There’s a Reason Men Marry Women

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The following story is sad…but, hey, the guy was asking for it.
Recently, Muhammad Niaz, a 40 year old resident of Mubarakabad, Bahawalnagar, a ‘normal Joe’ with a wife and six kids, agreed to let Pakistani pir (faith healer) Muhammad Sabir kill him if he promised to bring him back to life.  Niaz laid on a table, had his hands and legs bound and allowed Sabir to cut his throat. 

Now, I won’t delve into questions like: “what if it doesn’t work?”, “if it does work, how will you eat with a big slash across your throat?” or “if you really trust this guy, why are they tying you up?”, but I do have this question: “where was your wife in this decision?”

Before you get the impression I’m pointing out her entitlement to an opinion based on potential loss of a spouse, support for the family or general emotional trauma, I’m not.  My question is based on a general principle associated with men.  We are genetically prone to leap without looking.

Case and point: I want a crossbow for hunting season.  We have the money in savings for the crossbow.  Theoretically, if I get a few deer we could repay savings with grocery money from beef not purchased.  But there’s more information to be added to the equation, like: “do we have space to store a bulk of meat?”, “can we eat venison in place of beef all the time?” and “am I a decent hunter?”  The ‘across the board’ answer to all of the questions is, “nope!” 

The odds that my testosterone driven ego would ask those extra questions are low…because I suffer a genetic disability, a Y chromosome.  Fortunately, my fear of hugely ticking my wife off (I do it on a mini scale all the time) keeps me from heading to the sporting goods store.

I HATE sitcoms like “Everybody Loves Raymond” and “Tool Time” that base their entire premise around the idiocy of men and brilliance of women.  After all, I’ve made some pretty good decisions in my life, like asking my wife to marry me, and…some other stuff.  And she’s made some boneheaded choices like…I’ve forgotten because I’m so quick to forgive, but I’m sure there’s a long list.  But I am willing to admit; in general men need a voice of reason in their ear when they’re going to make big decisions.  And by ‘voice of reason’ I mean someone who has a stake in the game, not a guy who gets great amusement from watching a buddy stub his toe.

Back to Muhammad, well, he died.  At a time when she should have been rolling her eyes at a husband moping around like a pubescent kid grounded for sneaking out at night, she’s burying the moron.  And in a few months when she should have been setting her jaw not to say anything while Muhammad rambled on about how cool it would have been to be resurrected, she’ll be struggling to feed a half dozen kids.

Evolution has favored reproduction of those smart enough to survive…and those lucky enough to marry them.  There’s a reason men marry women.

They're All Dead

The Trail of Tears by Robert Lindneux

My alma mater opened the 2014 NCAA football season with a six point loss to the #1 ranked team and defending National Champions.  Rebuilding with young players and picked to lose handily, the boys in orange and black played solid defense and consistent offense only to miss the upset by less than a possession. 

Involving a David & Goliath-esk, near-triumphant underdog feel, it’s a story worth reading about…particularly if you’re a middle of the nation, sick of the overrated coastal teams, football fan.  And what did the nation reading about this near upset of the decade?   A sign created by a handful of short-sighted college kids’ on ESPN’s GameDay backdrop.

The sign, in the spirit of high school, college and NFL fans, taunted the opposing team with a mascot inspired reference.  Nothing new about that, I remember paying a quarter (50 cents during Homecoming) in grade school for spirit ribbons with phrases like ‘Whip the Whippets’, ‘Pound the Panthers’ and (this one might make the news today) ‘Scalp the Redskins’.  But the sign used a rather shameful episode in our Nation’s past to make the point, the Trail of Tears.

I have no problem recognizing the inappropriateness of the sign, but I do take issue with the idea that any particular ethnic group should be especially offended.

We inherit a lot of things from ancestors, looks, health, intelligence, physicality, but we don’t bear their encumbrances, nor suffer their abuses.  Be proud from where you come but don’t allow victimization to be generational. 

Jumping to the side of those whose ancestors suffered a great injustice and encouraging them to pick up that burden creates an emotional weight that hinders a joyful and successful life.  Energy spent on brooding is lost.  It’s energy that won’t be used in a positive way, won’t forward a person’s situation and won’t make this Nation a better place.

Perhaps the greater problem is the promotion of prejudice.  Owning and defending ancestral persecution and victimization encourages groups to remain segregated, disregard commonalities among all men and preserve a bias and suspicion toward others.  It arouses separation and bigotry.

Our country was founded on the ideal that all men are created equal.  There’ve certainly been hiccups…and projectile vomiting…on the philosophy, but concentrating on those events and encouraging victims’ descendants to wallow serves no constructive purpose.  Like a marriage devastated by infidelity, reliving the event instead of moving on serves only to insure the institution’s demise.

Short sighted college kids made a sign referring back to a dark episode in our Nation’s past, an episode that affects no one living today without their own consent, an episode that we, as a country, have suffered through, grown from and become better for having overcome.  The sign isn’t a slight on any person or group (except the college team it was intended to antagonize) and should offend no group that doesn’t choose, of their own free will, to be offended.

At the end of the day people are people no matter their skin color, genetic makeup or geographic origin.  Misplaced shame and offense won’t change the actions and oppressions of their ancestors, nor will it encourage respect, understanding or harmony among others.   Like many people in my part of the world, I share genetics with individuals on both sides of the Trail of Tears, but I harbor no resentment or shame because those guilty, they’re all dead.

Emotion Shouldn’t Stand in the Way of Solution.

