20 Recent Front Page

• Populism and Republicanism
• Preaching to the Choir
• And Another Thing
• Almost Last Words
• Happy Thanksgiving
• Cooking
• Eating History
• AIDS Cure Found in Dolphin Livers
• Apologies
• The Small Stuff
• Snow Job
• Bliss
• Ammo Day
• From the Closet
• Satire
• The United States of America:  The Miniseries
• Intellectual Curiosity
• Fifteen to a Boat
• Oh, Good Grief
• Strawman

Frontpage Calendar

Mrs. du Toit Weblog

This site is inactive as of November 30, 2008.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

The Small Stuff

As I wind down my last week of blogging, it is been even more difficult to think of things to write about.  Writing about trivial things seems even more trivial.  When I try to think of things that I think are important, and things that matter to me, I get even more stumped with writer’s block.  I’ve written about this or that before.  Do I need to write about it again?  Did I exhaust it?  Do I need to give it a new spin, in light of the headlines? I’m not so inclined.

What is always on my mind are relationships.  That’s because I’m a woman, most likely.  The phrase, women measure the value of their life by the quality of their relationships, where men value the quality of their life by the quality of their work/accomplishments, clicked for me when I heard it.  In the twenty or thirty years since I heard it, I’ve seen no evidence that it was wrong.  That is not to suggest that men don’t value their relationships, but men are often more interested in making their mark, of having an heir… a kind of perpetuation.  That does not suggest that women cannot take pride in their workplace accomplishments, either, but it isn’t their main focus.

I have an incredible life.  I was extremely fortunate, and lucky, to kind Kim.  To suggest that there was any wisdom in that is silly.  I was just lucky.  I could have just as easily chosen badly (again), and ended up miserable.

What I do know is that I had wizened up a little.  I dated a number of men after my divorce and had few second dates.  Some were because they weren’t interested in me.  Others were because I wasn’t interested in them. 

Dating is a miserable thing.  Our culture has come to a sorry state, in that regard.  We do it really, really badly.  A person is all alone out there, trying to find mates in all the wrong places.  Society was once very focused and forthright about this mating-up thing, and all of our social institutions were about making introductions and getting everyone coupled. 

It’s always an interesting question to think of these things in terms of “What changed first?” Did our social institutions change or did we change, and changed our social institutions in response?  It’s probably a little of both.

In general, it has been my observation, that most men don’t like women very much (and far too many women don’t like men).  It is quite unusual to find men who really like women.  Sure, men like women in a sexual sense, but few really like them in the abstract, or have many women friends.  Few, certainly, have any clue how to behave around us.

Either men don’t like women or they’re mad at them.  The root cause doesn’t really matter.  My mother used to say...if you think you’ve uncovered the reason why you behave in a particular way, but you continue to behave that way, then that wasn’t the reason.  Perhaps it is because so many young men grew up in homes with single moms, or absentee fathers (either literally or emotionally). 

In raising sons and a daughter, it has been tricky to try to explain all the rules to them.  This is partly due to the fact that so many people don’t know the rules.  It is like applying the rules to Gin Rummy on a society that’s playing Go Fish. 

Most young men who have dated our daughter weren’t taught to take their hat off when they come indoors.  They weren’t taught how to dress, groom themselves properly, demonstrate any table manners, or respond to proper introductions.  Daughter always tries to warn them, with phrases such as “My parents are old fashioned,” and under the guise of that, will give them pointers on how they must behave in our home.  Similarly, most of the girls our sons have dated have the personalities and conversation skills of beef jerky.

It takes us about two seconds to size up the suitors.  They fall into three categories:

• Louts
• Decent
• Potentially redeemable, but not likely

The last category are the most difficult (and common) because of their ages.  You can forgive a lot with young people, trying to make their way in the world, and figuring things out.  There comes a point when their destiny is of their own making.  They can’t blame their upbringing forever.

