By Jerry Barksdale —
It’s important to the mental health of guys that we perceive ourselves as real men. However, being macho is expensive and can be dangerous. I know from experience.
I’m getting older, my hair is thinning and my butt is shrinking. Where buns once filled out my Levis, there are two pecans. I’m feeling pretty low.
Nowadays, instead of women remarking about the hair on my chest, they ask me if I’m an albino. For these reasons, I’ve been considering ways to beef up my masculinity and at the same time help other men who may be experiencing a similar crisis. A real man is limited to a few choices. And riding around in a golf cart wearing Izod clothes and sipping single-malt scotch at the club isn’t one of them. That’s strictly sissy-pants activity.
Skydiving, bass fishing, hunting, riding a horse, chasing women and riding a Harley are all manly activities. Skydiving isn’t recommended. I gave up that when my brain reached 10-percent development, which was about the same time my main parachute didn’t open over Pryor Field on a Sunday afternoon in 1961.
Bass fishing barely exceeds golf in the macho area. It’s just an excuse to get away from the wife. Besides, it’s expensive. A bass boat and a 275 hp engine will cost at least $40,000, not to mention a pickup truck and tackle. Anyway, most women don’t know a bass from a carp and could care less about what kind of lure you use.
As for hunting, I quit after I was busted in Colorado in 1978 and had to jump bail. Women aren’t impressed with how many deer heads hang in your dining room.
The three most dangerous activities that a guy can do to establish his masculinity are: date an angry, gun-toting woman, fool with horses and ride a Harley-Davidson.
The first category is too dangerous even to consider. I know from my legal experience that these type women usually wear tight jeans, cowboy boots and drive pickup trucks. Men, avoid women who fit this profile!
On the other hand, riding a Harley is to experience true freedom. There is nothing that compares with barreling down the highway, wind in your hair and a chick hanging on your back. A motorcycle is cheap to operate, uses little gas, doesn’t eat hay, require worming or visits to the vet. It won’t kick, paw, bite or buck. It’s predictable. You know, sooner or later, you’ll end up in ICU in a body cast with your skull wired together. Keep your health insurance premium paid.
By far, fooling with horses is the most macho, dangerous and expensive activity in which a real man can engage. I’ve been kicked by an eight-day-old mule for no reason and once engaged in a fistfight with a yearling. I lost. But the worst experience was when a pregnant brood mare bit my side. All I was doing was looking at her teats. I grabbed my side to keep my intestines from spilling out and tore out running to the house.
“CALL THE AMBULANCE!”
My wife ran out. “What happened?”
“She bit my guts out!”
“Let me look,” she said. “Move your hand.”
“Pleasee don’t let ‘em fall on the ground.”
“Ohhh, you’re okay.”
I looked. No blood, only two rows of teeth marks on my skin.
I’d rather be broadsided by a riding lawnmower while riding a Harley any day, than be whipped by a hay burner. I want to go down like a real man.
Jerry Barksdale
November 17, 2008
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