BY JOE HUDSON
I was on the front porch when you drove by and I waved, having earlier poured some coffee an inch to the right of my cup, which I blamed on an interview I heard on our TV in the next room. The hosts of the show, husband and wife, were interviewing an actress about her upcoming marriage and, regarding her fiancé, the actress gushed “He’s a fantastic man!”
Whoa! There are no fantastic men.
Sorry, ladies, if you’re thinking of dating, marrying, are already married to, or coming within 15 feet of a man, keep reading. This is important information. Sure, there are good guys and decent fellows, and there are caring and loving men. But fantastic men? In your dreams.
American males come as close as you’re going to get to finding a fantastic man, but no cigar. We’re trying. We really are. Young men will carry diaper bags, some of us have fought for equality, and it’s now normal for a man to eat a watercress salad, but it’s all an act, a role we play so you’ll be happy.
We’d like to find a cuddly, soft, understanding version of ourselves, but you must realize that inside of us is a barbarian constantly forgetting the courteous positioning of your toilet seat because he’s distracted by a desire to burn a village all the way down to the ground. Men are ruthless, aggressive, egotistical, and constantly seeking power.
That’s how, in early history, we were compelled to keep wild animals from eating our children. It’s how we built roads and dams, bent steel and made skyscrapers and hospitals and interstate highways that led to shopping malls. We harnessed electricity to light up our streets and power our refrigerators. This led to even greater accomplishments, including power tools and grilling accessories.
We are wild beasts who, since the dawn of time, have worked hard to make nature and the universe submit to our will. It may have caused global warming, strip malls, and increased concrete sales, but it also has made this a much nicer place to live.
Again, ladies, be warned. Men belch, scratch, and pass methane gas like a herd of Holsteins. It’s in our blood. That’s why a “fantastic man” is an unsustainable front. I’ve never met the actresses’ fiancé. He may be great at hiding his flaws, but I know he’s not fantastic.
If you have a man, you have a wild creature wearing clothes. Never ask him to watch the kids. Would you ask a wild gorilla to watch your children? I never watched our kids the way my wife would. If a kid eats bottle caps, falls down the stairs and knocks out a tooth, men think it’s something to video and high-five about with our buddies.
Don’t misunderstand me. Men can be fun. We invented fun. We can drag people on an innertube through the water for hours and laugh the entire time. Only a man would think up the polar bear challenge and hot-dog eating contests.
Men will look after you. We are hardwired to protect our village, not with intellect — goodness no — but with muscle. I don’t care if he regularly listens to NPR and knits drop-dead gorgeous mug cozies, every man keeps the equivalent of a ball bat or golf club handy. I have many weapons, but I will not tell you where they are because I don’t want you to have an advantage if we end up in mortal combat.
The truth is, we’re all flawed. Guys may be a bit more flawed than women, but neither gender is perfect. Nevertheless, men make no apologies for loving their family and friends.
So whatever man you have, he will never be fantastic. We’re not wired for “fantastic.” But should someone threaten, hurt, or make you cry, they’ll probably get to see your man’s hidden lead pipe and his Japanese throwing stars.
As for me, I must go clean up some coffee before it stains our tablecloth.
Readers can write to Joe at Joehudsn@gmail.com and Facebook (View from the Hudson). He is author of “Big Decisions are Best Made with Hot Dogs” and “A View from the Front Porch.”