What did he say?

Okay, admittedly it's been a bit since The Thurber Brigade traveled down the path of relationships, but bear with me for one more blog about SEX. 

Of course, by that I mean SEX and the AMERICAN MALE.  For those who skipped the last blog (shame on you by being scared by the title), here's a little description:

Take a zany trip through American culture all within the pages of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. Zack Hardiman loses his mind one day after he discovers he doesn't own a single T-shirt or magazine that isn't covered with advertising. After a short rehabilitation in Doctor Thomas’ World Famous Mellow Recovery Sanctuary, he begins an adventure to explore American life and soon discovers how advertising, politics and mindless sloganeering permeates and controls every aspect of our lives.

In SEX and the AMERICAN MALE everything is fair game in this quick, fun read as the author parodies and satirizes everything from America's fascination with massive gas-chugging autos to science fiction conventions.

Makes you want to log on to Amazon.com right now and buy it, doesn't it? Whatever.

That was a sly nod to the book by the way. I throw in a "whatever" now and then as a slight stab at Americans who use it relentlessly and usually as a form of conversational surrender.

The real purpose of this blog though, is so I can make up all sorts of silly statements readers of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE can make by being in possession of this funny, thigh slapping tome (did that description convince you to buy? Just $2 at Barnes & Noble)

Once you get SEX you will be able to impress your friends by saying:

• “Yes, I really enjoyed SEX last night.”
• "Sex last night was fantastic!"
• "Of course I enjoyed SEX on my flight to LA."
• "I have a little SEX every night right before turning off the light."

You can also try to make those relatives you are not fond of having over feel a little uneasy by casually saying these phrases:

• "My friends and I really enjoyed SEX last night—together."
• "My biker boyfriend and I so enjoyed SEX this afternoon, we may tackle it again tonight after you leave."
• "I laughed a lot during SEX the other evening. Your daughter did too."
• "The cops would probably be upset if they knew I was enjoying SEX while driving."

As you see, the funny and maybe a little bizarre statements you can make if you own a copy of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE are endless.  So buy a copy today (still just $2 at KOBO) and come up with your own SEX phrases.

Oh, did I mention the SEX FaceBook page? Surf over to it today and "like" SEX.

An Apology: I want to take this final moment to apologize to those readers who believe I am making fun of them because they might be a little queasy about seeing and reading the word SEX over and over.  Or to those who think I'm using it as a blatant ploy (like the advertisers I chide in the book) to get people to read this blog.  I am of course, but nevertheless, sorry.

SEX! This blog is all about SEX!

The Thurber Brigade takes another side step

Okay, this blog isn’t really about SEX. I’m sorry if I have evilly lured you in by using SEX in bold nearly ever sentence and in the title.  Why, it’s almost as if I’m using the word SEX to try to get people to do something like read my blog. Yeah, that’s evil.  I’m really writing about:

That’s right, I have a new eBook coming out shortly titled SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. It’s a humorous, satirical book about American culture and the running joke is that the author (me) keeps mentioning SEX all the time to make a point.

Here’s a snippet of the book’s description:

SEX and the AMERICAN MALE is a satirical jab at how advertising, politics, greed and more overwhelm the public and shape our society. This humorous book parodies everything from advertisements that use sex to sell massive gas-guzzling cars to mindless political parties and juiced-up science fiction conventions.

In other words, SEX sells.  Advertisers know that we humans, especially us male humans, are driven crazy by SEX.  Just seeing the word SEX makes us start to fantasize about all sorts of things and so they’ll use it to link to their product. So you may now be thinking about SEX, but also in your subconscious is that fancy new auto or beer. That’s why they don’t use Martha your 6^th grade teacher as a model in their ads, they use Bridget, the wafer-thin sex-pot model in a bikini.

Even though the woman actually sitting next to you in the car will invariably look more like Martha, the ad will still use Bridget to lure you in and seal the deal.

However, I don’t just make fun of advertising in SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. I also skewer greedy corporations, all the political parties and politics, mass consumerism, American greed, and of course, everyone’s short attention span.

HEY! SEX! No jumping over to that other person’s blog. Sheesh. I’m almost done you can hang around a little longer.

