“How to Be a Man”
As the American family rapidly redefines itself, the process of parenting evolves (or devolves) as well. In the days of your Great Grandpappy Wilbur, all facets of the homefront were stagnant and simple: Momma stayed home and maintained the house, Pappy sold moonshine to alcoholic miners, and Granny fried a few possums in the kitchen. The men hunted, killed injuns, and brandished obscene waistlines. The women cooked, reared babies, and brought Pappy his bourbon. Everyone knew their role—and everyone knew the expectations placed upon them.
But that was then. Now… what does it mean to be a man? Does anyone have a clue? Families no longer raise a boy hoping he’ll become a strapping young man one day. In fact, being a man now has a negative connotation—“manliness” evokes images of recklessness, violence, and stupidity. Even if we wanted to be men… how would we go about doing so? We’re no longer the providers; women control most of the wealth in this country. We no longer need to capture food in the wild; everything, from London broil to ostrich burgers, is available at the supermarket. We’re no longer the protectors; women walk the streets, armed to the teeth with mace, rape-whistles, pepper spray, purse-sized handguns, and raging hormonal imbalances. The John Wayne-era man has been put to the pasture; instead, everyone looks to Dr. Phil as the parental ideal. And could you imagine what Dr. Phil would say about the Duke? “Y’all see, Mr. Wayne just doesn’t communicate well with others! He needs to learn that not everything can be solved with violence. He needs to be more in touch with his feelings!” As men, we know what we’re not—but we haven’t figured out what we are.
Don’t worry, boys. Here at Last Story—the Internet’s last bastion of red-blooded, heterosexual-fueled testosterone—we’ve Majored in Manhood. We have PhDs in Manliness. We’ve got crinkled up cans of Milwaukee’s Best by our feet. Our balls are the size of Alpha Centauri. So don’t fret about being raised in a single-family home with Aunt Bertha as your only male role model; sit up close to your computer and take a quick course, detailing the Ten Steps on How to Be a Man.
Step One: Stop caring about what other people think about your clothes or hairstyle.
Hey, it’s none of your business. Wear whatever you feel like wearing at any moment in time. Wear sweatpants to church. Wear a bowling shirt to you in-law’s wake. Wear a “Party Naked” hat while negotiating a mortgage with the bank. Sovereignty of hair and wardrobe is the sacred right of manhood; have fun with it. As long as your attire doesn’t include thong panties or lace brassieres, it’s perfectly acceptable.
Step Two: Never, ever buy anything with the words “light,” “diet,” or “fat-free.”
Jesus, what are you—a ballerina? Keep your eyes on the box scores of the baseball game instead of your figure. Unless you’re a professional jockey, how much you weigh should be of absolute no concern to you. Period. Ever. A man isn’t supposed to be lithe and slender—we’re supposed to be big, fearsome grizzly bears that can kick some ass and hibernate for extended periods of time. And skinny people can’t hibernate. You think John Wayne gave a damn about his waistline?
Step Three: Never spend more than five minutes at a time on the telephone.
The only exception to this rule is if you’re on the line with one of those 1-900 operators and you’re taking a little longer than normal to pop your cork. But beyond this, phone conversations should always be under five minutes in length and primarily consist of a few low key grunts. Example: “Um. Er. Wanna get some wings? Beer, too? Good. Bye.” Click.
Step Four: Always keep your refrigerator stocked with beer.
A man’s fridge just doesn’t look right unless there’s several bottles (or cans, if you’re on a budget) of beer packed nice and tight. Here’s a quick test: If you have more spices than bottles of beer in your kitchen, you seriously need a refresher course in manliness. Alcohol is the medication a man takes to tolerate women. So be a good boy and drink your medicine.
Step Five: Become a Republican.
There’s just something fruity about a guy who’s a liberal. Don’t get me wrong—being a Democrat is fine for a woman. In fact, it’s sort of cute. “Tee, hee! I’m a Democrat! I care sooooo much about this planet, I don’t want those mean ol’ oil companies to make a mess! Say… does this dress make my tushy look big?” You’re a guy—and liberal causes are the utter antithesis of manliness. Think about what a man cares about: Lower taxes, subsidized beer, criminals getting shellacked, and for terrorist nations receiving a well-armored rainfall. Pansy-liberalism, which includes such pussified issues as recycling, creating bicycle trails, and protesting wars, holds no interest to you.
Step Six: Eat meat.
And not just white meat—I’m talkin’ red, bloody pieces of tenderloin steak. You’re a semi-evolved meat-eater, dammit! You’re a carnivore. Vegetarianism and manliness do not mix.
Step Seven: Buy some sunflower seeds.
And spit out the shells.
Step Eight: Mark your territory.
This is a pivotal aspect of manhood. Look—there are bad people out there. You’ve gotta take protective measures to defend your property… and by property, we mean your wife, car, home, dog, and kids (often in that order). If someone even looks at your wife, stare the guy in the face until he uncomfortably pulls away. If another car cuts you off on the freeway, speed up and return the favor. No infraction is too innocuous or too meaningless to warrant mindless vengeance.
Step Nine: Know thy holy world of sports.
Now, you don’t actually have to play any sports; that would require the semblance of physical conditioning. But even the most out-of-shape of guys can watch sports on TV. And you need to have a good TV/sports rotation, since so many of the sporting events are seasonal. In the fall and winter, you watch football—college and pro. In the spring you watch basketball—but only college basketball. Real men stopped caring about the NBA a long time ago. Summertime is ripe for baseball. Also, keep a keen eye for major boxing fights—and always be prepared to argue forcefully that Muhammad Ali was/was not overrated and could/could not beat any of the current boxers.
Step Ten: Bottle up all your emotions.
The only thing worse than actually having feelings is displaying your feelings. The next time you feel sad, scared, or angry, swallow up your emotions into a small little ball in the pit of your stomach. Then, at the appropriate time, release this ball of pent-up fury and rage. For example, if you think that the dude pissing next to you at the urinal is sneaking a peak at your package, kick his ass for an hour or so until you feel all better. And trust me—as a man, I’m sure he’ll understand exactly what you’re going through.
It’s a guy thing.
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