Touchy about feel-ly

Most of the experts and all of the wives tell us that generally men are not nearly as communicative as women are. They don't express what they're feeling, and that tends to shut out their friends and loved ones. These people need to know what we're feeling so they can share our good times and help us through the bad. Now, I know their intentions are good, and it would be very nice to have that kind of relationship, but it might be impossible. I don't express my feelings because I don't know what I'm feeling. I don't even know what I'm thinking, and I very rarely know what I'm doing. I often say things just to see how they sound. And there's nothing worse than being forced into defending a position you don't even hold. So the best solution for us is to keep our mouths shut. We may not be communicative to our loved ones, but we include ourselves in that group. Don't worry, it's not a serious problem. Whatever we're feeling is pretty much on the surface. It doesn't need to be said. You don't have to dig deep with us. In most cases, surface strip mining will reveal the whole lode.

Spreading the wealth

I think nature is pretty smart. For example, the way she spreads out the peaks in a man's life. We reach the height of our sexual prowess in our late teens, our top athletic form in our late 20s, the zenith of our business initiatives in our mid-40s, the maximum benefit from our experience in our early 60s, and the apex of our wisdom in our late 70s. It's like a well-planned garden: There's always something blooming. Think how much worse it would be if instead it all came together at the age of say, 85. Imagine being an experienced, savvy, athletic, wise octogenarian at the height of your sexual prowess and having an embarrassment of riches and not nearly enough time to spend them. Not to mention the difficulty you'd have getting a date. Like I said, nature is pretty smart.

Waiting for the guff

In my life I've taken a fair bit of guff from my siblings and my friends and neighbors and my bosses and especially from my wife. But I'm not complaining. We all need guff. And to prove it, here's a list of bad things that would happen to you if you weren't taking guff from people who care:

• You'd be wearing those orange pants you bought at the thrift shop.
• You'd be riding a moped.
• You'd have a mullet haircut.
• You'd do karaoke.
• You'd have a Zamboni in your driveway.
• You'd be in the backyard without a shirt on.
• You'd run for political office.

To show our support for a concert by our local men's glee club, my wife had bought front-row tickets, which were neither expensive nor rare. As I sat there looking up at this group of middle-aged men doing five- and six-part harmony, some of it on purpose, it came to my attention that we need some improvement in the area of trouser design. Most of these men on stage had waistbands that were rolling over from the burden of a 50-year-old stomach. These are not the bodies of young men. They can't be clothed with the pants of young men. A young man's stomach is flat like a farmer's field and can be contained with a waistband. It's like a fence. A middle-aged man's stomach is round and curling like the waves on the ocean. A fence is not going to do it. He needs a retaining wall with a weave that's light and flexible and strong enough to do the job. If there are any men's pant designers out there, I'm just going to say one word -- titanium.

Quote of the day

"When things go badly I feel cheated, and when they go well I feel unworthy. I love it best when nothing happens." -- Red Green