I honestly
believe that on one actually gives a crap about someone’s else’s childhood
stories, or even life stories, as long as it didn’t mesh with their own.
Having said
that, I was raised in a small Mississippi Delta town that was a clone of Scout’s
town in Harper Lee’s, To Kill a
Mockingbird. My grandmother, who
raised me, was born in the 1800’s and was a ‘southern lady’ as in Faulkner’s, A Rose for Emily. I had no friends who had sisters, so girls
(and women) were an exotic mystery to me.
They wore dresses, had long hair, they talked different, they walked
different, they would get together and giggled and they had, or would have,
tits. They were these rarified creatures like
unicorns and fairies. If they noticed me
at all I would act silly. Hell, I
didn’t even believe girls farted.
This seems
funny, almost ridiculous now, but that’s how it was in the deep south of the
1930’s and 40’s. Children were taught to
be respectful of adults (yes sir and yes ma’am) and especially women.
Women
probably don’t want that kind of adoration now – they want to be looked at as
equal. The curtain has been pulled back
to expose the wizard – and perhaps that is good – but it has lost its
magic.
Young boys
grow up now seeing women with week bladders and pissy diapers dancing around in
TV adds; they see adds for feminine hygiene sprays and for feminine napkins and
tampons; women seductively lounging on a bed concerned about their husband’s
erectile dysfunction; and a women followed around by her intestinal track concerned
about diarrhea and gas.
Women in combat,
a woman President, women super heroes - goddess bless um – the world will be a better
place with women at the wheel and the old stereotypes broken down.
BUT THE THRILL IS GONE!
I still
open doors for my wife, I view her as a magical being, I feel protective of
her, I walk on the street side with her on my arm when we walk downtown –
because my grandmother told me a gentleman walking with a lady always walks next to the
street so he can beat off the horses.
the Ol’Buzzard
Everyone appreciates good manners and respect. Equality doesn't change that. But The Pedestal was a place of oppression for women and it's a good thing it's gone.
ReplyDeletewhat Debra said.
ReplyDeleteI thought we were supposed to walk on the street side to take the hit from wayward traffic be it horses or vehicles. I'll ward them off if I get a chance, but the impact on me should throw the lady clear of danger.
ReplyDeleteI have a terrible mind. When I saw your title, I immediately thought about an acquaintance who once worked for ABS, the artificial insemination for cattle company. His job involved the capture of bull semen.
ReplyDeleteWhat Nan said. Helping your uncle jack off a horse
ReplyDelete*.*
ReplyDelete