Manslations (15 page)

Here are a few examples:

Ah, the automobile. The radiator, the piston. The immortal carburetor. Er… okay, to my eternal shame, I don't know anything about cars. But as a guy, I feel that I should know. And even though I don't know the difference between a V8 and a bag of dirt, I'm intrigued by them. (Cars, not bags of dirt.)

Since cars were invented, men have wanted them. First, they want a car. Then they want a better, faster car. Possibly a Batmobile, if one is available. And when we were little, we were told there would be flying cars by now—men still feel a little betrayed that we don't have those yet. What is this fascination with cars?

Freedom:
When you're a kid, you're constantly waiting for someone to give you a ride. But if you have a car, you don't have to ask someone for permission to go from point A to point B. (Personally, I prefer to stay at point A, since that's where my bed is. But if you like point B, hey, having a car is the best way to get there without asking your mom to drive.)


Power:
Cars aren't just “as is.” Some men know how to fix them up, make them faster, add in new stuff, take out crappy stuff. You can tinker with it, make it better than it was when you got it. When a man can take this monster and make it even more monstrous, Frankensteining into existence a vehicle that never existed until he created it… pretty badass, no?

Again, I'm not talking about me. I can put gas in there, maybe check the oil. But as a guy, I have to at least pretend I
could
fix a car,
^*
just not right now.


I was once with a group of men and women when the van we were in broke down. There was no service station nearby (and we needed to get back to solving mysteries) so the men all drifted toward the front of the van to see what was wrong.


The extent of my knowledge of automotive maintenance is that yes, in fact, that
is
where the engine goes. Beyond that, I'm done. But my penis just drew me to the front of the car, to peer into the enginey area and see if… I don't know, maybe there was some spaghetti coming out of some valve. You know, something even I could diagnose. Why did I even bother?


Which brings us to the last—and possibly most important—reason a man loves a car:

Chicks Dig the Car:
I don't know why. I don't even know if it's true. But guys are under the impression that women like fast, powerful, sexy cars. It's probably just my imagination. I'm sure I've never really seen some buxom bimbo sitting in the passenger seat of a Porsche. One being driven by some balding hamster of a midlife-crisis-o-naut.

The Peacock

Did you know that before this fellow got a job as NBC's representative, he was merely a bird? Wait, you did? Okay, so I'm a little behind. The main thing about the peacock is his tail. These guys have, as we all know, brilliantly colorful tails, which they use to entice all the peahens (hey, that's what they're called) to hump.

We look at this and think, “Those peahens are so stupid. Why would they think that a guy with better plumage is going to be a better mate? Pff!”

Well, I'll have you know that human males do this as well. We don't have brilliantly colorful tail feathers (well,
most
of us don't…), but we get as much as we can of the human world equivalent—cash. Or a brilliantly colored Porsche, say.

But of course, that stuff never works, right?

This is the place in the home where your man has set up a rat's nest of cables connecting his TV to various speakers, DVD players, cable boxes, and surround-sound processors. This is an industry based entirely on a man's need to climb the next mountain.

High Def is one example of this phenomenon. High Def improves something that didn't really need to be improved all that much. Somebody figured out that they could tell a man, “Hey, there's a TV that's way better than yours. I mean, you can keep yours; it's fine. I'm sure it works… if that's all you want.” My credit card is actually trembling at the thought that there exists a TV twice the size of mine.

Surround sound is another example of the home theater's potential glory. How many speakers does it take to make a man feel that his surround sound system is complete?
Answer:
as many as he can fit in his car. Hmm. Good point—he's probably going to need a bigger car, too. No, a truck! Something with four-wheel drive, surely! And so it goes.

If you have a man who is into his home theater and you want to make him feel fantastic, note aloud how much better his TV setup is than anything else you've seen on Earth. And when he tells you about the stuff he's
going
to get, become even more excited.

The ultimate home theater setup is the woolly mammoth of today.

Ever since the first cave person realized that it was probably better to be a “cave person” than just a “person standing outside of a cave when it's raining,” men have been obsessed with grabbing the world around him by the lapels and making it cry “uncle.” Or at least we try. The most obvious example is the temperature in the house.

This one we see in the typical northeastern dad. For those of you who do not know, this dad is obsessed with the thermostat. If you grew up in a warmer climate, I bet you have had the same conversation about your air-conditioning or something:

“Who's been playing with this thermostat? Huh? This thermostat is supposed to be set between 66 and 66.1333, and it's off by 7 microns. I'm not paying to turn this place into the Bahamas, here.”

Now, at first glance, this seems to be a financial concern. If you move the thermostat, he will have to pay more. And in a way, that is true. But only on the surface. On the surface, yes, he is the one paying the bills. (Remember, this is archetypal. In my dad's case, not only did he not pay very many bills, I am quite sure he didn't know that he had a thermostat, let alone how it worked.)

But on a deeper level, this is about control. Dad is the king, the Lord Marshal, the chief of police, the secretary of defense. He is the bottom line. Or so he wishes. His life, of course, does not reflect this level of power back to him. He is a regular schmo just like every other guy in the world. He doesn't have much in the way of power or control or influence. Except, God help you all, over that thermostat. Oh, friends and neighbors, oh, you had better not mess with that thermostat.

