Can't we all just get along?

BB's hyperbolic take: It appears the answer to all this hormone-driven male sex drive business is for the government to develop some sort of vaccine to involuntarily inoculate all heterosexual males entering puberty. This is the only way to ultimately protect females and limit males from possibly becoming predatory and actually desiring a female and the almost certainty that they will physically act upon it.

Better safe than sorry, is what I say. We simply must stop males from acting on their hormonal urges. There is no other way to ensure females from unwanted sexual inclinations real or imagined. That 16 year old female on her first date will be guaranteed her virtue will remain intact - if she has a first date and can find a willing heterosexually inoculated male willing to go with her.

In the event that a female (over the age of 18) actually desires the physical attention of a male, the willing male may choose at that time to have the vaccine temporarily reversed ( 6 hour limit for safety). In the event that the male is not willing to take the injection, the willing female will be allowed the option to have a court order issued to reverse the treatment to "wake up" the male from sexual slumber.

Think of a world where no heterosexual male ever acts in a sexually unwanted and distasteful manner (or even notices a female) and it would free females up from spending hours in their bathrooms primping to attract said males. There would be no need to wear perfume, get their hair "did" or buy an extensive wardrobe. An old pair of jeans and a cotton T-shirt would level the playing field quite nicely. Throw in that single pair of filthy Nike's and the wardrobe would be complete. To shave or not shave would have the same decision-making option as most males.

Equality of the sexes demands we erase sexual attraction. Flirting would be totally erased, buying females that special measure of comfort they so desire. Heterosexual males would show females the same amount of attention they show other males, cutting down on banter and awkward and uncomfortable verbal exchanges. Males could focus more time on things that matter to them, like not doing chores, observing more time for sports, hunting, fishing, and lounging.

Instead of developing years on how to sexually reward males, young females could devote their whole lives to the workforce, working as much overtime as possible, and supplying their personal wants and needs. Just think of how much "stuff" one person could accumulate if all you had to worry about was yourself? The list is endless. Without selfish males, females would not be encumbered with childbirth to hinder their upward and safe mobility. Being no longer testosterone driven, docile males wouldn't give a flip who was their boss as long as they get their downtime for *sports programming and personal leisure.

Other than cardio, there would be no reason to try and look fit. Baggy clothing will be the norm, as everyone knows it is more comfortable. Some vocations would be erased, such as the male-driven prostitute and  porn industry, along with high-fashion and cosmetics. Why bother with all this when no one cares?

I imagine as testosterone finally ebbs to the point that males are no longer the raging sexual problem they are now, crime will almost come to a halt. Lawyers and police officers will be predominantly female as males will simply be entertainment oriented and easy going. They will seek out non-sexual companion males, as females will be viewed as demanding and goal oriented. All in all it surely is a viable option and needs further study.

 

*Note: Athletes and selected Breeders will be given an inoculation waiver.

Brains versus brawn, you decide!

When I was a young man, I was athletic and I didn’t realize it. I just did athletic things better than a lot of other kids. I was unusually strong also. I was the oldest of 4 sons and when I was in the 6^th grade; my Dad gave me a 6 pound shot put as a gift. Living on a Michigan corn farm, I had no idea what to do with it, but I threw it around the yard, like kids did back before video games and other senseless and lazy current activities.

Ford Motor Company was embracing a new program named Punt,Pass, and Kick and like the other kids, I signed up for it at school. Now mind you, my dad was what was commonly called, a job shopper and as a tool and die maker he went where the money was and this meant we moved a lot - a whole lot. This was another reason I had no idea where I was in the athletic pecking order.

Consequently, we were the new kids on the block everywhere we went. What this means is you have no real deep connection with the kids at school and feel like a misplaced alien at every school. When the day came for the competition, I naturally wanted to chicken out, feeling like I didn’t measure up to the local kids.

My mom, in all her wonderful wisdom wouldn’t have that and forced me to go to the Dundee Michigan high school and compete. Now mind you, I was in the 6^th grade and although they had categories, the grand champ would get the prized varsity jacket which truth be told would fit a 16-18 year old athlete. Well, when the scores were finalized, I beat them all and walked away with a jacket that wouldn’t fit me for 4 years.

I was shocked, but this re-enforced the idea that the way to success was to be a very good athlete. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The way to success is making very good grades in school. We moved all over the place and I never played football, but found out that I was also very good at baseball.  In Woodstock Georgia, I made the All-star roster as a shortstop. Back then kid’s dad’s coached the team and although I could catch anything that was hit my way, and throw like Ken Caminiti, my accuracy was less than what it could have been.  I simply needed better coaching and didn’t get it.

