A discussion over on Café Philos serves up blog fodder this morning, resulting from a jab-in-jest meant for someone else sideswiping me.
Okay. Okay. I’d had a not-great day, so assumed a snarky posture … one of my best looks, actually … from which I lobbed a few grenades, but — really now! — would anyone knowing me at all not have expected a bitch-slap out of this:
… Sandra. You belong to Paul Sunstone’s harem and I always respect male friends.
Hold the phone!
Yeah, I spat a few nails … good thing I have a plank floor and thereby avoid the ricochet … gave a bit of thought to why this comment grated, took some ideas out for a spin, then came up with this comment:
Excuse the interruption here, guys … but I’m not part of anyone’s harem and, quite frankly, I find the whole idea insulting and arrogant.
Not to take this too far off the path, but I do think there needs to be some reality check going on. I have come to the thought that one reason so many of the men in my life have been significantly younger has a lot to do with a certain mindset that seems to solidify in men of a certain age that pigeonholes women in ways they’re not aware of … an arrogance, as it were. I don’t think it’s intentional … in fact I’m guessing backlash against comes as quite a shock, since most think themselves quite “liberated” in their thinking, but I’ve seen this time and time again.
Any idea how tedious it gets having guys expressing apparent surprise that I’m smart and funny, and how fucking condescending it is to hear congratulations on the fact that I have the capacity to think circles around them?
This isn’t a shocker to men under 40 for some reason … not that they don’t have their own issues.
It seems a bad habit, this mindset, dudes … and something worth examining.
There’s been dialog since, both on Paul’s blog and in my life, so I’m processing as I compose today, checking the vaults of my memory’s bank for interest on deposits and wondering if I should make a withdrawal.
The fact that younger men have always been a feature in my love life doesn’t play into today’s focus; after all, I started that proclivity early and celebrating four 21st birthdays with guys I dated when I was 28 made no cross-generational statements, nor were there any revelations.
It wasn’t noticeable even when my now-ex-husband and I got together … he at 26, and me 41 … a relationship that thrived for a long time and brought us two great kids.
No, it’s only been the last few years that I’ve come up against the challenge presented by men over 50, my chronological peers ostensibly sharing boat space on the sea of singledom.
Finding myself newly single in my 50s came as a surprise, it’s true, sneaking up on me, then leaping from the clear blue without any time to prep, and although I had grown accustomed to sharing life with a 30-something, I was under the impression that age range was now behind me and my future would have a couple more decades under a belt.
I set my heading toward what seemed to be the more settled, but kept running aground on shoals more newly formed. (Yes, there was one 50-something guy who showed up for a while, but he was as close to lifeless as someone still drawing breath can get, so didn’t last more than a few weeks. I think I made him dizzy, and he bored the shit out of me and was terrified of bugs. Sheesh!)
Surprisingly, it’s been the 30-somethings that have wooed me and won.
Why the wooing? No idea.
Why the winning?
As mentioned in my comment response, younger men are neither shocked at the way my mind works, nor do they begrudge vacating the teacher’s chair and letting the class run amok. The very fact that I am older appeals and perhaps makes it easier to accept that along with the years of experience comes knowledge and wisdom and a perspective that may be different.
There’s a give-and-take, mutual learning, that is effortless over broad territory, and although maleness does rear its testosterone-powered head when it comes to who drives and washes dishes and such, few assumptions are made in discourse.
This seems to present quite the challenge to men over 50, and I’m trying to figure out why. Is it arrogance that prompts guys to mention they notice I’m smart and expect me to be flattered … swept off my feet, even … go all girly and ooze gratitude? Habit? Genuine surprise? Detritus of previous relationships?
If it is arrogance, fuck ’em. If habit, someone needs to start busting their chops and get them to give that one up for Lent. Genuine surprise can be overcome by spending more time with smart women. Baggage could be set aside.
A question I’ve posed has to do with the changes to families that happened between the generations, the increase in the percentage of moms who work outside the home and the number of single moms. Does having a doting mother whose entire life revolves around her children produce a different man than one whose female model heads into the world daily, has her own money and often runs the whole shebang? And does this go anywhere near explaining why men of a certain age have a harder time not being sent into apoplexy when presented with a woman who can kick their ass in Scrabble?
I mention Scrabble because of the frequency of “HEY! you’re a smart cookie/sweetie/dolly” moments. I play online when my brain needs a rest, and the number of times I’ve heard some version of that is astounding. It usually comes 4 or 5 goes in, often after a series of questions on my life … Where do you live? How long ago was that photo of you taken? Will you friend me on facebook so we can chat? … and just before I pass along the information that I don’t give out any part of my life story to anyone until they beat me by 100 points. (So far, I’ve given out not even one detail.)
