Baby You Can Drive My Car, Part II

Probably about 99% of the people here in the US are good, decent people no matter their politics, religious views, etc.  However, put them behind the wheel of a car and that percentage drops rapidly.  Maybe only about 45%.  Oh sure, I admit I can get a little crazy behind the wheel too.  Not so much the raging nut who points a gun at a guy who passes him, but likely the guy who will slow down if the guy behind me turns on his high beams.  Oh, and I shout a lot at people who can't hear me. You know, the bad drivers.  Such as the guy who turns on his signal as he makes a turn instead of before.

Anyway, when I wrote my blog about women drivers back in 2014 it created a firestorm of anger from feminists (like people with road rage but without the guns—or cars).  Even though I pointed out how women always complain about men drivers, and even though I was real general and didn't say all women or many women, in fact it probably only related to about four.  These angry women went nuts.

 They harassed me on Twitter and Facebook, complained to HR at the place I used to work at and unfriended or blocked me on social media.

The truth about that blog though is that every mannerism I complained about could just as easily apply to men.  For example, I may see more "creepers" (you'll have to see the previous blog) who are male than female.  That is, all the mannerisms except one:

I honestly believe that females have no clue about how to react at a four-way stop.

When you come to a 4-way stop and you see that your opponent is a female, nine times out of ten you should drive on no matter that you got there after she did.  If you get there simultaneously, regardless that she is to the right, go ahead and drive on.  She will not go.

I have been walking past a 4-way stop and observed on numerous occasions three women pull up to the stop.  Invariably, it will be at least ten seconds before anyone dares to go.  That's an eternity to a male in that situation.

I have also been the last to get to an intersection with two other males and a female—who got there first—and all of the males drove on before she did.

In the previous blog I swore this failure to navigate a traffic situation boiled down to them not being able to make decisive decisions quickly.  That's still a possibility, but it could also be because of a few other stereotypical ideas we guys assign to females:

- Fear of breaking the rules

- Fear of offending someone

- Fear of making everyone angry

- Fear of doing the wrong thing

These aren't bad things.  It could mean that they are more agreeable, more loving, kinder, etc. and so they yield to others to display this quality.  

To males though, it means...well, I'll leave that to the millions of female bloggers to tell us what men think.  Just rest assured that The War Between Men and Women is acted out every day at those 4-way stops.   

Think I'll get a lawn chair and go sit at one to see it all play out—and to get more material for future blogs.

Ahhh, James Thurber

We at The Thurber Brigade wish to apologize for those offended by this blog.  We wish to, but we don't because, well, women just don't seem to understand 4-way stops.  James Thurber understood 4-way stops although with his bad eyesight we guess he didn't drive much.

Seriously (don’t take me seriously)

Years ago a coworker told me that when she first encountered me at the hiring interview, she had the impression I was a mean, tough guy and would be against hiring her. I had actually told the hiring committee that I thought she would be a great fit for the office. She had taken me too seriously largely because, well, I guess I look very serious.

I have had a Van Dyke for about 20 years (long before it became fashionable, I might brag) and with fairly broad shoulders and short hair I guess I can see why people might think this. I do smile a lot, but because of that Van Dyke I don't think people can see it. It's probably more of a Mona Lisa half-smile.

However serious I may appear though, I am rarely serious.

It all began back at high school. I remember talking to my German teacher, Mrs. Mason, about my plans to go to college to become a Phys Ed teacher. I want to point out here that Mrs. Mason was a WWII concentration camp survivor. Although I knew she had lived in Germany and was Jewish, I didn't understand the number tattooed on her arm until I got to college. Yes, I probably was a little more naive in HS. Maybe I thought she had escaped before the war, I'm not sure why I didn't make the connection. I mention this about Mrs. Mason not just because she was my favorite teacher, but as a survivor she deserves to be talked about.

