Mom and I Talk About Men

I was talking to my mother earlier today. We got to talking about men. I told her that despite some unfortunate events of the past few weeks, I have come to one conclusion; my overall opinion of men is a positive one. Not all women will say that. There have been men who have hurt me. Others have disappointed me. But men have done more positive things for me than negative things, and probably by a significant margin. My only long-term love affair ended after several years but I still have a positive opinion of both the guy, and that time we spent together. Chalk one up for men.

Marty, my current guy, is both romantic and funny. Yesterday we were watching TV at my apartment. I was standing, casually watching the TV not far from where he was seated, as I was waiting for the microwave popcorn to finish popping in the kitchen. Marty reached out to playfully grab my bottom but I was about a foot out of reach. He calmly said, “Hey Spec (his nickname for me), could you move this way a step. I want to grab some.” Pure, adorable silliness. Of course I complied. How could I not comply with such an absurd request? Not only is Marty romantic and funny, but he listens to me and cares about what I think. Chalk a second one up for men.

And of course there’s my father. He has lived a life portions of which would probably terrify me. But he has a strong persona. He has steadfastly provided best he could for my mother and me. When I was younger I consider him both my protector and my guide. I still consider him something of a lifeline, there when I need him. Chalk yet another up for men.

Oddly, I feel more comfortable when in the company of women, but I feel more alive when in the company of men. One factor behind that analysis is some vague sexual undercurrent I feel when with men. It makes me feel uncomfortable, but in an energetic sort of way.

Maybe when I am much older my opinion will change. My skin will become wrinkled, my hair will be gray, and men will look at me differently. At that point I may not have the same impression of men that I do now. It’s possible, but I really kind of doubt it. My mother is almost 60 years old. Today she said, “I can’t complain. Men have given me a pleasant peaceful life.” She then paused, giggled and added, “Well, not that peaceful.” Mom, I know exactly what you mean.