So, what is the deal? Will 30-somethings eventually morph into the shock-and-ahhhh generation? Is it a loss of flexibility, the impact of society during formative years, an inevitable response to women dumbing-down in hopes of getting a date? (I have seen that happen, yes.)
Processing. Processing.
Feel free to discuss, and if anyone should choose to flatter me … it’s okay to mention I have great tits.
A collection of my short stories:
I'm in this one, too ...
And I'm in here, as well ...
Paradise Preoccupied 
Hey, a remark that you write extremely well might come out of respect and admiration of your creative writing prowess, and obvious talent. I think you have great writing talent, surely expressed that, and see nothing condescending or sexist in saying it.
You got the goods. Likely great tits also 😉
As for the harem remark… PPffffttttt, jeeeziz. Perhaps I could see you having a stable, but definitely not being in a harem.
Once again, sims, u mekka me laff …
“… Sandra. You belong to Paul Sunstone’s harem and I always respect male friends.”
When I first read that, Sandra, I recognized it as alien to my thoughts, values, and feelings, and I considered whether or not I should take issue with it.
After thinking about it no more than two or three minutes, I decided not to take issue with it, but treat it as a joke.
That decision seems now to have been a mistake. I should have taken issue with the idea. Not taken issue with its author, who I greatly value, but with the idea itself.
I apologize for having offended you. I will try to avoid making the same mistake again.
There’s another issue here too, isn’t there? The issue of how men over 50 typically treat women.
I’ve read your remarks about that. If someone treated me the way you describe yourself being treated by men over 50, I think I would at least find it annoying.
I need to be honest, though, that I don’t think I’ve treated you in that manner. If you believe I have, then I think you are mistaken.
I think you are a remarkable person in many ways, Sandra, but I don’t think I am any more surprised by that than I am surprised when I run across a man who is as remarkable a person as you.
I tend to compliment people these days. I haven’t always been someone with many compliments. But something happened a few years ago to make me want to compliment people. It’s a long, very sad story, and I won’t get into it here. More important, I think, is the fact I don’t expect anything in return for my silly compliments.
At any rate, I think you probably have misjudged me. But that’s up for you to decide.
Internet friendships are extraordinarily fragile things. People don’t bond over the net like they do in person.
Consequently, a wrong word or two is all it often takes to break a friendship. Even a friendship where the participants have truly enjoyed each other’s company and looked forward to their next meeting.
You and I barely know each other Sandra. But meeting you has been good for me.
I haven’t judged you at all, Paul, and … as often I find myself saying in discussions with men of any age … this isn’t about you. You are referenced because the discussion started on your blog, and that’s a good thing. I actually enjoy thinking and finding myself challenged.
We’re good. No worries about that.
We’re good? Excellent! I can go back to being a sexist pig now!
I forgot to mention you have such nice tits.
Sexist pig … 😉
(Thanks for noticing … )
You do realize I’ve just now suspended all my life goals in favor of tirelessly working towards getting a decent photo of you in a low cut top?
My ability to find a sense of purpose in life, rather than wallow in malaise, must be stunning to you.
Short-term goals add up to purpose, and although I’m not easily stunned, I am easily amused.
Well Sandra, I really hope it’s because you really had a terrible day, since, allow me, how can one begin a tirade like that plus generalize starting from 11 small words said by a person you know absolutely nothing about and moreover belonging to an entirely different culture?
Glad in any case you had blog fodder.
I am an Italian mother-tongue of 62, closer than you statistically to the end of the journey. I like good-nature, human sympathy & intellectual-emotional (even daring) adventure. Life is too short to be wasted in egging one another other, no?.
Men (of any generation) have faults, and women too. My cahier de doléances is possibly as long as yours, the only male in a tribe of tough women. I though believe that most of what are perceived as faults by both genders are actually genetically driven behaviours. We are different, hence complementary: wow, so exciting Sandra! And the war of sexes today, pls allow me, is as archaic as Signor Berlusconi.
Peace, love, sex count most of all, something the new generation seems to have well understood – probably thanks to us, the driving force (and the victims) of some readjusting.
Tirade?
PS
Of course I understand some behaviours can be annoying from the older male generation. But why start shooting before actually first knowing a person? That sounds a lot like missing opportunities in life.
Shooting? Dude! This is discussion.
Maybe not the right word. So many words in this language.
Of course, discussion, and, I need to know you better as well.
Okay … deep breath … This …
… is exactly the condescending crap I’m talking about … talking down to the girly with the effrontery to bust balls when insulted. Sheesh … how DARE I, heh?
