This comment was in response to 20 Things I Love About Men. The comment was from DavidBryon to Jean Valjean. We welcome additional comments here, especially if they are about the bigger themes of male or female objectification, or examples of why this type of list is helpful or not.
This article is kind of bittersweet for a lot of guys I think. On the one hand there’s this sincere and glowing appreciation of men by the author and some others in comments. On the other hand, we feel as if some of the things we’re being appreciated for are the kind of things were trying not to do because they are this stereotypical masculine way of doing things. So it’s like a beautiful rose but for some, it also has its thorns.
It’s a very positive article and I hate to see negative responses, and at the same time some of the negative responses are so important to hear, too. Is it possible to somehow split this thread into two pieces so we can get the best of both worlds? I wouldn’t want to offend anyone or censor anything here, and I don’t know if it would work very well, but I just wondered if it might.
One thing not discussed here is how this relates to women receiving compliments from men and how that can be a rose with a thorn too. Alice comments above that if it was men talking about what they love in women it would be “breasts, ass and legs”. She is able to identify that as “objectification”. That sort of complaint by women is something men often don’t understand because to a man being “objectified” would be terrific. Except here we have an example where some men at least are feeling “objectified” by this list. Not as a list of gorgeous body parts, but as a list of masculine protector role traits.
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For those who haven’t read the post, here is an excerpt. Read the entire post here.
…I set out to create a list of things that I love about men. Pure and simple. No talk of feminism or slut shaming or gender depictions in the media or rape culture here—just an unadulterated tribute to men, a panegyric, a compilation of reasons to be thankful for the male species, in ways both big and small, superficial and profound, personal and professional.
- I love being Little Spoon.
- I love the way a man looks into his child’s eyes and loses himself.
- I love that men’s various discoveries throughout the ages (scientific, mathematical, medical, etc.) have made our lives easier.
- I love the way a man runs into the ocean like maniac.
- I love the shape of a man’s big, strong back when he leans over to pick up something heavy.
- I love when a man knows what to say and what not to say to make a woman happy.
- I love when a man tells a woman how lucky he is to have found her.
- I love the way a man takes a woman’s delicate hand, brings it to his lips, and kisses it gently, showing how much he adores her.
About the Editors
Vocalyze
If you’re talking about me, forget it. It’s what ordinary guys do. Problem is, they don’t usually talk about it.
It’s part of the day/year for an ordinary guy.
This ordinary guy is semi-retired so you hear about it. Most of us don’t have time to spend on blogs.
If you could get your SO to figure it was worth his while to talk about ordinary things as if they are extraordinary, you’d hear the same stuff, corrected for the fact that he’s probably half my age and so has had only half the opportunities.
Unless, of course, he’s auditioning for New Man status. In which case he wouldn’t be caught dead doing this stuff, or at least admitting it.
Ditto RA , I love being # 1 through 8, I’ll never stop being commited to my daughters . 2of them haveFound”Good Men” . I hopethe other does soon.
You know, now that I think about it, something odd in the protector biz: I had left out one case where I knew the two women in a relationship which could be called “Congenial Colleague”. They were the only ones who actually thanked me. Big, tight hug and big mouth kiss. Nobody else said boo.
I’ve helped with flat tires, too, over the years. From the tires I’ve scored a big plate of chocolate chip cookies, a beautiful wrought-iron lawn ornament, an elaborate seasonal bouquet, a couple of gracious notes and an offer of cash. And never less than sincere thanks.
Go figure.
I never figured my Congenial Colleagues were throwing an IOI supposed to lead to the nearest bedroom, nor one where they wanted to get to know me better in case it might lead to…wherever. But what they gave me was a real action, which in other cases might be considered an act of physical or sexual intimacy at some level. But they never meant that. So why did they do it? What’s the connection? When we next met at our project/program/work (details fudged to protect the reputations of the gullible and impressionable), they each thanked me again, more calmly but sincerely. End of story. Fine by me. My question is the big hug. What gives? They’d been under threat for some moments so they’d had time to be fully apprehensified, and so I expect the relief was profound. I get that. Still, what gives?
I don’t really know. Sounds a little like something I might do, though, so maybe it’s just how those women are, and is just a cigar?
Perhaps what you did the action you took doing something you did not have to do, i.e. personal investment that took time, energy and effort created a very real very human connection. In that moment with the person – and so the response i.e. the hug was the very real very human response. One human to another saying thank you. Uncut, unplanned – just a gut reaction.
Lori.
You might. And it was not a cigar. But why is it exactly identical to a cigar?
I was making a funny to a friend a week or so later, telling him I enjoyed the thanks because it was late spring and that attitude of gratitude was not hindered by heavy winter clothing.
He snorted. “It’s a woman’s coin. Take all you can get. Costs them nothing.” Seemed kind of cynical to me, but in retrospect, it’s true. Unless they have a limited store of big hugs which have to be conserved….
As I thought about it, there wasn’t any cost. I was not notably malformed, and I didn’t smell bad, as the adrenalin sweat had not begun to cure.
All things considered, I figured they hadn’t had time to come down from their upset and so hadn’t thought about anything so it was automatic.
A couple of years ago, my wife and I were driving through a winter storm and came upon a F350 which had rolled onto its side. There was a woman inside who wasn’t big enough to heave the upside door open. I got that taken care of and she sat in our car for three hours awaiting help. The weather was so bad that the cops and rescue folks were dealing with injury cases first. The only thing I did during that time was get out of the car and assure people who’d stopped that we needed no further help. My wife reminded me later that there are always morons who will drive full speed into the back of an ambulance with its lights flashing while pulled onto the shoulder and kill everybody. I hadn’t thought of that, but I guess it was a risk.