Anyway, I even wrap up the thing with “Clif Notes” (yes, I purposely misspelled that) to make fun of those of us who would look for a shortcut to reading the book we’re assigned in English class. In other words, I sort of spill the beans about what the book is about in my “Clif Notes.”

Two other great parts about the book:

1) I start the thing with an Ode to Douglas Adams. I began this book as a tribute to him, a sort of “Hitchhikers guide to American Culture.” With luck, the ode even sounds like his style of writing.

2) One of the main characters, and probably the most honest, is a group of microbes who make the main character go crazy. I even gave them their own chapter.  You’ll love them too after you read about them break dancing around, drinking Pepsis and singing in high pitched voices. Ahhh.

So be on the lookout for SEX and the AMERICAN MALE. It’ll be on sale shortly at all those fine eBook seller websites and will cost you less than $2!

Plus, once you buy a copy, you’ll be able to tell your friends things like:

“Yes, I enjoyed SEX last night.”

Or allude you’ve joined the “Mile High” club:

“Man, did I enjoy SEX on my last flight to LA.”

So get you some real soon.

I had to include a least one picture like this because, well, I always do. Plus, you are not going to find any in SEX and the American Male. You should buy it anyway.

(some images courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)

You lookin' at me?

Recently, a number of females complained about guys making rude remarks to them when they walked by (ie catcalls)and about guys staring too long at them. It reminded me how once again women just don't understand the nature of male/female interaction. This isn't just a case of men being boorish. This is all about how men must initiate contact. Yes, it all boils down to the fact that men must make the first contact.

 Think about it. We've actually come a long way from ancient times. Back in those days a guy would see a female he thought attractive, kill the man with her and drag her back to his cave or hut. Over time as humans became more civilized, and made laws against murder, it became more regimented. From arranged marriages to mail order brides. In modern times it has come down to men having to somehow convince the female to go back to his cave/hut by use of language and guile.

Oh, sure, those guys making garish catcalls are pretty lame (to put it mildly). However it really is just a case where they are not very subtle. Most men, although they may be thinking along the same lines (oh, what a babe) have become more refined over the years and if really interested will throw a line that might be more acceptable (need some help with those bags, ma'am?). So in other words, some men are crude, some are more, well, subtle.

 I have always thought that guys who resort to using rude remarks or catcalls are just very desperate and their sex drive has overridden their common sense. They are so in need of female contact that they almost revert to their ancient selves but instead of dragging the female off, try to lure her to their arms by playing to their vanity: "oh, babe, you're hot." No, it’s not smart, but their brains have been taken over by the overwhelming desire for sex.

In other words, yes I think the Masters & Johnson nonsense about how women have just as much drive for sex as men is goofy. That may be another blog down the trail, but just think about this: why are there millions of topless bars, porn mags, etc aimed at men, but just a handful for women?

So the male is thinking about sex all the time. Sometimes it gets so bad that the male can't help himself and just blurts out whatever is on his mind as a cute female walks by.

Staring at women is the same thing. We know that women won't make the first move; we know that they think we have ESP and can read their minds when they are interested; we know that instead of just talking to us, they'll try to drop some unfathomable hints. So the male is left to trying to express his interest. If he doesn't think that saying something will get her interested or let her know he's interested, he will instead resort to staring just a little too long.

The female though, unless the guy is a rock or movie star, will just think the guy is a creep and hurry on.  And who wouldn’t? It’s a testosterone thing for us men. Women may feel it’s creepy, but if a guy stares at another guy too long it’s a prelude to a fight.

“You lookin’ at me?"

(I've been waiting to get DE Niro in this blog for some time)

  

So the staring is one more example of the male’s brain being overwhelmed by the desire for sex and resorting to it’s prehistoric antics. No, not smart but some men just can't override the impulses their brain keeps sending their way.

Oddly, this sort of behavior received an almost idolized and accepted reverence back in the 1930’s and 40s. Just rewatch some of the old movies and musicals of the time where you’d hear lyrics like “There is nothing like a dame,” or whole scenes of sailors staring and catcalling relentlessly on the streets of NYC. Just like today, in those the more civil guys (usually businessmen in suits and hats) would scowl at the behavior, but held the same thoughts as they rushed off to work.