Unbelievably, I flunked the 9^th grade. My acting up in English class allowed the teacher to flunk me by one point and our constant traveling made Algebra a foreign language. Well, I was of the mind that nothing really mattered except doing athletics and smoking cigarettes and being cool. Stupid times 100. The single best thing that happened to me was flunking and my decision to go to summer school. Back in 1967, it was something like $68 for the summer course and my Mom told me I had to pay for it and I did by working at the local Tastee Freeze every evening.  I think it took my paycheck for the entire summer too.

6 weeks later, I came out of the class with an A and a whole new understanding on school. 6 books on the must ready to enter college list and 6 book reports later, I realized that school was a whole lot more fun when you did your homework and actually knew the answers on the pop-tests. School is fun when you have learned to study and know the answers! What a revelation for a jock! What a revelation for any student.

I never stopped reading books after failing the 9^th grade. Those kids we made fun of who were terrible at sports became our bosses. Joking and skipping classes by jocks was simply making a path that later on put us in the lowest of low jobs. That fat nerdish kid with glasses runs the bank that we borrow from. That is probably a poor example, but you get the idea.

 

Jocks don’t run things, it’s the nerds. It’s the Steve Job’s, Mark Zuckerberg’s, Bill Gates’, Warren Buffet’s, and Donald Trumps’ that do. The only chance an athlete has is to be an Emmitt Smith or JJ Watt – or to have the brains to get a degree along the way that can make them money when their bodies fail and they do fail more times than not.

Think about this when you are pushing your kid to excel in sports over everything else. Nerds rule. They always have; they always will. Teach your kids to read.  Teach your kids to love books. Books and their imagination will take them places no ball could ever possibly emulate.

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Passion versus Reality

Most of us early on in life believe we are going to grow up and go into a career field that is going to bring us massive amounts of satisfaction. Simply stated, we want to do what our passions dictate and this is perfectly normal. Many professional athletes, singers, and entertainers enjoy this for a spell, but unless they keep employed, sooner or later they are going to have to find a real job. That job will pay the bills, but most likely will just be a job.

I guess my first understanding that I wasn’t going to have a passionate job was when I didn’t get an opening into photography school in the Air Force. After I got out of Basic Training I just knew I was going to be a photographer.  In my immature mind it was a done deal and I survived the vigorous training and adjustment into military life knowing it was simply so.

When the day came when the job offerings were displayed, I was like so many other young men in my flight, totally clueless what the militarized names of the job openings meant. The military uses the word “nomenclature” to describe their words. I had never heard the word nomenclature, let alone understood that the job I ended up choosing (Material facilities specialist) was nothing more than a warehouseman.

Talk about unglamorous! I wasn’t the only one in my flight either. Almost none of the 60 of them knew what they had picked either. In our 18 year old un-military nomenclature understanding minds, we just chose something. This is absolutely bizarre now that I reflect on it. You go in believing in all your heart that you are going to get exactly what you want and on that great day you find out you are going to be a box stacker. There is a correlation here to most all of us at that same age. I can imagine how many of have similar experiences.

After four years of stacking boxes and 2 tours in Southeast Asia, I left the Air Force and moved to Baytown to join my family. It was as if I exited Basic Training all over again in the fact that I was at the point where I would choose a career path. Looking back to every time in my life I came there, I realize I could have made a better choice except when it came to choosing my mate. As my dad was wont to say, “You did good, Bubba.”

What I should have done is took a side job and used the G.I. Bill to get a 4 year degree. Pretty much all of my family except my Mom were working at Mobay for Brown  & Root (wasn’t everyone?). What I did was join them as a pipefitter’s helper making an astound lavish $4.25 per hour. It doesn’t sound like much but when I left the Air Force in late November, 1974 I had made a total of just over $2000 for the year and I had 3 stripes.

My plan became to go to college, but did I follow through? A little bit. That’s all. Later on I took more classes, but never got a degree except in martial arts. Sure, I’ve had many successes along the way with accomplishments, but for 37 years I worked shift work in a chemical plant and although it paid the bills, it never was a passion for me.

I suspect you can relate to where this is all going in your own life. Rarely does passion and reality align in a career.  If it did, then you are most blessed. My Dad surprised me a few years back. He had an incredible understanding of math and was a tool and die maker by trade and very good at what he did. He told me all the years he worked in those shops, he hated every second of it. I guess that’s why he always dreamed of finding sunken treasure, or a gold nugget in a mountain stream.

I didn’t hate every second I was a warehouseman, pipefitter’s helper, or process operator, but I sure as the Dickens didn’t want to be there. You see folks; passion is for off the job. You find it with your family, your church, and your hobbies. You work your job and strive for an excellent work ethic, but you get your kicks on Route 66.