It became all too clear, however, that daughter had not yet developed the complete defensive radar she’d need to sort them out entirely on her own.  She got better at recognizing the brazen louts, and they don’t come around anymore (because there are no brazen louts in her circle of friends any longer--thank goodness!).  There are some tell-tale signs:

• A man cannot ridicule a woman, or make her the brunt of the joke.  He should only laugh with her, never at her.
• He can make himself the butt of a joke, but must not be constantly apologetic for his actions or behavior, or too quick to ridicule himself.  It is Popeye’s “I y’am what I y’am” but not, “Oh, stupid/goofy/irresponsible me.”
• Not touch her in a way that is restrictive or confining (such as rough-play, putting his hand over her mouth or restricting her arms).
• He must be concerned with her safety and behave (always) as chaperon.  This is demonstrated in small and large ways--by coming to the door, by helping her on or off with her coat, by carrying bags for her, escorting her on the street at a pace that is comfortable for her, mindful of his surroundings and aware of potential dangers.  All of this must be done in a manner of being respectful, protective, and helpful, not territorial. 
• He must notice when she enters the room, and his demeanor and light must reflect it with the ease in which he sits and speaks when she is around, and be mindful of how long she is gone.
• He must have pride in his appearance and be charming, but not puff or pat his chest, and be mindful of and kind/gracious to others.
• He must want to please her, constantly flirting (but not invading her), and seeking her smiles, not her approval.
• He must not speak ill of other girls he has dated, recognizing that it always takes two to tango, and his bad choices are more of reflection of him, than of those he has chosen or rejected.
• He must speak respectfully of his parents and siblings, but not pride them too much.

For the boys, there are another set of clues:

• She must not whisper, ever.
• She must be comfortable in her skin, not constantly fussing over herself (twisting her hair or batting her lashes, in an attempt to keep his attention focused only on her).  If she’s preening, posing, or constantly catching her reflection, she’s DANGEROUS.
• She must not share his secrets, or demean him.
• She may participate to finish his sentences and add nuances to his stories, but not correct him.
• She must recognize and acknowledge all kindnesses.
• She must not give him lists of what they must do, but remind or ask what he’d like to do.
• When asked where she’d like to go or what she’d like to do, she must provide a response, not feigning to do only what he wants to do.
• Her glances must be focused on him, but not fixed or doting, and not at all concerned with how others are perceiving them together.
• Her posture and position should not appear as if she’s guarding him, and keeping others at bay.
• She must laugh when he’s being funny, but never at him, and must laugh and smile easily.

With a more recent suitor, Kim and I watched them go to the car.  They were going on a complicated date, to a ceremony of some friends (where nicer dress was required) and then to a casual party.  This required that daughter carry a bag with a change of clothes.  She got out the door with her purse and bag and she stopped a few feet from the car (just as she’d been taught and had been modeled for her).  She held out the bag for him to take it from her.

The clown had to think about it for a few seconds.  (Kim had to be restrained from going out the door to administer the clue-bat.) “Oh sorry!” when he realized his mistake (so he got a few forgiveness points for that), and took her bag from her, and put it in the trunk.

Then, as she’d also be trained to do, she stood at the car door, waiting for him to open it for her.

D’oh!

He was just too slow! 

This last suitor was really interesting.  On paper, he was perfect.  He was intelligent, educated, passionate about his interests, and certainly interested in a serious relationship (not wasting her time).  They had no chemistry!  It was a disappointment to both of them, because they recognized that they had so many things going for them, but he was just too goofy.  He was, for lack of a better word, weak.  His hair wasn’t combed properly, his glasses would be a bit dirty or skewed on his nose, and he just didn’t have a physical sense about himself, nor any pride of ownership.  When Daughter saw that his apartment was a mess (that, added to the fact that his friends were all similarly dorky), was the end of it.  He had no wherewithal to clean his apartment (or car) before a lady came into it, and it made no difference if he knew how to clean it and hadn’t, or if he had no clue how to keep a clean house and car.  The outcome was the same, regardless. 