 So yes, this overt male reaction to females is rude, garish, disgusting and less than civil, but it’s just more of a case of testosterone and sex drive taking over the male. In many ways, it’s similar to an earlier blog about men who get rowdy and women looking down on the behavior. Once again, its women who get to decide what is civil behavior even though it’s ingrained in the male psyche.

So the likelihood of this behavior disappearing any time soon is pretty remote. The best response for a female to this behavior is to tell the guy that certain orangutans are more sexy than the offending dude, and walk on. In the future, maybe centuries from now after women have become braver and more willing to take the first move we’ll see roles reverse. Or is that just science fiction/wishful thinking?

Future times?

(some images courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)

Relationship C.V.

People ask me all the time, why do I write a blog largely dealing with relationships. Or more to the point, they say: “what makes you an expert on relationships?”

Of course, I often just reply that they could ask the same of any advice columnist (this is NOT an advice column, btw) or female writer who does the same. However, I prefer to mention that my resume is pretty extensive.

Yes, I’ve had a ton of relationships.

Some were great, some not so great, some were lousy, some were really, really lousy. So for all of those out there saying the same thing as they read yet another communiqué from the front of The War Between Men and Women, let me tell you about some of those lousy ones.

Oh, I could tell you about the good ones, but no one wants to read about those. I remember as a child taking a vacation with the parents and stopping at some roadside attraction to watch a man wrestle a crocodile. What he said before he began has stuck with me over the years. In his Aussie accent he said:

“I know you’re coming here to see this croc bite me leg off. I mean, even I go to the circus not to watch the high wire act succeed, but to watch them tumble. Let me assure you though mates, that today, this croc ain’t going to bite me at all.”

In other words, we don’t want to see cars traveling along a highway. We want to see a horrific car crash with 50+ vehicles stacked upon each other.

One relationship I really remember happened when my girlfriend and I were moving beyond second base. Or at least, I was trying to move beyond. As we lay on the bed, both of us with our tops off and running our hands over each others exposed skin, I made a slight detour south. As my fingers gently strolled below the waistband of her panties, she grabbed my hand and stared into my eyes intently:

“No, I’m a virgin and a Christian.”

I knew she wasn’t the former, and didn’t think the latter really mattered as if you read the Bible carefully, you’ll note there’s a lot of sex in there. But she could not be persuaded otherwise and saying “Me too” didn’t seem to change things at all.  Yes, that relationship went downhill from there.

On another occasion, with a different girlfriend, we walked up to the door of her place and stopped. It had been a fairly pleasant evening. We had gone to Esther’s Follies, a hilarious improv establishment here in Austin. While there, we did run into a mutual male friend, and it did bother me a little that she seemed willing to have a long conversation with him. He even seemed puzzled by this, but I didn’t say anything as it was early in the relationship and I didn’t want to ruin my chances. So after this fun night together, standing at her door, I slowly leaned forward to kiss her goodnight.

She suddenly vaulted back against the door, eyes wildly staring at me and her hand extended into my chest. It had been as if she thought I was the Boston Strangler about to slaughter another victim.

“What are you doing!” She demanded.

“Uh, um” I cleverly replied.

Okay, I was pretty young then and not such a smooth talker (still not the latter).

I finally got some composure and mentioned that I was just trying to kiss her goodnight.

“What do you think this is?” she asked, still in shock, still ready to spring forward and attack this wanton villain who had cornered her.

“Um, uh, a date?” Yeah, smooth.

She apparently didn’t think that was the case and promptly retreated into her abode. I believe that was our last “date.”

Speaking of speaking, I remember the time out with another Ex and she inquired why I didn’t talk much.

“I’m a writer, not a talker,” I replied.

This was years after the previous encounter and I had become better at responding to women, but apparently not that much better. Truthfully, I can’t say that she was that talkative either, but this is a typical complaint we guys get from women all the time. For the most part, until the relationship is truly on solid ground, it is up to the male to keep things going. Even conversation. So it usually entails us asking questions of the female, and the female responding. After the relationship is to their liking, they tend to take over the conversation and we’re not required to respond as much. This relationship hadn’t gotten to that point. She did hang around another month or so, but as you guessed, this didn’t go much further.

