mars.”
“Oh yeah, what was that like?”
“Cool.”
I recall hearing once that the male obsession with building things was based on a deep-rooted jealousy of women’s ability to bear children. Really? And just how many men do you know who could handle, or would even want to handle childbirth? We’ll take the big belly part, but everything else, forget it.
I remember a time some years ago when my wife and I were still dating. We were sitting together on a sofa on a warm summer evening, she was nestled beside me, my arm around her shoulders, while music played softly. Suddenly, without warning she turned to me and asked the question that every male who has ever had a female companion will one day be asked:
“What are you thinking?”
On the outside, most men will don a fake smile and attempt to give off an appearance of serenity and calm as we thoughtfully consider the question.
Inside our brains, someone has shouted red alert, and little men in grey jumpsuits start running around, crashing into one another, as lights flash and sirens blare.
There are only two possible scenarios, either you were thinking nothing, or whatever thought you did have was something that belonged in one place, and one place only: inside your head. So, I gave the standard answer.
“Do you really want to know?”
This is about the most pointless question a man could ever ask a woman, short of can't I just wear this?
“Yes, I really want to know.”
So, I was faced with a dilemma. Either I make something up, which, given the state of the men in the grey jumpsuits, was highly unlikely to sound even remotely plausible, let alone sincere. Or I just go with honesty and hope against hope that her judgment would be lenient. One last hope for a deflection…
“You really want to know?”
“I really want to know.”
Oh, this beautiful, compassionate, loving woman with such high hopes for poetry and prose, so anxious to hear profoundly romantic and heartfelt words.
“Well,” I said with a sigh, “if you must know, I was trying to figure out how to reach my beer without pushing you off the sofa.”
Honestly ladies, the middle-east could really use your expertise.
No comments:
Post a Comment