We allow our hearts, passions and phobias to trump rational thinking and common sense.  We refer to anecdotal tales, isolated events or fragmentary statistics to undermine common sense and practicality.  Case and point: guns.

Whether you’re thinking, “don’t touch mine” or “destroy them all”, the simple term, ‘guns’ elicits an emotional response.  Ranking up there with gay marriage, abortion and Justin Bieber in society-polarizing-power, conflicting opinions on guns turn the trusted into the suspect, the beloved into the irritating and the rational into the idiotic.

Guns kill…so do Chevys, swimming pools and, in one case I know of (triggering a fatal aneurism) popcorn.  One major difference in this list is intended purpose, guns are designed to kill.  Not exclusively, they’re also designed for entertainment (targets, skeet, etc.), food (hunting still rounds out food budgets across our country) and home protection (rural Americans don’t have access to immediate response from law enforcement).  My point is this, guns are neither moral nor immoral; they’re a tool.

Like all tools, they afford the holder increased power.  When an armed person is standing among unarmed people (think prison guard in a penitentiary), they possess significant individual power over the group.  Standing among other armed people, however, they do not. 

If that armed individual is a trained, mentally and emotionally healthy person, the weapon isn’t a problem.  It is, at the least, harmless, and in dire straits, an asset.  It’s when the armed individual is mentally unstable or untrained that a threat arises.

Though a statistically rare event, this is illustrated by school shootings.  A mentally unstable faction enters a known (and often advertised) gun-free area and forces their will on innocent people.  Unfortunately a country that often claims our greatest asset is our children has remained mostly stagnant addressing this issue.

Another common proclamation with no actual backing amongst Americans has to do with the importance of teachers and education (fodder for another article).  Simply placing several police officers in each school ensures the good guys didn’t bring a knife to a gunfight.  But, considering adjusted teacher salaries in Oklahoma (sorry Texas readers, I’m not familiar with your numbers) are between 15 and 20% lower than in 2006, and that Oklahoma leads the nation in reduced educational funding since 2008, it’s doubtful the legislature would spring for more personnel.

My solution: send teachers to reserve officer training and put a gun within their access (on their person or in a fingerprint triggered safe).   I even have a way to help pay for it (teachers will love this), place state legislators on classroom teacher’s pay scale, they get almost $7000 more starting out for their 4-month contribution to our well-being than teacher’s do for their 9+ months (again, fodder for another article).  This reduction in salary would free up roughly a million dollars to start the training.  Yes, I know my proposed funding option will never come to pass (legislators dictate their own salaries), but, as a school board member and educator, it feels good to suggest.

 Much like there are no atheists in a fox hole, there are no gun opponents in a shoot-out.  Only the most insanely gun-phobic among us could argue a school is better off without trained, armed personnel to faceoff an assault.  At the very least, an unstable person with a desire to be powerful among the powerless would know they won’t hold exclusive power over our kids.  If they shoot, others will shoot back.  If they step into a school to kill others and then themselves, responsible, trained adults are present to cut out the middle step.

We’re not talking political stances, were talking children, our children, emotion shouldn’t stand in the way of solution. 

Brain Flatulence

Yesterday, on the way to the Hinton Jr. High Softball Tournament (my daughter’s team took 2^nd), I had a great idea for an article.  I wish I knew what it was.

This happens on a regular basis.  I get in a discussion with the wife, a friend or in my head; think to myself, “If I expound on that it might make a good article,” and decide to remember it for later.  Sunday morning comes, I get out the computer and think, “OK, what was that story idea?”  And then I sit and think, and think harder, and get frustrated…and come up with another idea.

If the wife recognizes the thought as article-worthy she’ll advise I write it down, and usually I…don’t.  The responding thought to her advice it always, “There’s no need, I won’t forget an idea this magnificent”, and then I forget.

It’s not just the article that gets shorted, so does my bank account (in theory).  I’ll have an idea for a new product or product improvement, or maybe a service idea that, at least in my mind, has merit.  Promising myself to expand this drop of genius into a retirement funding income stream, I move on to the next thought only to never see more than a shadow of the inspiration, a recollection that I had an idea but no clue what it was.

Often the problem is timing.  When a light bulb flashes in the car, somehow guiding a ton and a half of metal and plastic down the road at 65 miles per hour past other ton plus projectiles zooming within a couple feet seems more important than jotting down a thought that I’d never get to from the graveyard, anyway.

There’s a voice recorder on my phone that should be easy enough to use without risking life and limb but I haven’t figured out how to use it.  I suppose I could figure that out this morning…but I need to write this article.  I’ll remember to do that later.

Outside the car arrogance is the enemy.  An idea worthy of follow-up surely wouldn’t exit my memory.  But it does…every time.  I admit it takes quite an ego to assume my brilliance is unforgettable, but in my defense…hmm, turns out I don’t have a defense, just a leaky bucket of lost thoughts.

Then there’re those convenience issues.  If the smart phone isn’t handy or I’m engaged in something I want to finish without interruption I have to decide if recording the thought is worth the inconvenience.  Translation: I have to convince myself it’s not that good an idea, otherwise I’d have done something stupid by ignoring the inspiration just to continue watching Doc Martin or fishing.

Who knows what could be accomplished could I bridge the gap between inspiration and action.  There might be fodder for infinite articles, extra income for a very non-teacher-esk retirement or an eternal impact on mankind’s quality of life.  But for a sense of responsibility on the road, arrogance of inspiration and proclivity to finish without interruption my ideas (dazzling or not) leave as quickly as they come; not inspired brilliance but brain flatulence.