Dearest Anna Lisa Kristina,
I don’t know. I didn’t like the Ahi Tuna. That’s why I always order the same thing. You can’t go wrong with something you know you’ll like. But then again, I’m no foodie like you and 90% of the female population on earth. You know what’s funny? 42% of the females that read that sentence would’ve gotten offended by that statement. You know what else is funny? I understand percentages.
Here’s the thing. I was hanging out with this 18 year old girl yesterday, right? don’t ask me why because I’d probably dig myself deeper into the trenches of man-archism, but she asked me what it was like growing up when I was her age. First off, I never felt so old in my life, and second off, I never felt so old!
I told her that I am one of the last Old Boys. you know the type. The kinds of guys who knew how to take a punch because fist fighting was so common back then. It was almost assumed that there would be a brawl wherever we went. Because were were dudes. Old Boys, right? And then it clicked some memories that, for obvious reasons, I pushed way back in the files. I told her about how, if you didn’t fight, you were considered weak. That if you were with a bunch of your dude friends, even if you were not too into getting your face bashed in by a big gorila fist, and they got into with a bunch of other dudes, that you would have to throw some swings, regardless of who’s fault it was. Because that was Old Boy way. That was how we did it back then.
Her cute little face gave me that teenage disgusted look, the kind that you see on TV nowadays. Well trained this one is. She looked just like that white chick that has her own reality show for doing absolutely nothing except being on a previous reality show that was the spin-off of an even prior reality show.
She said, “I’m glad it’s not like that now.”
Yeah. It sure isn’t like that now. People avoid fights like trans fat. It’s actually considered weak to get into fights! What a weird backwards world we live in.
And then I started thinking about the state of manhood. Today. Currently. In terms of this next generation. And, at first, I thought to myself, what a bunch of punk ass motherfuckers who are physically bigger and stronger than me, because hormones, genetics, and evolution dictates it so, but who’s asses I would drop in a second even though they have Hollywood mixed-martial-arts training, because, literally, I wouldn’t mind killing them. I wouldn’t be thinking about lawsuits or regret. I would just want to punch their face until they were dead. And that’s where manhood sits now. Resting in the laps of a bunch of squealing, crying, well-manicured, punks.
But then I started thinking even more. And after my headache went away with a few beers, I understood what was happening. So there were cavemen first, right? Who needed to kick ass to woo the most fertile ladies. So they clubbed each other until one of them had a concussion and forgot why they were fighting in the first place. Survival of the fittest in it’s most basic form. And actually, it still holds true to this day. It’s just a lot more complicated than knocking some guy out with a club. It’s still about survival. It’ll always be about survival. But nowadays, the club is not a club anymore. It’s enough money to feed the family. It’s a car that’s reliable. It’s accumulated vacation time. It’s a well-timed joke during economic strife. It’s becoming less and less about physical survival and more and more about society-structure survival.
And that’s where the Old Boy has gone extinct.
Whew. I’m glad. I was always scared to fight. Now if only I could file my income tax returns on time…
i like this one.