Signs, Signs...Can't you read the signs?

South by Southwest (SxSW) has got to be one of my favorite events here in Austin. Thousands of bands at dozens of venues along with 100,000 of your closest friends. What's not to like. So at the most recent version I was hanging out at B.D. Riley's  when a typical occurrence happened in the on going War Between Men and Women (ahem, note the name of this blog).

I was standing at the back of the open area in front of the stage, the usual location for me. It gives me a good view of the band and is usually not that crowded so I don't have to worry about a random elbow. 

The next thing I know a cute female strolls up and stands next to me. Mind you, there are better viewing spots available. So this seemed a little odd. Was she like me and just wanted to avoid the mad pushing near the stage? Or was she sending me a sign? I looked at her and she casually ran her hand through her hair.

Ah, surely this was a sign that she was interested. Of course, right as I was about to cast out a line, her boyfriend walked up with a drink. Typical.

You see, women are notorious for sending out false signs, and just as notorious for wondering why we guys never can get their signals.

A few years ago there was a report about how men are worse at recognizing signs then women. I think this is because we've been bombarded by so many fake ones, that we no longer can distinguish a valid one from a fake.

For example, in the scene mentioned above I told how the female ran her hand through her hair. 

According to some "experts" on visual cues, this is a sign that a female is attracted to you. But time after time we guys discover this is seldom the case. It's more likely a female purposely misleading a male, or else she's oblivious to the message she is sending.

Also, the sign of moving close to someone is way too confusing. Sure, it's a little obvious when the place is nearly empty, but it's much more bewildering when there's a crowd. I remember numerous times when a female would stand near me and even move with me when the crowd shifted. 

 But on almost every occasion, after throwing a line, she would move away hurriedly. Oh, it could have been a lousy line, but it happens too often to be anything more than women sending mixed messages.

In the past I was crazy about hitting the nightclubs to hit the floor (dance) with whatever female was in the same mood. However, I've all but given that up due to one night at the old Continental Club . Not the current hip one, the previous one when it was darker and cooler. Anyway, on that night I asked 10 different females to dance.

 Not a one would join me. Most gave the signal that they wanted to dance. You know, like tapping their toes to the tune, dancing in place just off the floor. You've seen them. 

But they were false signs. Ever since that day I laugh when I hear the Cindy Lauper song, "Girls just want to have fun."  Yeah, right. That is why all those females acted like I was asking for a deep commitment, or maybe thought I was the Boston Strangler. It probably wouldn't have bothered me so much if they hadn't been sending those false signs.

The fake sign that bothers me the most though, is the one where you think the woman is ready to do the horizontal dance. 

For example, your date suddenly starts to exude compassion. She rubs your arm, squeezes your hand gently kisses you on the cheek or runs her hand through your hair. Well, in my case it usually is rub my head. But you've seen those signs. So when you slowly begin to unbutton her blouse and she grabs your hand to stop you, you know that once again you were the victim of the female mixed message sign.

So we guys will undoubtedly keep trying to decipher the signals we're getting. After all, our brains are constantly thinking of sex (not every seven seconds, but a lot) so we have to keep trying. But understand that if we sometimes act crazy, it's largely because we've been driven there by females planting those deceptive signs in the road to relationships.

Even I can get this sign

Yes, it's another Thurber Brigade rerun. I had different topic to write, but didn't have the motivation for the moment as I'm still reeling from the disasterous change in the White House (I'll blog about it later I'm sure). This 2013 blog seemed relevant to me though because recently, yet again, I attempted to chat up a woman, but clearly misread the sign. She had flashed at me several of the signs I mention above, but when I took the step to talk to her, she acted like I had broken into her house, ate her pet goldfish, drank all her beer and trashed her living room while watching porn on the TV. Okay, she just turned a cold shoulder but it seemed like that. So I decided to resurrect this blog about women, who won't make first contact themselves, but who don't always let us guys know if they are interested. Next time I promise to write something more original. Maybe. 

 

 

The Dick Pic Blog

Sometimes we encounter creatures, events, stories or people that just don't seem to make sense.  Things like the duck-billed platypus.  Women who can't comprehend four-way stops.  The popularity of the Kardashians. How a failed businessman and blatant racist got elected president. However, one of the biggest phenomena today has to be why do men send women “dick pics?”

I've postulated, and written (Ch. 8 of SEX and the AMERICAN MALE), that if a male wanted to do something visual to impress a female, a better picture to send might be of your wallet—assuming it's a fat one.  Or, as I’ve suggested to several guys I’ve run into in bars who were hitting on females, flash them your credit card.

