Children's Story

Motorbike Dreams

I know nothing about motorcycles. But I don’t know anything about cars either. As the weather warms and the days get longer I feel more and more like I’d rather be on two wheels than four. I’ve been casually working in the idea of getting a motorcycle. My step-son is 11 going on 12 and I’ve stated to him that when he turns 16 I’ll get one and we’ll learn how to ride and maintain it together. Whether his mother exercises a last second veto is another story, but what kind of bike to get is something I can dream about now.

The kid, of course, would be pleased to get a dirt bike. And though it would put a cramp in my idea of commuting to work on it and the two of us taking turns jetting between baseball practices and trips to the drug store, it’s starting to grow on me: If only as an influencing concept.

For a prospective motorcycle guy, I’m not that big a fan of most motorcycles. I hate sport bikes and I’m not really a fan of touring bikes. Ducatis and Harleys don’t interest me in the slightest. So where does that leave me? As I mentioned, I know nothing about motorcycles, so I don’t even know the classification. I believe it's just called Standard or Naked. But these late sixties Triumphs, BSAs, Hondas seem like they would suit me just fine. Not that they would have to be vintage pieces per-say. Something reasonably similar in size and shape would do.

One Step Forward...

This past weekend was an interesting crossroads in my gentlemanly journey.

Saturday was an opportunity to participate in a prime gentlemanly activity: Helping a friend move.

Most people would employ any and every excuse to avoid this activity. But I look forward to it. It’s an exercise that includes nearly every aspect of gentlemanly living. For one thing, it’s an opportunity to wear ragged jeans, flannel and boots in an appropriate context. There is also a hefty dose of male bonding, modern courtesy / gallantry, and exercise.

I suppose men whose daily work is in the realm of tools, trucks and labor might not get the same thrill from these activities on a Saturday, but when you spend half your waking life in a desk, the prospect can be a little exciting. It can become a confirmation of your manliness. The dirty handed problem solving can appeal to the cave man inside of you.

Sunday, on the other hand, provided a reminder of how far I may have to go to become the grown man I aspire to be. It was the day of my fantasy baseball draft. Though it provided an equally strong dose of male bonding, it was remarkably less manly. By my current standards, it seemed almost juvenile. Hopefully a last major bastion of a suspended post-adolescence.

I think I can still rationalize most of it, as it essentially is a form of sports gambling. And my approach has at least evolved a bit. At this year’s draft I traded a baseball cap and sneakers for a cardigan and Sperrys. I swapped out an elaborately labeled spread sheet for a simple moleskin notebook. And I passed on cans of Coors Light, in favor of Crown Royal on the rocks.

Finally, perhaps feeling as though I had short changed my family on quality time over the weekend, I returned from the fantasy baseball draft with a brand new Wii Fit. It is a very fun way to get some exercise and strengthen your core muscles. And a supremely fun family activity. Though it certainly isn’t how our grandfathers would have rolled. The combination of yoga, step aerobics and bubbly video games could make for the most unmanly cocktail yet.

Bald Lemonade

When life hands you lemons, you’re left with two options: bitch and whine about the sour taste, or make lemonade with them. So when life hands you baldness, what’s the lemonade?

I suppose it depends on whether you like lemonade or not. Or more importantly if you’re thirsty. Being thirsty is something you don’t really have control over. It’s a natural instinct. So are sexual attraction and initial human perceptions.

An anthropological study* found that “Pattern baldness may signal social maturity, a non-threatening form of dominance associated with wisdom and nurturance.” Meaning women’s baser instincts around choosing a mate rely on baldness to indicate a good potential husband and father. Furthermore, facial hair also indicated sexual potency and dominance. (Supposedly, the Connery on the right is more attractive)


In fact that leads me to believe that men who attempt to hide their baldness are in fact aptly demonstrating to the opposite sex that they do not actually posses the traits that their baldness would subconsciously indicate. Much in the same way women incorrectly assume that men automatically desire thin women, Delilah doesn’t want her Samson out ripping apart lions, destroying temples and slaying Philistines.

I guess it all comes down to embracing the characteristics that come with age as opposed to clinging to your youth. I wouldn’t suggest that men who are losing their hair are lucky. But when life hands you baldness lemons, you have to embrace the thirst quenching possibilities instead of fostering the want of a snack.

*The Evolutionary Significance and Social Perception of Male Pattern Baldness

A Good Plum

Let’s face it, some fruits are a bit of a crap shoot. You seldom go wrong with apples, bananas and oranges. And I can’t say I’ve ever met a watermelon I didn’t like. But in my opinion, the best fruit varieties are the ones that offer the prospect of a little gamble. Some people can’t stand grapefruit. Perhaps that’s because they stumbled upon a few less than stellar ones to start. With a little persistence you’ll discover that one out of a dozen grapefruits is a magnificent treat. Peaches are hit or miss. Same goes for pears and pineapples to some extent. But by and large, even spotty fruits tend to have a fairly wide margin of error.

But plums offer the greatest thrill. A plum can be a bitter miserable experience. It can be a soaking wet, bland affair. It can even be an awkwardly stiff sensation coupled with a flavor that could be described as unflavored pickle. But every so often, you take a plum in hand, pierce the rubbery skin and hit the jackpot. I would go so far as to say there is no such thing as a good plum. There are only disappointing plums and great plums. When you’re lucky enough to catch one, it can brighten your entire day. A mix of great flavor and beautiful color and the cleanest, smallest most adorable remnant of trash the fruit world has to offer. It almost makes the sticker seem cumbersome.

