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?)

The Hiker

Colorado has some beautiful scenery, but what most people don't realize is that half the state looks more like Kansas than those stunning pictures we see in travel magazines. I know this well because of my family's vacations when I was a child.

My Dad always loved to travel. I think this wanderlust came from growing up on a small Kansas farm during the depression. About the only adventures his family might undertake would be a shopping trip to a nearby small town.

So as an adult, not only did he become a Navy pilot during WWII, he did a stint as a pilot after the war, then even after getting a family (and degree in engineering) would move from state to state after a number of years. Oh, not every few years but often enough that it was hard to establish strong roots.

Unfortunately, his type of travel for vacations meant putting the family in a car and driving somewhere. Oh, you would see things, but it was from the car. And the majority of the time our vacations were to drive to Colorado. This meant driving the expanse of Kansas (we lived in Topeka) to reach the mountains.

As you are drive through western Kansas you eventually enter Colorado. You have no idea you are in that state except that there is a big green sign you pass saying "Welcome to Colorado" (nowadays they seem to be made of wood). In other words, Colorado looks just like Kansas.

Of course, after about 30 minutes you would begin to see the tops of the distant mountains. After so many miles of flat plains it was really exhilarating to see those peaks, so the rest of the drive, which was pretty long and still in flat country, didn't seem that bad.

 
Once in the mountains the real adventure began. Oh, not because we did anything special, but because my Dad would always drive on these perilous winding roads—with thousand foot drops off the edge, a small two-foot rock wall the only barrier—and simultaneously stare over the edge of those cliffs.

 
In other words, we were never sure when we would be plunging over those cliffs to our spectacular deaths as he missed that next bend.  He never did though. Even though it freaked his passengers out his roaming eyes never resulted in an accident.

Oh, sure, there were turnoffs he could have taken to stop and look, but he wanted to keep driving. So the vacation mainly consisted of driving and looking out the window at those majestic mountains as they whizzed by.

However, there was always a little voice coming from the back seat begging to be allowed to get out and explore those mountains. You see, I am completely different than my Dad. I am a hiker. My idea of seeing something is getting out of said car and walking around.

I still vividly remember a time we were driving by some snow (it might have been a glacier) and convincing my brother into whining along with me to be allowed to go "see" that blazing white stuff. Dad relented and we two little boys ran up to the snow to frolic and throw snowballs. It was summer after all, so a snowball fight in July was pretty exciting.

To this day I still love to travel, but after 50 miles I am ready to get out of the car and start hiking. This can make getting somewhere a real challenge because every time I see a turnoff near some great scenery I feel this need to pull over and go see whatever is there. One trip along the Oregon/Washington coast took an inordinate amount of time because just about every 10 miles you would see something breath-taking that required exploration.

So when I plan a vacation these days, the question I always ask myself is "what kind of hiking can I get in?"

Last year, I hiked around Mt. Rainier

The previous year were The Grand Tetons

The year before: Olympic National Park

Even this year, when I decided to just take a short trip and stay in Portland, Oregon (just to escape the Texas summer heat) it was with the idea that I would take at least one day to hike around The Columbia River Gorge plus go often to Washington Park.

All this being said, my vacations have been solo adventures because usually my girlfriends knew of my habit of walking a lot. They knew that even a short trip to a nearby store could result in a stop by a hike-and-bike trail we "accidentally" passed on the way.

I am sure there are females who also have this wandering habit. After all, I have passed a number on the trails. But for now it seems I’ll be hiking along the various paths I come across by my lonesome.

I don’t mind.

(Of course I had to have a James Thurber cartoon about the wild too!)

Sex vs. Shoes

Not too long ago the Philippines had a notoriously tough guy dictator. So naturally, he had a tough wife too. This wife loved the extravagances that came with being the wife of a ruthless strongman. When Marcus was finally deposed and the poor people of the Philippines invaded the former palaces of the dictator, they discovered that Imelda Marcus had over 3,000 pairs of shoes! In interviews following the couples fall from grace one of the most important things Imelda said she missed were those shoes.

I bring up this example of extreme shoe affection because basically love of shoes is one stereotype of women that has a strong basis in fact. Watch women's shows and often the dialogue focuses on shoes.

 Eavesdrop on a group of females and sooner rather than later they will discuss shoes. Go somewhere with your girlfriend to watch people and invariably she will mention the good or bad of some female's shoes (usually bad). Women are just crazy about shoes.

On the other hand, men have an equal fixation on sex. Some people believe that men think about sex every 10 seconds or less. We talk about it to our male friends in conversations on who we'd like to do. When we trash talk each other, we don't deride another male about what he's wearing, instead we insist we had raunchy sex with the other person's wife/sister/girlfriend (whichever might dig the deepest).

If you go on the Internet you will find millions of sex sites aimed at men. For women you will find around two. Um, sorry no links, you'll have to find those yourself.

Likewise, if you go shopping on the Internet you'll find thousands of shoe sites that target women, but you will be lucky if you can find any that try to draw in men. More than likely, if a guy were to want to look at shoes rather than porn (usually when the girlfriend is in the same room), he'd discover that the site was just a few entries as a sideline to a woman's site.

Now you are probably mumbling under your breath--or screaming at me through the computer screen--that Masters & Johnson found that women like sex just as much as men. But those two sex researchers misunderstood the data.

To this day when I think about that study I imagine a little old lady sitting in her rocking chair knitting as she answered the questions.

"Oh, sex? Why, yes that is fun. I like it immensely."

Which is true. I am absolutely sure they thought that. But what these researchers didn't understand is that they could get the same response about chocolate--or shoes!