The final encounter I want to mention deals with something that happens to all men. No, it doesn’t concern use of the little blue pill. It is about how men are more prone to action, while women seem to be more excited about words. That’s right, I’m talking about show versus tell.  Men believe that you can show your emotions and feelings by the way we act. Women think that you need to express those emotions or feelings.

In this one relationship, we had this discussion many times. I always liked to point out that Ronald Reagan (yes, I love making political points) would often say one thing, but actually do something else. You know, something like, oh, he hated terrorists, but then would arm right-wing Nicaraguan militias.  Or that trickle-down economics would help the poor. Well, you get my drift.

Anyway, one night after a pretty nice love-making session, my girlfriend turned to me and made the “I love you” announcement. I smiled and hugged her tightly and kissed her passionately. Yes, she had said the words and I showed the proof.

As you can guess, that wasn’t enough. That relationship lasted a few more months but soon we went our separate ways.

I’ve had relationships that lasted years, months, and some that lasted mere days.  Yes, I've seen it all. I won't say I'm not discriminating, but I have been with all size, shape, temperament, attitude and belief of female. So when someone asks me why I think I can write about men and women, besides the line I used at the beginning, I can always point out that I’m a seasoned pro.  I’ve been in the trenches in this game for a long time.

No, I may not be the best person to talk about relationships, but then also, who would have thought a two-bit B-movie actor would win two terms in office as President?   So guess I’ll just keep writing about the differences and similarities of the two species, er, genders dominating this planet.

The Never Ending Relationship Quest

(images courtesy of http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/)

The Ferguson Incident: The Thurber Brigade goes wildly off topic

The last blog at The Thurber Brigade was a sidestep about writing. However, what transpired in Ferguson, MO on August 9th really agitated me due to the police behavior. So this blog goes completely off topic and dips into an even more volatile world then relationships.

 As a writer it’s my passion to tell stories (https://sites.google.com/site/jaywinaustin/home) and when watching a TV show or movie mystery, I try to guess the outcome or perpetrator.  So here's a dramatization of what I have theorized happened in Ferguson.

The Players:

Policeman—Darren Wilson

Victim—Michael Brown

On a warm Missouri night Michael Brown and a friend are walking down a street instead of using the sidewalk. This might be a new youthful trend as while vacationing in Jackson,Wyoming last year, I noticed a lot of young people doing this. At that time I decided it was a fad, but didn't see any police stop them either.

Police officer Darren Wilson didn't see this action as a harmless fad though. He passed by the two kids and pulled his cruiser over and jumped out to confront the wayward pedestrians.

"Hey, you boys* need to get off the street right now," Wilson yelled.

"Screw* you! We ain't doin' nothin' wrong," Brown answered.

Officer Brown didn't like being talked back to, especially by a punk kid. His macho police instincts slowly began to kick into gear. He stepped up to the large teenager and grabbed the kid's arm.

"Ya'll* come over here!" He said and began pulling Brown back toward his patrol car.

"Leave me alone you turd*!" Brown shouted at the officer.

This inflamed the policeman even more, as he wasn't about to let this young "thug" sass him. He assured himself he wasn't being a racist, but his constant exposure to his fellow biased officers played into his thinking and he had come to believe that any black person who didn't do as told had to be a "thug."

This angry white policeman yelling at him and yanking him toward his car frightened Brown. After all, he had plenty of friends who had been taken into custody and came back home bruised and battered. So he pushed at Wilson's chest, causing the policeman to lose his grip and fall back onto the seat of his car. While falling back, his head hit the top of the doorframe and his arms the side of the door. This added pain enraged him even more.

Brown, seeing he now had a gap between himself and the officer, began to back away. Furious at being pushed, Wilson sprang back out of the car and simultaneously pulled his pistol from its holster.

"Stop right there you damn black person*!" Wilson screamed.

Brown saw the gun and panicked. He began to run away. Wilson fired a shot that nicked Brown. This so shocked the young man he fell to the ground. He suddenly realized he couldn't get away, so turned while on his knees to face the officer. He suddenly threw his hands up in surrender.