The logic seems baffling to me.  Does the person really think that sending a picture of their sexual organ will somehow cause the female victim to swoon?  If that is the case, the person obviously has no clue about the opposite sex.

Besides that they are clueless, there are two other possible reasons on why some men goofily send a female a dick pic.

One is that they mistakenly believe that women are like men and are stimulated easily by visual cues.  Guys get stimulated by something as slight as a peek at a woman's navel (via bare midriff). Or, they might get hot if a woman wears a dress that exposes bare shoulders. Women don't respond to visual stimuli—like the human body—as men do.  This is why we see dozens of topless joints in towns, but only one male strip joint (which goes out of business within two months).  It's why there are a zillion men's porn mags/web sites, but a handful of female ones.

Oh sure, women put on a good act sometimes, such as at bachelorette parties, but the evidence is quite conclusive.  They're more stimulated by the dreamy/romantic mental image of a man than the actual sight of one.  You know, the old knight on a white horse swooping in to pick up the damsel in distress motif.  They don't want to see his body parts, they just want the fantasy. 

The second reason for men assaulting women with images of their “members” is something I’ve blogged about several times.  Some men are good at interactions with females while hunting, you know, casting pick-up lines, some are not so good.  In other words, the guys who have more success picking up women know better, the others, well, they're still in the Neanderthal stage.  The guys you see on the street who whistle or make rude remarks to passing females probably have an iPhone full of pictures of their “Johnson,” or “thrill drill” (among other funny names).

By no means do I believe that this is normal behavior.  However, as noted above, I do think it’s explainable.  Face it, men have been doing weird things due to females for centuries.  From starting a war over Helen of Troy, to buying an expensive car to impress an ex-girlfriend, we guys have an endless array of goofy behaviors.  This one just seems a little more off-kilter since it’s so, um, personal.

Oh, and just in case you wondered, no, I’ve never sent a dick pic.  However, I do distinctly remember sending a picture of someone (not me) giving the finger.  Yeah, it may have been to an ex-girlfriend.  Oops.

WARNING: The Thurber Brigade is about to publish one of the most vile, disgusting Dick Pics ever.  For the weak of heart and those who get offended easily, we suggest you look away now:

Dick Cheney

(How this Dick isn’t in prison for treason for outing a CIA agent or for war profiteering, we do not know.)

Are You Somebody?

Around 10-15 years ago I sat at the bar of a nightclub during SxSW listening to a band and drinking a beer. Normally during the festival, like most people, I try to get close to the band on the dance floor in front of the stage.  I had forgotten my earplugs though and so thought sitting farther away (bar was at front of building, stage at back) might save my hearing. A young woman approached me and then took the bar stool next to me.

"Are you somebody?" She asked.

I smiled, frantically trying to think about a good pick up line (yes, she was quite attractive), but nothing clever came to mind.  "Well, my mother thinks so."

She smiled back, and we exchanged a few more pleasantries, but she slowly eased away. Obviously, I was not somebody enough.  At SxSW it is very common to run into actors, singers, directors, etc., and she really had hoped I might fit into one of those categories. A struggling writer, fully employed, self-sufficient and cute (hey, I had hair back then and a number of females thought me handsome) academic advisor is not "somebody."

I've blogged beforehand about how women are just as superficial as men, but instead of looks, they lean toward money and prestige.  However, her affliction, well, okay, her desire, had more to do with acquiring fame and stardom.  A driving force for both genders.  I like to claim that this appears in generations after us Boomers.  After all, we were the generation that celebrated the anti-heroes, fought against the establishment and the status quo.  I have a feeling though that there might be a number of us who succumb to this desire too. Maybe.

I wrote a short story about this a number of years ago and actually convinced someone to publish it.  Titled "Thank You" it focused on a man who watched a little too much "TMZ" and "Dish Nation" and "E! News" and saw all these glamorous stars and people living the high life.  He soon became despondent because he was just a little old high school counselor.  He decided the only way out was, well, to end it all.  Okay, it may have been more black humor than just my usual ribald satire. Anyway, the moral was that everyone's life is important in its own way and we shouldn't judge ours by movie stars, singers, et al.

Unfortunately, we see this attitude all the time.  The attitude that being a star is everything, while being a good person, whether construction worker, teacher, cop or some other useful occupation (come on, do you really believe actors, etc. really contribute to advancing society? Pleeaasseee.) is to not have succeeded in life.

For example, a number of years ago I remember a news story where a Kardashian and Posse were walking through an airport and a reporter asked her if she wanted to meet some big name politician also going through.  I think it was Joe Biden.  She had no idea who he was, nor wanted to meet him.  If she didn't recognize his name, he must not have been important enough (similar to some college students who recognize the Kardashians, but not Ronald Reagan).