Daughter is a firebrand.  I always called her “my pepper pot.” She came into the world with opinions and passions, and you always knew where you stood with her (sometimes a bit TOO much).  She has an amazing joie d’ vivre, combined sometimes with a bit of shyness (as she surveys her surroundings and situation).  Those passions made her not the easiest child to raise, and her teenage years a nightmare, but when she was about 16 or 17, she blossomed into a lovely young woman: kind, funny, conscientious, thoughtful, and completely intolerant and impatient of losers.  She’ll put up with a lot, but she’ll reach a last straw point, and then she can unload on you with what we call the “Wendy look of death.” Singed hair, smoking ears, and temporary blindness follow.  She’s patient, and it takes a long time for her to get to that point, but if you decide to continue poking that rattlesnake, you have only yourself to blame for the consequences.

The boys have had similar problems, but mostly related to the fact the girls they’ve dated have been so boring!  Their sister sets a high-water mark.  The girls seem to be half-asleep most of the time, as if they’ve just taken a dose of cold medicine, and aren’t in control of all their faculties.  They’re sweet, but they’re so timid.  Young girls are generally shy, so the boys will give it a bit to see if they come out of their shells, but far too often there is no there there. This is somewhat tragic, because the boys are reasonably popular. They behave like gentlemen (so the girl’s parents are ga-ga about them) and they understand how to date.

One of our rules, strictly enforced, is that once you decide that the person you’re dating is no longer a consideration for the long term, you have to throw them back, releasing them back to the pool.  You cannot, under any circumstances, continue to “date” the person.  You must end the relationship NOW! 

Dating is a try out--sort of like a job interview, and once you decide that the person is not a candidate for the job, you have to respect their time, and tell them.  People who do not do this are the lowest forms of life, something even lower than pond scum. 

What has been wonderful is that fact that the kids hold no grudges.  They don’t blame the person, or speak ill of them if they didn’t work out as a future mate.  (Well, besides the “chinless wonder” who daughter had a single, regrettable date… when he fell madly in love with her, and was CERTAIN she was crazy about him “as all girls are"--he was just too clueless not to joke about later).  They’re also aware that you can’t really remain friends with them after the dating period has ended, but you can remain friendly, as long as they didn’t turn out to be revengeful idiots and pond scum.

All-in-all, the quality of their friends has improved over time.  Daughter began playing Dungeons and Dragons a few months ago, and her friends quickly decided that they were no longer going to rotate among their respective houses.  They get fed at our house (but none of them take that for granted or assume it), and we’re more than happy to be the place they meet each week. The game has expanded players, and now we host a weekly party of a half dozen, with the more recent additions getting comfortable with the group, and the laissez faire, but respectful, attitude of our home.  If it became a dozen-plus we’d be thrilled.  They’re such nice kids and so different in their interests and personalities! 

It gives you hope that “the yoot” aren’t all the sorry, lazy, and unscrupulous louts they seem to be as a generation.  There are a few gems in the mix… a few diamonds in the rough.

Kim and I retire to the other room, once the food is served and their game is underway. It gives us a chance to be “alone” together.  We love the sounds they make and we talk quietly, listening.  They’re talking, laughing, discussing… We hear the ice maker on the fridge, coffee being poured, a box of cookies opening, the rattling of dice, the thump of cans or bottles going into the trash, plates clicking for desert or “seconds,” all done while the conversation and laughter continues.  It is like a modern equivalent of a 4 table bridge club party… the 21st century version of a salon.  They continue their game until late in the evening.  Kim and I eventually go to bed, and I drift into a kind of half-sleep, with the lullaby of happy noises, and a house full of laughter.

We told the kids a few months ago that they “weren’t allowed” to have any new romances until after our trip in December.  We didn’t want to have one of them pining for someone at home, detracting from enjoyment of the trip and the rare pleasure of being with family.  They understood we weren’t serious or demanding that they comply with “a rule,” only that it would be the wiser thing to do.  I suspect there will be new loves and “possibles” in the new year.

I can’t wait.

Latest from:

American Farmer

by American Farmer

American Farmer may now be read on his own domain:
americanfarmerBLOG.com

Blogroll

Blogroll Archive (Zipped)

From the U.S. Constitution...