Grog Speaks

Miscellaneous ramblings by an amused observer of life in our times. I'm not certain anyone reads this, and I think I prefer it that way.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

Pink makes the man

The temp was running a few degrees below normal this morning here in Aventura, somewhere around 60. Balmy by NY standards this time of year, but chilly for South Florida. So I perused my closet for a long sleeve shirt for a change. I passed on a handful of familiar favorites and pulled my pink cotton Polo dress shirt off the hanger.

It's your standard little girl shade of pink. Not too bold so as too look brash. Not too timid so as to look like a white shirt that had shared the washing machine with a new red sweatshirt. Pink like a little baby's knit booties. Very macho. No, I mean it. Very, very macho.

I've worn pink shirts over the years, at least partly as a challenge to conventional male attitudes that say that pink is only for girls, and probably little girls at that. However, I believe that pink, at least pink shirts, can be liberating. Wearing one is a sort of in-your-face defiance of all that insecure men, men who would like to believe they are macho, tend to believe.

It is my belief that such attitudes are based on fundamental lack of confidence in one's masculinity. A real man doesn't have to tell anyone that he's a real man. Any more than The Rock has to declare that he's one tough hombre, or at least looks the part. I'd like to think that The Rock isn't afraid to wear pink. (I'm not built like The Rock. I'm built more like The Cotton Ball, a name that I might take professionally if I decide to engage in professional wrestling any time soon.)

Also, I've found another thing interesting about wearing pink, which we'll keep just between you and me. Women dig a man in a pink shirt. Honest. Okay, maybe just some men in pink. (Some men couldn't turn on a pig wearing pink.)

In an earlier life, I was a technical consultant in the telecommunications department of a large corporation. That was when I took up wearing pink shirts. That department, like most telecommunications departments then, was populated largely by women. When I wore a pink shirt I always got lots of positive comments from those ladies, even the young and pretty ones. They recognized that I wasn't afraid of what many people though about pink on men, and it turned them on. No question about it. I used to have a pink T-shirt that they (or one of them)gave me on some occasion, Christmas perhaps, that was inscribed "A Tru man". (The Tru part had a double meaning in that Tru was the name of a software program that I was responsible for.)

But enough about pink. What I really want to talk about is buying tampons.

There is simply no better way to judge the manliness of any man than to observe how he buys tampons. Has any man who has had any lengthy relationship with a woman of child bearing age, ever not had the assignment or at least the request to go out and buy tampons for his significant other?

Now don't ask me how a woman faced with the inevitable and predictable need for feminine hygiene products could get caught without a decent supply. That deserves more thought and maybe I'll cogitate on that and comment on it at another time. It just seems to me that a junkie might run out of junk and a pothead might run out of pot and an alcoholic might run out of alcohol (because he/she was too stoned to realize it), but a woman presumably knows when she uses the last tampon, or pad, that she's gonna need another before long and she should get to the store pretty darn soon. No blaming altered states of consciousness for a lapse of judgment. Once the need arises, PMS is no longer an alibi.

Okay, so lets get back on topic. She realizes that if she is ever to leave the house again, somebody is going to have to go to the store. Does she call her best friend to ask her to save the day? No. She beckons to her boyfriend or husband, or in my most recent case, father, to do her a grrreeeeaaaaattt big favor and go to the store for what she now desperately needs.

As we are so typically willing to do all sorts of things to gain or regain or maintain the favor of women, we men will give in to their pleading and go. Sometimes we just like to get out of the house we share with women who are in need of feminine hygiene products. It's just better out there sometimes.

So off to the store we go. Somewhere between the door and the store, most men realize the situation they are about to face, namely that they are buying tampons, and immediately get busy thinking of all the other products available at the grocery store or pharmacy that they can buy to conceal that fact. Buy enough other stuff and the other customers and the checkout lady and the grocery bagger might just overlook the fact that you, a manly man, are buying tampons. Jeez! Wassamatta buddy, ya got a runny nose?

Keep an eye out when you stand in line behind a guy in the checkout line. See if you can spot the tampons hiding between the twelve pack of Budweiser and the quart of motor oil. Sometimes it's covered up by a new filter for the air conditioner. Home maintenance is always a good macho cover for tampons. Also look for Old Spice deodorant and Lava soap. You do have to mix it up a bit. After all, four huge bags of chips will only make the tampons more obvious when they are uncovered.

The more delicate the man's fragile ego, the more products he buys to conceal the tampons. Sometimes a man will spend $30, $40 or more on stuff to conceal his tampon purchase. Sometimes he'll wear his hat down over his eyes to mask his identity.

I think men who sweat the buying of tampons or pads is really missing the point. I used to be one of those guys with the camouflaged tampons, until I developed a stronger self image. The last time I was asked to get tampons, by my 16 year old step-daughter, who has obviously gotten past her own issues, I bought just tampons and nothing else. I stood straight up and made eye contact with everyone I encountered in the process.

My message was simple: I am a man. I don't use tampons myself, obviously. I'm only buying them for a woman in my life. She needs me. She depends on me. And I don't have any confidence issues.

Now, I'm not in the grocery store to pick up women, but I know that if any women witnessed my uncluttered, uncamouflaged purchase, they would make instant judgments about my desirability. And I'd come off pretty darn well. Few women, and probably only those with some issues of their own, would think less of a man who stands boldly in the checkout line with only a box of tampons.

What kind of man has no fear? What kind of man believes so much in himself and his masculinity that he will take only a pink package of tampons to the cash register? I envision the women in the store quickly scanning my ring finger to see if I'm committed to some lucky woman, or merely buying tampons for some single woman, or teenager, that is lucky enough to have me around.

So, men, if you want to prove your masculinity to yourself, or to those around you, don't be afraid to step over the line now and then. Wear pink. Buy tampons. In fact, for you single guys, go out and buy tampons even if no one has asked you to, as a pick-up strategy. Just have a pretty good story who those tampons are for. If you get lucky with that cute lady you met in the personal hygiene aisle, you're gonna have to have a good cover story.