You really see this when watching those reality TV shows and they start with the tryouts.  There will be thousands of people skipping work, doctor's appointments or something in order to stand in line for four or more hours in order to spend one minute on a stage to try to impress someone that they should be a star.

My satirical book "Sex and the American Male" which mainly took aim at America's mass consumerism addiction, also touched on this.  The main character, Zach—due to microbes in his brain that want him to go crazy—always wants to impress his love by either having a great car or by having enough money and prestige to buy her "STUFF."  He has to be a big deal.

To a lesser degree I think you can find this in other countries, but they are mimicking us.  The US sets the trend.  As I mention in SEX, "we are the Borg." American culture and society is overwhelming. We will assimilate you. Resistance is futile.

As a child of the Sixties I put up resistance to this compulsion as best I can, but I have to admit, I'd sure like to get more people to read my books and this blog.

Oh, no, I'm infected.

 

Conversations

Years ago, back when I still did this sort of thing, I went on a blind date arranged by a well-meaning friend.  The friend seemed to think we had a lot in common, although now, thinking back on this, I have some doubts he knew me that well.  Anyway, at a restaurant the conversation went like this:

Me: So, you work at the hospital.  That must be interesting."

Her:  Yes.

Me: Um, I bet there are a lot of exciting situations that happen every day.

Her: Yeah, quite often.

Me: well, uh, you probably meet a wide variety of people.

Her: (nodding head, first real sign of life) Yep.

You get the idea.  Although she eventually did have one or two sentences longer then two words, there weren't many.  She'd talk to me, but it was like I was grilling a reluctant suspect in a murder case.  She obviously was interested in going out on this date, but would not dare take the step of trying to engage in meaningful conversation.

Admittedly, this is an extreme case, but for the most part it seems that women have certain rules about how much they are willing to talk at a given time. Women may be stereotyped as the talkative one of the sexes, but it is definitely situational.  The woman you know from the office as the chatterer extreme, may be tight-lipped if you go out on a social outing. 

Again, I think this hearkens back to my "First Contact" theory.  They won't make first contact and won't make much conversation until they feel completely safe in the relationship.  So on a first date when you ask the female something about her past she'll probably just give you a quick synopsis when in fact she's dying to give you the "War and Peace" version.  As the woman begins to feel more comfortable in your presence, she'll move from a tweet answer to a short story to eventually the major novel response.

To men, this can be disconcerting.  At the beginning of the relationship they may believe she is attractive due to those short, descriptive responses, but later in the game might be a little put off when they learn every minute detail about a short trip to the store.  In fact, they may have bragged about their new girlfriend to their buddies.  They boasted that their new squeeze didn't ask one single question during the movie they went to last week.  However, when they double date later at some exciting hockey game, she asks a question about every little detail of the sport.

This eventually causes the friend to miss the game-winning goal when she wondered why the guy with the pillows on his legs, standing in front of the little cage, had such a fat bat.

Men are completely different.  Many of us, at least those past 30, have probably been influenced by the likes of the Man With No Name (Clint Eastwood) from those famous spaghetti westerns who spoke in short, but precise sentences. Normally we don’t want to say too much, but early in the relationship dance must expound relentlessly to not only try to attract the female, but also keep the conversation going.  If we didn’t do this, not only would the female try to sneak out at some juncture, but also the other people in the restaurant might suspect the quiet couple as possible terrorists.  Or at least would tsk-tsk (publicly shame) the ultra-silent pair. 

Later in the relationship, the man can comfortably slip back into the short response mode because the female will feel safer and will now be talking at length about the proper way to eat broccoli.  Of course, she will invariably report to her girlfriends how this typical male is uncommunicative and never willing to discuss his emotions.

In other words, it’s a no-win situation for the male.  Talk too little at the beginning and the female will not be interested and will seek out male companionship elsewhere.  Talk too little later in the relationship and the male is an uncaring, unemotional Neanderthal.  It’s also not safe for the male to talk too much later because then he will be characterized as a gutless wimp because, you probably guessed this, he talks too much about his emotions.  The women want a strong man who knows what he wants and doesn’t have to explain himself. 

Therefore, the best strategy for males is to go ahead and throw those lines early on and try to engage the female in mindless banter to attract her.  Then when everything is going rosy, resort to the expression used by all males for generations:

“Yes dear, whatever you say.”

Ahhhh, Thurber!

