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I’m sure you’ve been wondering what my summer camping experience was like, when I recently went into the woods with my son and battled the elements.
Let me tell you, the woods had no chance against us. We came with every tool known to man, plus a power cable that was about 250 miles long, which we fed out as we drove from home to the Moosehead Lake region of Maine so we could have access to electricity while out there in the wild. Because when you’re out there in the woods and it’s hot, it helps to have a small air conditioner for the tent. And incredibly, despite the human race’s ability to solve every thorny social ill known to man except how to prevent mass murders via military-style weapons, no one has yet figured out how to make a wireless a/c.
The extension cord also helped us charge up our electric knife, making it a breeze to carve up trout while out there in the field.
My reputation as something of a history buff distinguishes me from very few men in the critical 51-110 year old age group that history advertisers target. And yet I tend to train my lens less on major world events, like wars and tsunamis, than on the mundane and commonplace.
For instance, what about urinals? There must be history there. It’s not like God gave us urinal-producing trees to pluck our urinals from. (Yes, I’m aware, if urinals grew, they would do so on the ground, like cabbage or watermelon, not in trees!).
Well, with the internet allowing any old fool to publish anything he wants, the blogger can quickly pivot from a treatment of the history of urinals, the bait so to speak, to an anecdote about this one time when, en route to the west branch of the Penobscot River in Maine, he stopped at a brew pub for his last bit of sustenance before heading into the wild, and the men’s room urinal was actually a repurposed beer keg!
What a hoot.
There is some synergy here, as beer makes the average blogger (not me) need to pee, and also I’m going to be in the woods, where basically everything is a urinal.
As the world inches ever closer to being ruled by women, I was thinking that I, as man, could take solace in the fact that we men still do certain things better than women.
For example, it’s clear to me that men are far more determined, laser-focused, and uncompromising when it comes to drinking beer. I’m not saying that we’re “better” beer drinkers; just that we put more time and effort into thinking about, making plans around, and ultimately executing on the consumption of beer.
Meanwhile, what are women focused on? Talking about reproductive rights, equal pay for equal work, gun control – that sort of thing. Like that’s going to get you anywhere! Don’t these women understand that far more people drink beer than vote? If you want to get people to the polls to swing the vote in your favor, maybe you should be drinking more beer with the voters. That’s what we men are doing.
Of course, with a World Cup Final that pits the US v. The Netherlands, many women are going to be taking time off from their work trying to save humanity from doom to watch the event. We men aren’t going to slack off! Let me say unequivocally that as I and many of my male friends watch the game, we will continue to maintain our focus by watching with tankards of ale an arms-length away.
I’ve decided to make use of props at my job to keep my co-workers off balance. If I show up now and again with, say, a stethoscope slung around my neck, they might assume I’m a doctor on the side and rethink their opinion of me.
Not that I worry about their opinion of me. Heh heh. They all love me, my co-workers: the way I arrive for work via helicopter and parachute; the way I use my office to hang my damp clothes (“better for the environment”); the way I adopt stray cats and build play areas for them beside my executive suite conference table.
The Board of Directors doesn’t know what to make of me, because sometimes I come to board meetings dressed in a lab coat. I’m always sure to have a few test tubes in my lab coat pocket, sealed off at the top so I can shake one every now and again and eye it over my glasses, saying “Very interesting” as my co-board members look upon me with a mixture of admiration and bemusement. I’ll get food coloring too, so that all the test tubes glow.
Instead of going to meetings like I usually do, I’ll be purposely late, arriving with a level, carpenter’s square, and some kind of wall-mounting task ahead. “Someone told me to install this floating shelf in here. Please, go ahead with your meeting, don’t bother with me.” Occasionally, I’ll chime into the conversation, as I was invited to the meeting anyway and am only hanging the floating shelf to play a part. The part of the guy hanging the floating shelf during the meeting. Like, what, there is no other time to hang the floating shelf? Give me a break.
I don’t know what I’m talking about.
Except, wouldn’t it be cool to have an acetylene torch and welding mask on hand when you attend your next meeting about your company’s finances? What, like you can’t comment on finances if you’re donning a welding mask and have an acetelene torch in one hand? That’s weak!
Lots to think about when it comes to how to dress for work.