First, WTF do you know about my culture? Making some assumptions that amount to me being pigeonholed as a middle-aged American woman with no familiarity with the wider world. Woah, Dude … that is SO not the case.
Second, I named and claimed my crappy day status at the beginning of my ponderings, which is what the post clearly is. It’s how it began, and how it finished. “Processing. Processing.”
Third, and already mentioned … “tirade”? “generalizing”? Again … WTF?
And, finally … I have blog fodder most days without having it fed to me by some git who backs away from an response with a lame excuse of “maybe not the right word’. You knew exactly what point you wanted to make, and I suggest you did that in hopes I’d be so impressed with your wider, deeper wisdom I’d hand your nuts back.
(And, yes, I’m still in a mood. Can we tell?)
Condescending crap … you are totally wrong. And I am sincere.
And I wasn’t pigeonholing you. I didn’t even know you were American. And, you started the attack, not I, and you seem to continue … WTF, git …
You knew exactly what point you wanted to make, and I suggest you did that in hopes I’d be so impressed
Who the fuck do you think you are eh? You are only a ridiculous, unhappy person, trying to verbally abuse people like that.
Thank you for making my point so clearly. Condescending crap is so often sincere, and when one doesn’t get it, one really doesn’t get it.
Yes, this ridiculous woman, obviously unhappy … probably due to a lack of appropriate male guidance … speaks her mind, so it’s abuse.
This was no attack, but a dialog, even after your ‘harem’ comment that escalated when accusations of ‘tirade’ and ‘generalization’ were lobbed into the fray. And ‘who the fuck” do I think I am? Allow me to be a person who has the right to respond.
Allow me, also, to gently suggest that a look at the knee jerk reaction may serve to illuminate some ignored dark corners of an assumed enlightenment.
I can agree that Signor Berlusconi is archaic anyway.
He’s an Italian politician, Maria, as you WELL know. He is what he is, and he keeps getting elected. Isn’t this one reason you live in Mexico? (And, no … we’re not going there, if “there” is Mexican politicos … )
This is why I only post poetry. I keep my controversial views to my anonymous blogs. Much better for my piece of mind.
Ah, Bri … you’re such a sensitive soul.
As you know, I don’t do anonymous, so I take the flak and deal with it. In my world, peace of mind is an illusion only amplified in tones of black and blue.
Whoa … there’s some verse in the making, heh?
Sandra, I reread my first comment here. Yes, I realize I was condescending, because – my mistake – I was surprised and upset at your reaction at my word ‘harem’ so this is was my way to strike back.
So I slapped you (my 1rst comment here) , you slapped me back, I slapped you again etc. … I have the desire to stop this game. Will you?
Paul says we are both valuable people and that he doesn’t understand. I hope you don’t need my public punishment and moral humiliation.
Just allow me one detail on THAT Italian politician – he is about to leave soon: Italians have had enough (I hope).
RomaDude … we’re cool. I’ve not considered this a game, but an extension of a dialog, and that’s never a bad thing. Words are just words, and we’ve exchanged some.
Punishment? Humiliation? Please! Down the drama a bit. I understand the Latin flare, but there’s no need. Really.
Oh … and on the politician … you can own that one.
Well it was after the Train Wreck blog came after me that I decided to turn my main blog into a poetry and fiction blog. When TW was driven off the web by others I drew back from commenting. There are only a handful blogs I read daily and even less where I comment. I currently have two blogs where I write anonymously and one more I deleted last year. I don’t really have an axe to grind with anyone. Respect me and I’ll respect you in return.
Respect you, I do, Bri!
And I know your pain. Back in the days I was writing on international adoption … an advocate, I am … I was targeted by many a fuckwad wacko and whole websites took form around the trashing of little ole me. It’s not pretty.
I don’t have axes to grind, but I do have opinions and a low tolerance for crap, and that gets me in trouble. So be it.
You’re a sweetie. I am not. I’m an intolerant bitch who is now on a rampage I call “Intolerance for the intolerant”, and that’s not adding to the potential for Valentine’s in the box come Feb.
Fuck it.
Here, read this. 🙂
http://hummingbunny.wordpress.com/2008/07/15/how-to-turn-in/
I’ll still send you a heart… covered with broken glass, but a heart. 😉
Since my Homeland Security amounts to a small, white dog and a bumpy road, I can hardly relate.
I’ll take the heart, though. Can use it since mine is a shattered disaster area and my med can only do so much. Isn’t broken glass one of the major cholesterol breakers?
cholesterol clogs
swallow medicated glass
profits to the Swiss
And with a mention of Swiss, you finish me off.
Goodnight, Bri.