I think it is also very important that you actually
can
mess with it. You can, and he doesn't want you to. It's very Adam and Eve, out there in the Garden of Eden, where God says, “You little jerks had better not even think of playing with that apple.” And then you do, and he kicks you out of the house for the afternoon. Because you have learned the terrible lesson of the difference between Good and Evil (or, in the case of the thermostat, Mysterious and Boring).

Another example is the man's control over the entertainment system in the house. As I mentioned earlier, much has been written about the remote being a surrogate penis for a man. Uh, you've got to stop talking that way. It just makes you sound foolish. Oh, unless it's 1973 where you are. Then you sound like a really innovative thinker.

Listen, the remote is
way
better than having an extra penis, okay? With my remote, I can control every device in the house—including the TV, cable box, surround-sound system
, and
Xbox 360—from wherever I am. I can even control my air conditioner. Top that, penis.

And besides, if the remote were, in your man's mind, an extension of his penis… uh… wouldn't he want
you
to be holding it?

So the main manslation for the Controlling the Environment section is this: If you can possibly stomach it, let him control the freaking universe. If you let him think he's keeping the planets and stars spinning to his tune by setting up the universal remote control, he'll feel like a man, and also feel like he deserves you. If you make fun of him, sure it will be hilarious, but then you have to live with a guy who feels like an ass all day long. Bad trade-off.

This area is a relatively new one, I think. Cavemen didn't need to pretend to be badasses. They were too busy wrestling with giant bears and hunting giant, deadly boars that were dead set on goring them. They
were
badasses.

Modern man? Not so much. Here are a few of the ways that men exorcise the demon of, “Hey, wasn't I supposed to be unbelievably awesome at something?”

Why do some men obsess about video games? Maybe it's the same reason that women still play with dolls, okay? Oh, they don't? Hmm. Well, good for you guys. But a lot of men still seem to love, love, love playing games. Several big reasons here:

They're fun, okay?


They allow him to actually be a Navy SEAL for a second. Or a Jedi knight. Or a zombie-killing, undiluted badass of epic, universe-saving proportions.


They are one of the ways that the computer industry gets him to buy new computers. (“This game is awesome… but you'll need a totally sick gaming rig to run it.”)


They are easier to figure out than you. There are rules, which, if men work hard, they can actually master. With you… not really.

So how might the best girlfriend in the history of the universe treat a man who plays video games? Funny you should ask. I know one of them. My woman got me an Xbox 360 for my birthday, okay? I'm not bragging. I only mention this because most of my guy friends gave me permission to marry her that day.

Now, of course, you don't have to go that far. You don't have to like video games. There's no reason for you to learn to play them or even listen to him talk about them if they don't interest you. (I mean, hey, if you want to let the solar system be overrun with the aliens of the Covenant, fine.
Be
that way.)

Actually, the coolest, nicest thing you can do about any of his “things” is to try to accept whatever he likes about them and just go with it. That's all we can really do for each other anyway, isn't it? You're never going to like all the same stuff. Sometimes the best you can do is let him feel fantastic about the stuff he likes, even if you think it's the most overblown, silly, ridiculous thing ever.

The main point is, don't make him feel like a jerk for liking them, because let me tell you, it could be a lot worse than him sitting around pretending to shoot stuff.

Ever since men and women have been getting together, men have been running off to hang out with their idiot friends. And women have been suspicious about it. What's the draw? Why do men do this? Well, in a sense, it's just more badass make-believe. When a guy is with his guy friends, he can pretend to be the total badass that he's pretty sure that
you're
pretty sure he isn't.

He can talk about guy things, and nobody asks him what he's thinking right now. It's not a knock to you, and it's definitely not a competition (you vs. the morons). Not for him, anyway. It's just an outlet for his testosterone. It's a reassurance to him that he hasn't become domesticated (even when, wow, he sure has). Plus, you know, these are his friends. He likes these idiots. What's wrong with that?

Try not to give him too much crap about this, as it shouldn't be any kind of a problem for your relationship. Well, not unless he spends two hours a night on the phone with the same idiot friend (as one woman wrote in to tell me). Yeah, in that situation, I'd start preparing yourself to overhear a conversation involving someone being unable to “quit” somebody else.

Idiot Friends through History

Look, this has been going on for a long time. For what it's worth, Socrates said his dying words to his pal Plato. His wife was sitting right there, and the last words go to one of his idiot friends? Yeah, I'm pretty sure there were a couple of awkward moments at the funeral when Plato and Socrates's wife were both standing there at the cold-cut plate.

The Crusades

During this time, there was a lot of, “Honey, come
on.
I have to go off and save the holy land, honey. No, no, I am not just looking for an excuse to go off and hang around with the guys. I am
not
. There are no women going along. Baby, it's a church thing, for Christ's sake. The archbishop is going, okay? I'm not going to mess around on you. Look, all of your friends are still going to be around. Why can't you just have fun with your friends, and I'll have fun with my friends? No, I'm not saying that I am
going
to have fun with my friends. It's… it's a figure of speech. It… oh man, I can't wait until the Dark Ages, when I can just put you in a dungeon or something. You are a real Ann Boleyn. No, that is not a threat. Look, don't make me choose my words, okay?”