"Don't shoot mister*, I surrender!" He cried.

Wilson, seeing the sudden turning movement panicked. It was a thug after all and he could have just pulled a gun.  Wilson’s only thought was to protect himself.  He promptly fired the remaining rounds in his gun at the kneeling young man.

And so concludes our little tale. A young man walking harmlessly down a city street at night gunned down for the simple offense of putting up resistance and frightening a man who had a rigid stereotype of this type of person. Frightening the officer enough that any sudden movement could cause the officer to panic and respond the only way the police in the United States are trained to handle people who resist—with violence.

* Colorful metaphors have been replaced with less offensive words

The Thurber Brigade apologizes for once more veering off the road of the War Between Men and Women and assures everyone that it will return to the straight and narrow soon. Um, maybe. 

Ahhh, James Thurber

Write This Way: Another Thurber Brigade Sidestep

Jay's "neat" writing space

Since returning from vacation a short while ago, I have neglected The Thurber Brigade.  Therefore, not having a stinging blog about relationships and The War Between Men and Women I thought I’d take another writing sidestep and provide some insight into my writing.

First off, some people have suggested that I might be insane:

✍ My short stories are usually satire and humor

✍ My books are typically action/adventure or mystery

✍  My newspaper/magazine articles are usually serious subjects

 

✍ My blog focuses on male/female (mis)behavior

✍  My comments on Facebook mainly rant about politics

I think instead of insanity though, it’s just that I like to try different things. Speaking of different, here’s a few little tidbits about my writing.

Don’t try this at home

When I began doing research for my eBook TAX BREAK, one of my activities included a recon (military jargon for reconnaissance) of the Austin IRS building. Believe it or not, I actually drove around the whole place. No, not on the street nearby, right next to it. At that time, the parking lot was right next to the building and included the back. So I just drove through the parking lot near the building. If I remember correctly, I think there was a door at the back with some people hanging out and smoking. I always believed that I could easily have just parked and walked inside. I didn’t though, I just drove around.

Keep in mind this was back around 1991.  As a nation we were a little naïve back then and so what I did probably wasn’t that much out of the ordinary. Today just about all federal buildings are fortresses. Last time I drove by (not around) the IRS building they had erected a large, sturdy fence. I’m sure there are quite a few other security measures too. So don’t even think of trying anything like I did way back then.

As a side note, after the OK City bombing in 1995 whenever I submitted my book to a publisher, I’d include a little note stating that I didn’t model my book after those killers nor want to do anything to the government.

Voss up?

My other eBook, WINGS OF HONOR, has a serial killer who shoots down unarmed, small airplanes.  In one of my other sidesteps I talked about how the killer was based loosely on the killers in the slasher movies that were popular around that time.

I don’t give away many clues to the killer, but one interesting aspect of his personality is his affinity for all things German WWI.  After all, he flies a Fokker triplane, likes to sing in German (sort of. Yes, that’s a hint), but on a lighter note, he has a dog named Voss.  That’s Werner Voss.

Werner Voss was considered the second greatest German fighter pilot of the war. Maybe in homage to that pilot, the killer named his dog after him.  In the first reference to him I say he’s a “small, wiry collie.”  When I dreamed him up though, I really thought of a Sheltie, or Shetland Sheepdog, which in the old days they called a Shetland Collie. Although I pictured the killer having a smaller dog like a Sheltie, to me it didn’t seem right verbally to include that. “Collie” sounds more regal or tougher, so I would always try to mention that Voss was a small collie.  What? You didn’t think that writers worry about every little aspect of their books. Well, we do. Right down to the dogs they own.

What is honor?

Another insight about WINGS OF HONOR is that although no one really knows much about the killer, I actually visualized him as a nice guy. Hey, he had a Sheltie after all. Uh, I mean Collie. He also owns a small private farm, so probably has money (which doesn’t mean he’s nice, but helps paint a picture of him). He just has a very distorted idea about who should be allowed to take to the skies. So a nice guy with a killer instinct? Yeah, he might be a touch schizophrenic

Paul on the other hand is a jerk. At the beginning of the book I even tried to make it seem like he might be the killer, but later we understand it's not him. I made him a jerk to contrast him with the super nice guy Dallas.  So in a way Paul is a bit of an “anti-hero.”  With this contrast between Paul and Dallas I attempted to make a statement about honor. We Americans too easily think of a big tough guy who beats up and kills bad guys as a good guy. But is that really honorable?