The women didn't have the same imperative that men do when it comes to sex. Men start wars because of sex (Helen of Troy) that's how imperative it is for them. Women will marry scummy dictators in order to buy more shoes. I imagine if there were a survey that asked would they rather have sex or get a new pair of shoes, women would go with the shoes. Men wouldn't have made it past the part about sex and wouldn't have known there was another option.

 I should make an admission here though. You might be shocked to know that I actually own about 15 pairs of shoes. Of course, that's because I typically don't throw things away that I think I might use again. That's why one of those pairs is my old jump boots from my 82nd Airborne Days. It also includes two pairs of old jogging shoes I call my "rainy day" shoes because I wear them when I go jogging in the rain. And six of the pairs of shoes have either the heels missing or big holes in them. I keep them because I think I might actually fix them—even though that hasn't happened yet in ten years. So basically I am like most men who have maybe three pairs of shoes they'll wear.

When I did a casual poll of women, not counting the shoes they kept too long (I think women are just as prone to hoarding as us guys), it averaged 25 pairs that were still in rotation.

Like all men, I also don't throw away porn. Yes, I still have sex magazines from the 70s. That's why when police raid a guy's home, you will always read about the massive amount of porn they discovered.  I didn't do a poll of women and ask them about their stash of porn because, well, I didn't want to get slapped, but also since there are only about two magazines that you might call porn for women, I figured they wouldn't have a stash.

So the bottom line is, as insane as men are about sex, women are as equally insane about shoes.

Slugging it out—The Florida (in)justice system

By now the event has pretty much blown over, well, for the media anyway. With Donald Trump hogging the airwaves, not much else is covered in the media for more than a few seconds. The event I’m referring to is a Florida State football player hitting a woman at a bar. No, this is not another side-step by The Thurber Brigade, because this really does involve The War Between Men and Women.

I don’t mean physically of course (the war), although this event is physical. What this blog looks at is the inequality of the Florida justice system that seems to say it’s okay for a woman to hit a man, but not the reverse.  In this case, De’Andre Johnson is accused of hitting a woman while in a bar in Tallahassee in June.

Let me state that I’m not saying he did not hit the woman. I think that’s clear on the video (although for legal reasons I guess I should say “Allegedly”). What gets me is that she also clearly hit him and yet she has NOT been charged with misdemeanor battery as he has.  

 Is it because he hit harder than she did so she doesn’t get charged? Is it because she’s female and well, we guys are told never to hit a woman? Or is it because this happened in the South and it’s a BLACK man hitting a WHITE woman?  I have a feeling it’s the latter, but won’t discuss that here.

First off, let me point out that any time you go to a crowded bar, rowdy rock concert or the Austin City Limits Music Fest you should realize that you are going to get bumped here and there and quite regularly. If you don’t like getting bumped into, don’t go to those type of places!

Of course, good bars should have a dedicated spot to order your drinks. You know, like the Black Star Co-op Pub and Brewery here in Austin who brew some great beers, serve very delicious food and yes, have a spot where you order your drinks and don’t have to worry about muscling up to the bar. No, I’m not getting paid to say that, I just like the place and wanted to mention it here as it seemed relevant. Sort of.

  Anyway, here’s what happened at that busy Tallahassee bar on that June night.  Johnson wanted to order a drink and asked a woman who already had her drink if he could take her spot and move up to the bar to get his.

 

She agrees and lets him in and so he moves to the bar but accidentally bumps into the alleged victim. Note how he has his hand on the bar attempting to get that spot before someone else does. That's a typical ploy to get up to a crowded bar because it's so difficult. It’s tough getting one of those spots, as someone who has had to fight his way to bars for years, I can tell you it’s not easy.

The victim gets angry at being bumped by Johnson. Is it because she’s not used to being bumped in a crowded bar, or is it because he’s a big black man? Well, since we men do not have ESP I can’t say for sure (but yes, that’s my opinion). Of course, she might have been drunk already and just in an angry mood. Who knows?

The alleged victim (okay, I keep saying alleged not for legal purposes, although my lawyers wish I would, but because I’m being snide because she seems to get away with this while he does not) seems to be cursing Johnson out (some witnesses say she used racial epitaphs) and raises her fist to make a point that she can take him out with one blow. Okay, that’s not why she raised her fist, but I thought it sounded funny. Plus, we small guys (compared to football players) know better than to threaten bigger guys because if we exchange blows, we know it won’t be very equal. For some reason, I don’t think this woman learned that while growing up.

Johnson attempts to stop her from hitting him by grabbing her arms. Although he’s probably incensed by the racial slurs and threats, he has been taught not to fly off the handle at a slight provocation like this. She becomes even more enraged and so knees him in the groin!

Johnson doesn’t leave even though he’s been cussed out and kneed, so she decides to up the ante. She slugs him! 

I think that this was the straw that broke the camel’s back as he slugs her back. I’m not showing that picture because you have seen it maybe 1,000 times since the news media likes to focus on that aspect and not what leads up to it.  

So that’s the event. Two people in a bar slug it out. However, only one person gets charged with a crime! Yes, it’s the man. 

I believe strongly in equal rights. I believe women should get paid the same as men for doing the same job if everything else is the same (that’s another story), I am really happy women got the vote and wish they would do so more often and stop electing idiots like George Bush, et al. As noted before I like watching women’s sports as much as men’s.

However, you can’t pick and choose what will be equal and what will not. 

Personally, I don’t think this is the type of event that should involve charges. If the woman wants to take him to civil court, let her, but don’t make it a crime to have a fight. If you do make it a crime, then make it equal.

Florida either needs to drop the charges against Johnson, or charge her too.

As we guys always like to say when we explain to our parents about a fight we got into, “Well, she started it!”

(Sorry, I just had to include one JAMES THURBER cartoon and since it's set in a court, welllll)