This is the scintillating title of the Modern Love piece in the New York Times today. I love this title; it is succinct but inflammatory, and immediately begs the question "WHAT EVER DO YOU MEAN?" which, of course, leads you barreling head-first into the article. Or at least that's what happened to me.
So I read the article, which basically presents the author's personal experience with "men" in her life (unapproachable, emotionally cut off, brutes) versus "guys" (those who occupy that nebulous territory between "boys" and "men", simultaneously unreliable and non-threatening.) This gave me pause to ask myself if I define the other half in this manner, and I concluded that I don't think I do. I consider it to be a real feat to live up to the title "man". "Man up" is one of my all-time favorite phrases. I once told a sixteen-year-old boy to "man up" (at peril to my teaching job at the time.) He responded (whiny voice) "But teacher, I'm not a man, I'm a boy" to which I said "My point exactly."
So I don't have a problem with "men." In fact, I would say I've had quite my fill of "guys" or, rather, boys masquerading as "guys" in recent years. Chazz, the aforementioned super-picky eater, selfish and a liar? BOY. The aspiring, unemployed writer who couldn't get it together, and blamed his post-breakup overtures to rekindle our flame on his "chi"? Definitely boy. The ill-fated Mr. Gelato? Dark, but still a boy. Boys...just don't do it for me, thank you very much. But it also crossed my mind that I am not the kind of woman who's looking for a man to dominate me (unless it's in the bedroom. I mean, you saw that one coming, right? Pun intended. Hah.) I like a good mix. I like a guy who knows how to be a man--how to step up and stand up and show the fuck up for me. I like a man who knows what he wants. But most of all I like someone who is smart, and kind, and funny. On our first date, my Triathlete asked me whether I had a "type". I answered: the magical trifecta of "smart, kind, funny". He pushed me-did I have a physical type? Had I answered this question honestly, it probably would have gone "Yeah, actually I have a real thing for short, funny-looking men" (this is true-I had a heart wrenching affair once with a writer who looked like the love child of Tim Burton and Dustin Hoffman) but instead, I demurred. The men I've loved have all been a little unusual. One sounded like a Muppet (again, not joking) but I carried the torch for him for 2 years after we broke up. Another looked like a less-chubby Jonah Hill. Beauty queens, they are not.
But I will tell you what gets me every time with these guys: their ability to feed me, literally and figuratively. Case in point: a few weeks ago, the Triathlete and I went for a 14 mile bike ride, which was followed by a shower. While soaping up, he asked if I was hungry (after 14 miles? Um, yes.) He wasn't making a coy sexual reference--he was thinking ahead to lunch. After our shower, he warmed some simple linguine with tomatoes and onions, and add a dollop of goat cheese so it melted into the pasta, making the mixture creamy and giving it a delectable smoothness. While he busied himself doing that, clad in his towel, I was inspired to put on some racy lingerie. In the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, I presented my lingerie-clad self. It had the desired effect. But that wasn't even the best part (really!)
The best part was afterwards when I was totally spent, and he fed me. As I lay across his couch, he literally took the bowl of pasta, and, like a mama bird feeding her young, carefully spoon-fed me bites of pasta. I could have died and gone to heaven during those 20 minutes. It was one of the most lovely things anyone has done for me in recent memory (though anyone who has read past posts is probably thinking that the bar has been set pretty low...but this was truly wonderful, not just relatively wonderful.) It's funny how that small gesture, the gentleness of it, the loving touch, can just send me sky-high.
Linguine and lingerie...good combination, my friends. I highly recommend it, whether you prefer your boys like boys, your guys like guys, or your men smart, kind, and funny like I do.
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