(Hilde Mason)

Anyway, Mrs. Mason expressed surprise about my career path. She thought I was more of the chess club type, not the type of guy who likes to work up a sweat or bang bodies on a playing field. Okay, maybe because I was such a quiet kid, she also thought I was the serious type too.

(Jay the serious soccer coach)

Oddly, I liked that she misread me. She stereotyped me based on certain behaviors and maybe looks (no Van Dyke back then). 

As I have blogged before people often stereotype others based on a lot of different factors. As time went by, I found myself purposely trying to get folks to misread me. It became a rather perverse habit to see different people's reaction.

My beard is a good example. I have almost always had at least a mustache, partly because I liked Magnum PI, but also as a GI it was the only facial hair allowed—but was frowned upon. So of course I had to push those military boundaries. Through the years I seldom had a beard though. Around November I would grow one and then slowly shave it off after the New Year. In other words, I would first just trim it back, then maybe the next week shave it down to a Van Dyke, then a Fu Manchu, then just back to the 'Stache. On one of those occasions that my facial hair was down to the Van Dyke, this female coworker told me I looked evil. That was when it became one of my permanent accouterments.  

(The Army 'Stache)

So I have been stereotyped over the years as gay because I was single, skinny (back then) and had a mustache;  a "player" because people would often see me with a different woman every time they'd encounter me (it was really because they didn't see me that often and I never seemed to have very long relationships); a partier because I used to hit the Austin nightlife five to six nights a week; or a right-wing fascist due to my previous military experience (I still don't get this last one, because if you look at those who served it seems more common for progressives to be in the military. I've always postulated that we enlisted were more likely to be Progs and officers were more likely NeoCons. Since people see officers talk more than enlisted on the news—even though there are more enlisted—well, everyone gets the wrong impression. But that is just a theory).

Besides my appearance and demeanor generating these false images of me, I also have a habit (some will say bad habit) of trying to get a reaction from people. It's a writer's responsibility to do this, of course, but I have it ingrained in my makeup to do this naturally.  So I will often take the opposite side of an argument just to see what the other person will say or do. Devil's advocate as they say.

The thing is that there really isn't a lot that I take so serious that I'd be willing to take it to the mat. And often people won't bother to ask if I am serious, even though they may know me. They'll just take me at face value. So when I wrote my notorious blog about women drivers, no one bothered to ask me if I was serious. In truth, I believe that everyone is a much worse driver than me (I am great), it's not just women. Yeah, I should probably take the bus more often, because I am always telling all those other drivers out there how rotten they are (and often while using a funny voice; wish they could hear it).

Likewise, in my dating/hunting tips blog a lot of females took it as something a predator might find useful rather than a snide commentary about how we Americans go about looking for dates. The main reason I had written the thing was really because I had overheard a woman telling her friend how disgusted she felt about a guy who dated a younger woman (it wasn't me). My thought on this is that first off it's none of her business who other people are attracted to, and second, since it is always the male who must make first contact, it is up to the male WHO that contact will be, not some uptight non-participant (I had asked her once before if she had ever gone up to a male she didn't know and strike up a conversation. Of course, she hadn't). So that blog wasn't meant to be taken serious, it was more of me just making a snide remark.

Yes, I specialize in sarcasm.

Although a lot of what I write is satire/humor, I do often write serious stuff. In the 90s I wrote about police brutality (since it is a huge topic these days, I like to think I was on the leading edge). Plus, I have written several books that include mystery/detective (Tax Break) and action/adventure (Wings of Honor). Okay, my last book was humor/satire (and I think it was obvious that it is not serious) yet people see the title and seem to run.

Even though I do write some serious stuff, I seriously don't think you should always take me so serious. So the next time you read one of these blogs on The Thurber Brigade and it ruffles your feathers, you might first just take a deep breath and relax, but then you might write a snarky comment to me in response.

If nothing else, you should write/shout "are you f.....g SERIOUS!"

(I wonder if James Thurber was always taken seriously?)