Men

Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men...

Oooh, I hate that show "Two And A Half Men", although I admit the theme song is funny and head-sticking.

But I do like men!

Before you jump to the conclusion that I'm some kind of hussy (LOL! What a word - "hussy"), hear me out.

I feel I need to explain myself on the fact that I like men as opposed to being a "man-hater", as one man has accused me of being.

To accuse me of being a "man-hater" is, to me, outrageous.

There are men with a lot of good in them, and there are men with a lot of bad in them, but I couldn't fairly say that I believe all men are bad and therefore should be hated. To me, that is immature thinking at best, and delusional or even psychotic thinking at worst.

One evening last month, I went into my basement and my nostrils were assaulted by the scent of men's cologne.

I loudly said, "It smells like men down here."

Two of my teenaged daughters were sitting on my 17-year-old daughter's bed, having just sprayed some Axe into the air.

My 14-year-old daughter started singing, "Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men..."

My 17-year-old daughter said, "Attractive men?"

I said, "Well, yes, preferably."

But I was being silly.

Really, if there were ANY men in our basement, I would not be concerned about whether or not they were attractive.

Any person in my basement would give rise to the question, "Who are you and what are you doing in my basement?" regardless of gender, asked verbally, or by silently watching to find out the answer.

I may be a strange kind of woman, but to be honest (and there is no better way to be), I don't notice men very often. I recently told this to one of my best friends, who is a man, and he found it hard to believe, but I swear it is true.

Most of my closest friends are men. And something I have noticed about them is that all but one of them live with their mother.

That's gotta be good, huh? Men who love their mothers so much that even though they are grown men, they choose to live with her. The only one who doesn't is my husband, but before he met me, he was considering moving in with his mom, as his life was falling apart all around him. But that's another story for another blog entry.

One of my man friends lives in Ontario with both his parents. Another resides in Terrace, BC, also with both his parents. One occupies a piece of Mississippi real estate with his "ma". And one lives in jolly olde England with his "mum".

I used to have a friend who lived with an elderly woman who was not his mother for whom he was a caregiver. Interestingly, he was very hateful towards his mother. Interestingly he is no longer my friend. And, interestingly, he was the one who accused me of being a man-hater.

If a man does not love his mother, I think it's a pretty good indicator of his attitude towards women in general.

My dad never spoke to me about his mother. He left her and his brothers behind in Serbia when he emigrated to Canada in the 1950s. I don't even know her name and don't expect my dad will tell me as he won't return my calls.

And my dad was not nice to my mom. And no wonder my mom left him. And my dad now has nothing to do with either of his own children, those being my sister and me, by his choice.

Given that kind of relationship with my father, I might be a candidate for hating men. But I am not so blind as to say "All men suck" just because my dad is a _______ (insert negative description of your choice to refer to men who cut off relationship with their own children).

And hey, my dad raised me for 18 years, for better or for worse. I am grateful for that much from him.

At the age of 13, a man who was 21 entered my life and did some bad things to me. If you knew the story, you might think I'd go on to hate men. But, no, I did not.

From age 18 till 36, I was involved with a man who treated me like a subhuman. I could have hated men because of that, but instead I chose to stay with him for 18 years, hoping for positive change. Eventually, sanity started to grow in my heart and I found a way out.

I was fully prepared to live without any man, not because I hated men, but because I didn't need one.

I don't need one.

But it's nice that I do have one with whom I get along most of the time.

No human being is perfect. Heck, look at me - my man has got to live with ME and I'm far from perfect.

Furthermore, I continue to befriend the odd man from time to time, when they happen to be friend-worthy, just as I would with friend-worthy women.

And anyone who says "a woman can't be 'just friends' with a man" reeks of the ex and is someone with whom I don't want to chill.

I love the Biblical account in John chapter 8, when Jesus says of the woman accused of adultery, "He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her," and everyone leaves.

No man - no person - is without sin.

And no man is an island. No woman is, either. We need EACH OTHER, but that's not to be confused with needing each other in order to be happy. I can't do everything by myself - can you? Heck, how do you think I had seven kids?

I leave you with a song by the Rossington-Collins Band, "One Good Man".

"All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the LORD hath laid on him the iniquity of us all." ~Isaiah 53:6