SEX!

This has nothing to do with this blog nor my short stories.
I'm just trying to keep you interested.

Ha ha, I had to throw that in there to see if you were still reading. It’s also a good way for me to bring up my short stories. Several of them even mention sex quite often. However, none of them are really about sex. For example, “Raw Sex in theWild” is really about the environment and National Parks. I had read an article about how some republican (purposely not capitalized) wanted to have a state park named after a corporation. This really made me mad, but also made me think about what would happen if loonies like this actually had enough power to do something like that and ruined our parks? 

Likewise, "Cars, Sex and American Fulfillment" has nothing to do with sex but instead makes fun of America's infatuation with cars, especially humongous gas guzzlers. The cover of the magazine it appeared in was just as hilarious as my story:

I’m still attempting to get someone to publish my collection of short stories, but until that happens you can read a few of my selections at Jay’s Place.

 A Policing Action

When I wrote "Dead Men Tell No Tales" I originally planned on it being a book. I would have a section on police killing civilians, one on random violent acts by them (you know, like bludgeoning Rodney King) and a section on corruption and other evil acts. After little success finding a publisher and getting a little depressed about the subject (there were thousands of cases), I just turned it into the current article and got someone to publish it.

Some people believe I hate cops, but that isn't really the case. What bothers me is that police are always given the benefit of the doubt. If a case boils down to a cop's word versus a defendant, the cop always wins. This is because most people, well white people, believe it' the exception when the cop does something wrong. I wanted too point out this isn't the case at all. In fact, I think there's an overwhelming amount of police malfeasance and it is either ignored, unreported or justified because the person doing it is a cop. The latter is where the person thinking about this situation will tell himself that "well, it was a cop, he was just doing his job and had to do it for some reason."

With all the new reports, I'm tempted to try a book again, but I would have to figure out a way to avoid the depression from reading all the cases.

 What's up with that blog?

 I had to include one picture of this blog's namesake

 Lastly, let me give you a little insight about this blog. When I started it, I thought it would be merely about the ins and outs of relationships. If you read the first couple of blogs you'll see this. However, as I did research for the blog I kept running into women's blogs where they pretty much put men on the same level as sea slugs. So I slowly began to make this a sort of counter-point. For example, in the recent controversial blog about women drivers (I had women "unfriend" me and the HR guy at work threaten my job) it came about because I kept running into female blogs about mens' driving (he's a monster, etc.). Or the blog on how men are always told to grow up because women get to decide what is adult behavior was spawned by countless women's blogs about how apish men act.

I also want to point out something else about the blog. I remember years ago a fun TV show called "My World and Welcome To It." It was loosely based on James Thurber and starred William Windom. In one episode he was getting raked over the coals because he was always writing about some odd behaviors of women he didn't like when his daughter came up to him and said "Dad, you don't hate women, you hate everyone." Or something like that. He was a little nonplussed about this, but he did have a habit of yelling at the neighbor kids, arguing with his boss, etc.

So I just want to say that I don't hate women. In fact, I believe women might be better than men. They can withstand more pain, they seldom start any wars, won't break your nose if you look at them wrong and are less emotional then us guys. That doesn't mean I'm not going to talk smack about them. I could write just as much about men, but hey, we need to have some balance around here, plus I am a guy after all and so have to stand up for the team.

Therefore you'll probably continue to see goofy blogs here about the differences between men and women. However, instead of calling my boss, why don't you just write an angry comment below. That's right, there is a section for comments and so far in two years there have been only three. So come on, grow a pair (darn, I should have used that in my last blog) and type your anger to the world. If there' something I like better then writing contrarian, controversial blogs, it's getting into lively, spirited exchanges. Give it a shot.

Oh and one final thing about my writing: buy my books! They're great.