...get outta the way, dudette, real men are coming back:


Metrosexual or Medieval?
Doug Giles


According to a recent Washington Times report, American women are pig sick of the oversold and dandy metrosexual male imago. It seems as if the ladies are tired of dating, mating and watching these candy asses and, once again, are looking for a man whose masculinity is not in question.

Believe it or not, the girls are now lining up for men who …
• Are rough and ready vs. rouged and giddy,
• Are rugged and callused vs. reflexive and coifed,
• Are selfless and protective vs. fashionable and feckless, and
• Are into beer, sports and gadgets vs. buns of steel and spandex.

The decisively hetero girls are looking for some testosterone junkies who are not eating their gouda gift set but, instead, have mixed this smelly stuff with their stink bait and are using it to catch big catfish on the Chattahoochee.

God bless the women who are doing the Sadie Hawkins for guys who are low maintenance and easy going. Yeah … fine American lasses are righteously refusing the low yield, reflexively irate fops Hollywood has tried to cram down our culture’s collective throat. The girls have spoken and have said, No thanks, to the eye-brow- tweaked man. They have sent the metrosexual male back to Europe where he belongs, and, predictably, they have embraced the Marlboro Man.

You’ve gotta love it!

Yes, just when the sensible are about to go Ozzy on society and call for the four horsemen of the apocalypse to wrap this thing up, the clouds break and reveal that there is hope, once again, for our country after all. Part of that hope is the setting of the metrosexual sun. And it appears as if everyone is relieved. Heck, even major homosexual pundits are glad the metrosexual lad has been sent packing. So to speak …

Now, for all you Backstreet Boys who are wondering if, if, you are one of these metrosexual males from whom women, men and small animals are running, I’ve concocted a little test to help you shed your proclivities toward abnormality and begin to saddle up and ride in a more masculine direction. Are you ready? If you start to hyper-ventilate, just take a break and control your breathing. Here we go.

You might be a metrosexual if …
• You use more than three words when ordering your Starbuck’s,
• You’re still into rollerblading,
• You put on cologne to go to the gym,
• You have an Armani Exchange or Banana Republic credit card,
• You Tivo Sex in the City and/or Will and Grace,
• You watch Friends with a note pad,
• You have panic attacks (look, either have a real heart attack or cut the crap. That feeling you’re feeling is not death; it’s called responsibility and most everybody feels it. So … suck it up, drink a Guinness and get a life),
• You shave any part of your body except your face or skull,
• You buy your shampoo at a salon instead of a grocery store,
• You take more than two, that’s two, minutes to fix your hair,
• You think Ben Affleck, Colin Farrell, and Orlando Bloom are really, really good actors,
• You think you have a feminine side to get in touch with, and/or
• You must have Evian and only Evian for hydration (Hey, thongmeister. What’s Evian spelled backwards? That’s what you are).

Since society has gotten sick of these fad lads and some guys are thinking, What was I thinking? and do not want to mimic what’s inane again, you might be wondering: who, what, and where do we go to in order to set our sights on what to become as men?

Well … you can start by completely blowing off anything postmodernism or its ugly mother modernity has to offer and, as far as I’m concerned, traipse back a few thousand years to medieval times. A good book that lines out what these masculine worthies were is Brad Miner’s The Compleat Gentleman: The Modern Man’s Guide Chivalry. Miner goes back not to the 1950’s but to the 1100’s and unearths the oldest and best ideal of manhood: the gentleman. Resurrecting a thousand-year tradition of chivalry, honor, and heroism, Miner’s tome provides a solid blueprint for the lost Nancy Boys.

The Compleat Gentleman shows in a sharp and scholarly way that real manhood is not rocket science and that being a worthy warrior is based upon the simple, ancient, yet arduous ideal of selfless duty to one’s God, country, family and friends. Miner traces the concept of manliness from the jousting fields of the twelfth century to the decks of the Titanic. Miner states that the major traits of a true gentleman can be reduced to three masculine archetypes, namely, the warrior, the lover, and the monk. These three, combined together, form the compleat gentleman. This modern knight is a combatant for that which is true and beautiful, has passionate respect for the opposite sex and values learning in the pursuit of truth—doing all of the above with discretion, decorum, and nonchalance.

My ClashPoint is this: something will fill the pink vacuum the metrosexual spirit is leaving, and I hope it will be that which history has always exonerated, i.e., the warrior gentleman. Miner’s stellar book, young man, is a good starting point if you want to wash from your system all the residual metrosexual dung with which Hollywood and the television industry has inundated you. So … grab a copy of Miner’s book, throw away your four different hair products, dig into the great truths of yesteryear, plumb the traditional traits of greatness and fly a holy finger at the culture-crippling machinations of metrosexual madness.

WHOOO HOOO! Tell it again, Brother J!!!!

I can't tell you how many guys I've heard cry the blues because they were sensitive to their girlfriends and she dumped 'em for the big oaf.

In my experience women, by and large (there are always exceptions.. some people like Estonias, some like Yamahas), prefer men who are men by nature and don't have to try to be that way or think about it too much.

Doesn't mean you have to scratch your privates or have belching contests. You can and should be a real gentleman (see last three letters of that word). Just don't be more concerned with your wardrobe than what she's wearing.

This is my favorite line:

"You have panic attacks (look, either have a real heart attack or cut the crap. That feeling you’re feeling is not death; it’s called responsibility and most everybody feels it. So … suck it up, drink a Guinness and get a life)"

I laughed so hard I almost dropped my nail file!

Hands off, gals... he's mine!

On the other hand, apparently there were cavemen who were interested in fashion....knew how to accessorize, too!

Tee hee!

I gotta say, though - I really do think there is a happy medium.

The guy who...
is just as comfortable ordering off of the wine list as going to the pub for a pint

doesn't need a primer on how to dress or behave before going to a formal event

would rather take me to a play or the opera than the big game

can fix my computer, but calls a mechanic about the car

goes to the fitness centre to walk the treadmill or take a yoga class instead of the gym to lift weights

uses product (yes, that can even come from the salon) and looks (and smells!) great for work, but doesn't bother shaving on the weekends

happily goes from a wonderful restaurant with an amazing chef one night to beer and wings at the pub the next

cares enough about what I look like to enjoy shopping with me and give an opinion - one that I'll actually listen to

cares enough about what he looks like to realize that there IS a difference between buying a dress shirt at Target and buying one from Christian Dior, but who will also sit around all day on a weekend in his jammies

holds open doors for me, but doesn't mind if I do the same for him

knows that all it takes to get a bit of nookie when I'm busy and stressed is turning off the phone, ordering in, and giving a great massage

wants me to be the instigator at times

can be sweet and sensitive or lustful and animalistic

Is that really so much to ask?

I don't know.. the testosterone driven sensitive guy I married is kind of high maintenance

Well, Apple, darlin'..best git out of the forum and git busy!

Whatever happened to the Aqua Velvet man?

I think he and the Old Spice Sailor fella moved on up to Massachusetts ... that IS where Havelacheckque** played, isn't it?




Bob

** spelling purposefully moidured for added gaiety. :rolleyes:

I am your man!

Whaddaya say? Let's meet on Monday and we can pick out furniture.

I've also seen your video of you playing, NAK, and nothing is more appealing than a guy with talent. Alas, I think in your case I think that there would be a bit of a legal issue surrounding our ages

Then we can move to Kentucky.

(No offence to you Kentucky residents. )