Flashes Before Your Eyes

2001

We had been good friends a couple months and here I was at her birthday party. She was trying to end her night on a good note, in the bed of some kid who apparently was the life of the event. I had a crush on her but my whorish ways would never allow me to give in to a woman who hadn't paid me much attention the way I wanted. So when the phone call came from a fairly loose girl I'd been shagging, I took the caller on her offer and went to see her.

2008

I feel as though she abandoned me for the wants of her husband. She said we'd always be there for one another... but here I am, without. I fell back into my old habits of travelling with no destination... riding buses, trying to find myself. I'm gone for 2 months. Finding myself. In Oklahoma, I write her a letter. I mail it to a friend who places it in her parents' mailbox. She is not happy about this. She admits that she keeps my grandmother's number hidden in her phone, just in case I ever fell off the deep end. I don't know what to say.

2004

She loves me. But she's still not with me for various reasons now. I'm not in school, I'm unemployed and I have no real purpose in mind. I am however drinking.... all the time. She drives from her apartment in Salisbury, MD to come see me because I've been avoiding her for a week now. My roommate let's her in. I'm in bed, passed out, drunk. The empty bottle nestled under my head like a pillow. She's upset, but she's even more disappointed. I'm surprised she made the trip. I realize I need to do right by this woman.

2003

She's now attends school in Pittsburgh. I make the drive to go see her quite often. She appreciates it because she's lonely, and none of her other friends can come up as often as I can. She's going through a rocky breakup with her boyfriend... and I'm enjoying it. We become close. She tells me that "No matter what, I'll always be in her life." She uses the term soul mate. I suddenly feel alive for the first time in a long time. I want this girl forever.

2010

She sends me a Facebook message that simply says, "miss you" I look longingly at her avatar. It's a blissful picture of her, the husband, and their one year old child. I am depressed.

2004

I spend a week with her at her Salisbury apartment. I cry in front of her. It's the first time I've cried in over 8 years. I promise to teach her baseball as we watch the ALCS. I tell her about the "Curse of the Bambino". She feels sad for the Sox as I cheer on my Yankees. She prays for the Red Sox. The Red Sox take the ALCS.

2001

I've returned to the party. I walk in as if I just left for cigarettes. She's a little disappointed. She takes me outside. We sit in my car, and she's complaining about how I left to go sleep with "one of my hos" during her party. I tell her we're not together, and she went off to go molest that Jason guy so what's the big deal? She exhales. She tells me that if I think she never considers how perfect we'd be for each other then she overestimated me... but the bottom line is, we're too good of friends to experiment with a relationship. I tell her that's a load of horseshit. I tell her to trust me. She says this will end badly. I tell her to have faith in me.

2002

I'm pissed drunk. My buddies are celebrating my birthday with me. She's with her boyfriend somewhere. She's told me several times before that she doesn't want to hear about "me and my random hos" I don't get it. We used to talk freely all the time. I call her up. I'm wasted. She picks up and I tell her that I'm about to sleep with some girl I met an hour prior. She doesn't congratulate me. She tells me that I have zero boyfriend experience. Three weeks later, I find a girlfriend just to prove her wrong.

2003

She asks me how many women have I slept with so far. We spend an hour rounding out the figure. She is disgusted.

2007

She reveals that she's seeing someone new. Someone who apparently went to school with me. Whoever he is, I imagine giving him a Glasgow smile.

2003

She wants to sleep with me. I refuse, because I feel I'm the rebound from the nasty breakup with her boyfriend. She tells me a month later that she is hesitant about sleeping with me because I have a track record of leaving women after I sleep with them. Maybe she's right. Maybe that's the real reason I didn't go the distance that night.

2004

She moves to Salisbury, not far from old associates of mine. While she's in class, she specifically asks me not to invite any of my associates in her house. What she doesn't. Know can't hurt her right? That is, until they steal something of hers. Boy, was I surprised. I'd never seen her that angry before.

2005

After a series of arguments, I tell her to go off and live her life. I obviously was one disappoint after another and some other guy can probably do much better. I then hang up, and go buy a bus ticket.

2002

She tells me she loves me. I tell her I love her.

2008

She marries her boyfriend. I find out through the Internet.

2000

We hang out together for the first time. We have so much in common. We laugh at the same jokes. We decide that we're going to know each other forever. I usually doubt such comments like this, but with this one...