Note to potential rescuers over fifty. Never miss a chance to use the restroom because you never know if you’ll be stuck helping somebody for three hours.
Eventually, a wrecker showed up, and a cop, and she and I and the other guys stood around figuring ways and means. When we got contingencies covered, I said goodbye and headed for my car. She gave me a big hug. What…?
Why is a cigar like a non-cigar? Is there room–as in the first case–for misunderstanding?
What’s wrong with a handshake? If I bail out a guy, friend or not, I’m not going to get a hug. Right?
And how come I get the schwag for tires and not more serious stuff?
Fortunately, I’m married and these are all academic questions for me, but they do seem to have something to do with gender relations.
It may have something to do with “coin” and it may have to do with the adrenaline of being in an intense situation and then perceiving a kind of intimacy with the person helping? That’s what I’d attribute it to, personally. When my son was in a terrible car accident, someone came to tell me (a stranger) and I wanted to hug him tightly, to cling to him because I wanted to cling to my son, who was not there. I didn’t feel sexual towards him. I didn’t know him.
Also…let me see if I can say this…physical intimacy in our culture is mediated base on personal knowledge of each other, connection etc. Right? So I shake hands with a stranger, but will hug another actor friend. I might even wrestle play with them. I may have to kiss them passionately onstage, but wouldn’t do so offstage. I would allow a much longer hug to a grieving widower (that I didn’t know) than I would to a professor I did know. A handshake after a car crash rescue could appear cold given the intensity of connection shared in a short period of time.
Physical language is saying something and it’s contextual.
I will say though that I suspect any kind of physical arousal is well, arousing. Whether the arousal from the crash and rescue came from adrenaline, forced intimacy, and intensity of situation and thus was unconscious on her part or whether she felt like she was paying you in intimacy, I do not know. I’d guess the former. Though, there have been moments when people have sex after extreme situations (weddings, funerals, accidents, war) because it is a….joining during intensity.
Dunno. I figure she felt attached to you in a way that didn’t make sense consciously and all she could do was hug you big.
Richard, I don’t really know. I’m sorry, but I just don’t. I usually ask people (both men and women) “Can I give you a hug?” because some people are uncomfortable with it and I don’t want to intrude on their space. I give handshakes plenty. Sometimes if I’m grateful or happy or touched, I want to give a hug, but only if it’s ok with the other person. That’s all I can think of.
Depends on the guy I have known guys that respond with a hug to another guy as thanks for assistance. Different personal styles – societal conditioning, nature vs nurture, however often people will hug a person who came to their rescue because the rescuer saw them and assisted them in an emotionally or other wise vulnerable position. The assistance was no strings attached, without taking advantage of the vulnerable state and ultimately made them feel safe, secure and comfortable by their actions. Hugs are a tad more personal than a handshake and for some a fitting response to a situation that impacted them on a personal level.
Not sure I’m uncomfortable with it. Curious is more like it.
R.A., the same has happened to me when I’ve helped women in “automotive distress”. I think sweetsue hit upon part of it.I think part of it is emotional release. As several articles in this site have said, women are taught as a survival instinct, not to trust or get close to “strange men”. so when you ‘Do them a solid” there’s not only the relief of getting them out of a jam, but also the relief of showing yourself to be a “Good Man”. One thing I’ve noticed in my lifetime, the # 1 way a woman releases emotion is by hugging.
Bobbt, this rings true to me. One time I was at a concert and it got very rowdy and I got knocked down. It was really terrifying. I seriously thought I was going to get trampled to death like at that Who concert. A very nice man had to physically push people back to clear space to reach me and get me up. I did hug him out of relief. Funny, I have not thought about that in so many years.
Hey DavidByron,
You rock.
Lori. et al. Go to “ranger up” search for “holiday heroes”. The guys did not hug. They did not hug the women. You wouldn’t have, either.
Anyway, if a man hugs another man after an issue, it’s “keep the faith, bro”. There’s no cigar and no false cigar. It is not identical to a cigar, aka act of sexual intimacy or whatever.
Several years ago, not being the sharpest knife in the drawer, I chose to start heading for Traverse City, MI, from Flushing, MI. Bad idea, that year. Some place on M115 south of Cadillac, in a white out, a guy coming our way spun out. We hit him at about 25mph. I had no electric and he was down off the road. A couple of other guys stopped, in the white out, to mark our our location with their hazard flashers so that other people wouldn’t run into us.
Due to the number of injury issues that evening, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving when everybody is on the road, no matter what, we didn’t have any help for about three hours. in that time, my wife got into one of the cars which was working and I and the other guys stood in the blizzard chatting about one thing or another. From time to time, one of them would ask if I didn’t want to be in one of the vehicles still working. Since the implication was OLD GUY, I deferred. One guy was a Marine, another an EMT, and another a nutcase driver. Good guy but I wouldn’t have sold him auto insurance. Eventually, our Traverse City folks got to us about the time the cops and the wrecker did. So I offered a couple of bucks to the EMT coffee fund. The guy wouldn’t take it. The Marine was going to be deploying, so Uncle was going to take care of him. The nutcase had left at a high rate of speed….God protect him…and all we did was shake hands.
Still a difference. Fake cigar. Women’s coin. Don’t get it.