Reflections on Manliness

It's sad that boys today aren't exposed to the heroic literature of my youth. Tales of courage and spirit by Jack London; adventures by Jules Verne and Edgar Rice Burroughs; stories of the human condition by Rudyard Kipling, have all vanished from the reading lists of the modern school. These stories modeling traditional masculinity have been replaced with driveling feminized multicultural glop for the boys of today. " Heather Has Two Mommys" has replaced "The Adventures of Robinson Carusoe."

Is it any wonder that today’s trendy male is the Metrosexual? Has modern feminism managed to displace the concept of masculinity my father’s generation demanded of men; or has it been suppressed only waiting to reemerge as virile and unapologetic as in days of yore? Exactly when did it become a sin to be unabashedly masculine? I’m a man’s man in a world that offers few benefits to guys like me. Well so be it. But I’m not sorry.

I like to hunt when I can and I’m a better than average shot. I can dress game, and cook it in many a tasty fashion. I can put a keen edge on a knife and keep it there. My guns are clean, loaded and ready at a moments notice. That’s my idea of home insurance. I’m not afraid to protect what is mine. And I’m not sorry.

My tools are organized, maintained, and they work for a living. They are extensions of who I am and enable me to perform tasks the modern man has let slip from his ken. I can hang a door, paint a wall, wire an outlet, fix a lawnmower, roof a house, maintain my vehicles, and generally keep things working smoothly in my world. And I’m not sorry.

My boys respect me, and my daughter is an independent young woman with a sense of her own value and direction. I know the best way to help them is often to let them flounder and suffer the pain of their youthful mistakes. I also know how to pick them up, dust them off and give them a pep talk when the situation requires. “Get off your cross, build a bridge with the lumber, and get over it!” is my vernacular for “Go Kid Go”. I’m a Dad, not a cheerleader. And I’m not sorry.

My every waking hour is an example to my kids and a testament to my wife. I don’t miss work, ever! I go to church every Sunday. I pay my debts and keep my word. I read good books and listen to smart people. I don’t suffer fools gladly. I know horse puckey when I hear it and I’m not afraid to admit I’m wrong when I am. I’m a good sport when I lose and a better one when I win. I don’t run from confrontations, or delay dealing with unpleasant business. I live by the rules I preach to my kids. And I’m not sorry.

I take my share last without complaint. I can deal with crumbled chips, bread heels, and three Cheez-its at the bottom of the box. I can’t bear the thought of seeing my family hungry. The house is always warm, lit, and dry. The cupboards are full and the phone always works. I’m generous with my time and enjoy explaining an algebra problem or checking a homework assignment. It’s not about me, me, me in my world. And I’m not sorry.

I’m aware of what is happening in the world around me. I work to make my community better. I vote intelligently in every election. I watch out for the neighbor’s kids and stop to change a flat tire for a woman on the side of the road. I know first aid and CPR. I give blood. I’ve served my country in the military. I report crimes to the police. I don’t do these things because I particularly want to or because I expect some kind of reward; I do them because it’s my duty to do these things. And I’m not sorry.

I love my country, warts an all. And I'm getting pretty sick of hearing about nothing but the warts all the time from people that don't appreciate or invest in this great nation of ours. I know we're not perfect, but the naysayers that take cheap shots at my beloved homeland do it in the only land on earth that would allow them to act the way they do. I don't love my government, or trust it much anymore; but, I'll take it over any other system on this planet. Yes I'm a patriot. And I'm not sorry.

I’ve sent three boys into the world with a pretty good blueprint to follow. They are young men now. None of them know what color “Windswept Ocean” is, or what the latest fashion is, and none of them care. They all know the importance of work and discipline. They are searching for their own paths in life; but they have a good sense of what is expected of them. I’m a doting grandfather now. An anachronism perhaps and getting older for sure, but I’m a man in the classic traditional sense of the word. And I’m not sorry!

Scottie