We at The Thurber Brigade know you are wondering why there isn't a sidestep this time.  We had seriously thought about doing one about the election, but since we had done one previously about the love affair between the MSM and Trump, we decided we needed something of levity. Besides, we at The Brigade believe that anyone who would think of voting for Trump has the brain capacity of a snail and therefore isn't reading humorous blogs, especially ones about relationships between men and women and so they wouldn't be of a mind to change theirs anyway. Of course, if the worst happens, expect us to revert back to our sidestep ways just so we can make snide remarks about people who voted for Trump and with the election of His Sleaziness any chance of the US joining the rest of the western world in moving forward as a civilization.  So we'll see.

Throw Me A Line

In the distant past, well, really only about four years, I wrote a blog about how men "throw lines" to begin the process of interacting with females. It gave some sage advice, ahem, and also mentioned how women don't throw lines (just like they don't make first contact. It's related).  Anyway, I suddenly realized very recently that I no longer throw lines.

Well, normally. If my testosterone levels go off the scale, say in the case of a supermodel-esque female's presence, I might. For the most part though, I instead just try to engage the female in conversation. It could be something like, "did you see the news report about the water in Barton Springs?" (A big issue here in Austin), or "I always drink a cup of water when I have a beer. It's part of my "save Jay's liver campaign.""

Oh, sure, you could say that is still throwing a line, but it's nowhere in the realm of "what's a super model doing here at the local bar?" Or "you must be a thief because you've stolen my heart" (Heard those, didn't use them).  No, it's just me trying to get someone to talk to me. No different really than if a guy sat next to me at the bar and I wanted to do more than just drink my beer or work on a blog. i.e. Talk.

It could be age. Maybe I'm so old (hey, no snide thoughts there buster) that I no longer believe I have the silver tongue of my youth or that I no longer possess the youthful imperative that young males have to hook up. However, I think it's that I have just become more accepting of the situation. In other words, I have the thought that if the target wants to engage good, if not, no big deal.

In the old days, I'm positive I was the master of throwing lines. For example, I remember telling a women drinking wine at a brewpub: "You know it's against the law to drink wine at a beer brewing establishment?  So I'm going to have to ask you for some ID." Or one I'm still not proud of, but it seemed to work: I made a bet with my buddy this morning that I would meet the most beautiful woman in the world and it looks like he owes me ten bucks."

Now, before you judge me too harshly, remember this was the 70s-80s and Austin.  Women were much different in attitude back then and if not more accepting of goofy lines, more understanding of how difficult it is for guys making contact. Even today I trust women understand the challenges of a guy making contact when he's alone and there are two females or when two guys are winging it and encounter a single (nervous) woman.

I also feel obligated to mention that the venues of those years were completely different then today. In Austin we had fantastic and cool places to hang such as The Split Rail, The Back Room, Steamboat and everyone's favorite The Armadillo.  Ahhhh. Throwing lines at those places was so common and expected and, well fun, that everyone just went with it.

Oops, I digress.  Be careful when an Austinite begins a sentence with "in the old days in Austin...".

Anyway, I don't do that anymore. Yes I'm older and admittedly I'm not as successful as in my youth, but part of the problem is that many older women still think they are teenagers. One of my rules is that if a female I'm interested in is past the age of 35 she may no longer play games.

Oh, you know what I'm talking about. Things like acting coy/aloof when in fact she is interested; not willing to say more than yes and no to the guy's questions when she really wants to tell him her life history; unwilling to call him after they exchange numbers even though she's already put him on speed dial. You get it.

Too many older women gripe about us dudes going out with younger females (the reason behind my hunting tips blog) but still want to act like the situation has not changed. Well, it has.  If we have to risk the perils and depression of rejection, why not take a chance on a younger model?  If we must always take the chance that we will become the butt of numerous females complaints about men being animals for our brash desire to be with a female, why not go for someone not jaded by years of relationships they disliked but were unwilling to take a bold step and try to start a new one on their own?

I'm sure there are other older guys out there who still feel the imperative that tells them they must go home with a female. However, I have encountered quite a few like me who accept that if we succeed it's great, yet don't despair if we go home alone. After all, although it's sure nice to wake up with a warm body beside you, it's also nice to be able to watch football all day without someone reminding us to mow the lawn, or to be able to drink beer late into the night and watch "Die Hard" or other action movies instead of having wine and cheese parties.

(oh, you knew I was going to drop a Bruce Willis picture in here somewhere, right?)

So females need to drop the games and do their part to reach out to someone or quit complaining when they see us old geezers with a younger, partying-crazy version of themselves.

 Ahhh, James Thurber!

Whew, aren't you glad this wasn't another sidestep about police brutality or some other topical issue? Although there are plenty of lousy things going on right now, we at The Thurber Brigade believed we needed to get back on track. However, with the weirdness that is the Donald Trump candidacy and the ever present police anger management-less force on the streets, there's no guarantee that a sidestep won't reappear.