John Doe is Dead [Real Manly]

This world is full of opportunity and choice and all sorts of goodies. As Brad Pitt said in 'Troy,' "Do you know what's there, waiting beyond that beach? Immortality! Take it! It's yours!" If he said that in today's settings he probably would've added, "...if you're willing to grow a pair and seize it!"

Let me backtrack.

Earlier this year, we were drowned into the Conan O'Brien situation, where NBC pretty much tried to slip a dick in his ass for another guy- and he very casually, blatantly and with much respect replied, "Fuck You." Alright, he didn't say that. Nevertheless, he knew after that shadiness, saying fuck it and parting ways was the best way to go.

I was more than impressed. Half of me expected him to put his tail between his legs and fade to black, subliminally talking shit, whining and poking his lip out. Not the case at all. He approached the situation like a man. In those last episodes, Conan went from 'the Goof' to 'the Barbarian'

In a fine example of professional kung-fu, he channeled the chi of every screwed over, unappreciated, run through the mud, man in America. He shat on NBC and their financial woes without resorting to petty name-calling and cynicism.

I started to wonder why I was surprised at his candor. I am a man's man. Not a fat ass with a six pack and gravy stains on my wife beater as I watch the game. Not a juice head that's always in the gym oiling myself down and spotting other guys in more than one definition. Not the kind that gets a chubby when I smell fresh lumber and touch a new power drill. (Okay, maybe that last one was a lie)

I like scotch old enough to order scotch, American beer and I occasionally enjoy a decent cigar. I love my country. I served my country. I love my God. I like suiting up, and I like scantily clad women, in the proper settings. Not loose bitches, not strippers... classy dames.

I like lounges and a bloody steak, I like a fine tailored suit. I like reading about the Yankee's new prospects over breakfast. I own a tuxedo, and a grilling apron with an ridiculous saying on the front. I know how to change my car's tires, change the oil, and rotate the tires. I can install the battery and know how to read and replace fluids. I know how to chop firewood for my apartment's fireplace. I like spending time with my kids, (if I had any) boxing and playing ball with my son, reminding my daughter that she's my princess. I like to pinch my lady's ass when she walks past.

So why was I surprised? My actions would've been the same as Conan's. Then it came to me like an epiphany. I was surprised because 'man' has become SOFT.

I went through my friend's list on Facebook. Nothing but guys whining about their girlfriends, or how work is SO hard, and bragging about fashion. *sigh* FASHION. Sunday I spent an hour in the mall, eating a Cinnabon, taking notes and observing. I saw more men trying on clothes and window shopping than I did women. 103 men and 78 women to be exact.

Don't catch offense, don't get your panties in a bunch, Nancy. I'm not saying men shouldn't shop, nor am I saying a man shouldn't cook or clean. I'm not ignorant. What I am saying however, is that man should be a steam engine of backbone, masculinity, distinction, education, and honor. Standing on the block, smacking some chick up doesn't make you a man. Thug/Goon =/= MAN. It's like Andre said, "I'm a G- entleman" and furthermore being gay doesn't excuse you from being a fucking man.

Can't picture it? too many of you are more "queer eye" when you should be more like Robert Downey Jr. in Iron Man or Sherlock Holmes. Pillars of confidence, genius in your field of practice, capable of holding down your own. Easily set apart in your demeanor from a woman, or better yet, a little boy.

Is it too much too ask? Are you thinking to yourself right now how I'm just filling in stereotypes? Then maybe YOU need to man up. That's how I feel. If you don't like it, then pay me no damn attention. However, I strongly feel that the decline of man from the title of MAN, is the reason for so much social dysfunction. Too many males, not enough men. Hell, I know some lesbians that assume the mantle of MAN better than some males. Shame on you males.

C'mon guys... we were hunters once! Now we get mad if the foam isn't proper on our Vente coffees or whatever pussy drinks ya'll are getting from Starbuck's. Yes, YOU.

Real men wouldn't have numerous kids from numerous women, because a real man is responsible enough to protect himself and his legacy. A real man wouldn't hit a woman because he already knows he's going to molly whop her and he's no bully. A real man wouldn't be content with his woman being the head of the household. (Note: I'm not talking about whether she makes more than you or not, because sometimes that can't be avoided.) A real man always keeps his composure in tragedy when he's depended on and finally, a real man doesn't whine like a little bitch when things don't go his way. He sucks it up and drives on.

Can we get back there? Can we remasculate ourselves?

...probably not.

"I was feeling real good and real manly. Until a real cowboy walked by and told me I had my hat on backwards. So much for my life as a cowboy." -Michael Biehn