I just had a good one. It was like finding and unopened Christmas present with my name on it. And it’s put a mildly sticky veneer of contentment on a previously crummy feeling day. It makes me want to send off a salutation of: “... goodbye for now. May your next plum be a good one.”

Endorsements | B M

Bushmills


Irish whiskey has a lot in common with Scotch. It's just smoother and milder. There aren't nearly as many varieties. In fact there's only 3 distilleries on the whole island to Scotland's 90. One makes Jameson, one a handful of small brands and way up north they make Bushmills. This was my grandmother's brand. I'll have to start calling it grandmother's milk.

Bangers and Mash


The phrase meat and potatoes usually requires a few caveats: Filet and au gratin for instance. But a couple boiled sausage links suspended in a heap of mashed potatoes is a meat and potatoes' meat and potatoes.

Booker T & the MGs



When a rhythm section is this good, who needs a singer. He'd only get in the way. One more B.M.: Brotherhood, man.

5X5 Weight Training

For several months I’ve been using a weight training program designed for endurance athletes. I used it to suplement my weight loss. It was basically a combination of circuit training and strenght training. I did one set of 12 reps for every muscle group and between every 5 sets I’d do 15 minutes of cardio. I chose it because it seemed like a natural extension of the old school fitness trail I did through the summer. That included a combination of running and calisthenics. The weight program included variations of bench and military presses, lat pull downs, bicep curls, tricep extensions, rows, squats, leg curls and extensions, calf raises and sit ups.

Having reached my primary weight loss goal, I’ve decided to concentrate on building some muscle mass and gaining some strength. My previous weight lifting stints had always been built on an old weight training book my dad bought me when I was a teenager. It outlined programs for different sports and included exercises in 3 sets of 8 to 12 reps.

I’ve just started a new program. It’s a modified version of a power lifting routine. It’s called a 5x5. I took out some of the dead lifting and other dangerous elements and tailored it to something I can do at home and at the gym.

I'm doing:
5 sets of 5 reps of bench press
5 sets of 5 reps of squats
3 sets of 5 reps of military press
3 sets of 5 bent over rows
3 sets of 5 pull ups / chin ups
push ups to fail
V sit ups to fail

What I like about this routine is that it’s not a new method. In fact it’s about as old school as it gets. The height of it’s popularity was in the 1940s, which seems to fit nicely with my jogging, swimming, jump roping, pushup -pullup, medicine ball, all around old school fascinations. It also seems like an ideal change of pace from my last routine. Loading up on exercises that hit lots of muscle groups instead of isolating them. I'll probably end up going back and forth to keep things stimulating and prevent boredom.

Bowling Together

I have a group of friends that have been close since high school. As we’ve all settled down, gotten married and had kids, we’ve had fewer opportunities to get together. We used to spend an inordinate amount of time together, many of us taking turns as roommates through and after college. We went through phases when we went bowling once a week, that evolved into a weekly poker game and gradually faded away. I had them over to my house for my son’s birthday party. It seems to be that weddings, funerals and children’s birthday parties are the only times we hang out. At the party we set up a poker game for this past Friday. We saw it through and I’m so glad we did. It was a blast.

I’ve given up Myspace for Lent and I have yet to create a Facebook account. I have no intention of doing so anytime soon. I even quit the bar band that I’ve been playing in for the past year and a half. I’ve discovered in the flux of this that a fundamental need for a gentleman is a social capital. Back in the day, when you could conceivably call someone that wasn’t home and not establish contact with them, men needed social organization. They needed regular meetings of their social clubs, poker or bowling games, and various leagues, committees and unions.

Sunday afternoon, I marched with my division of the A.O.H. in the Allentown St. Patrick’s Day Parade. A.O.H. stands for the Ancient Order of Hibernians. An Irish Catholic organization created in 1836 to aid new Irish Immigrants in the United States with integration. It’s a lot like the Lyons, Elks, Knights of Columbus, etc. Most of these groups are populated by older gentleman. Retired guys in need of social interaction, a charitable outlet and a touchstone of cultural pride. I typically avoid the meetings due to all the bickering and arguing. But the events and functions are a lot of fun. Old Irish guys getting drunk, telling fantastic stories and sharing social capitol. Above all, they are true gentleman. They don’t swear or swindle. They give of themselves and they adhere to the old school ways as though they’re called to it by duty.

Perhaps social networking web sites are the modern replacement of these organizations. I for one think that they’re missing a few essential elements. Their a fine way to communicate with people. A more than fair trade off for phones without caller ID or voicemail. But you really should be with people. More than that, you should belong to something. Robert Putnam wrote a book called Bowling Alone that covers the changing social landscape of America. I have not read it yet, but it’s on my radar. He’s also written a book in hopes of starting a movement to rekindle this part of us called Better Together.

Even if you have to start one yourself, join a group or organization. Make a point of regular attendance or events. And garner a little honest, American, hand to hand social capitol. These times are calling for it. Break away from the “Me” generation that has created things like blogging and twittering about yourself. The real way to look and act like our grandfathers is to build a society like the one they belonged to. With bowling and softball leagues, regular poker games, beef & beer dinners and the local social hall, family picnics, hunting & fishing trips, guys with nicknames, and vegetable gardens that create enough green peppers for all the guys in the club.