Manliness is an Art

I recently stumbled upon a new blog I check in on occasionally. I find it makes me laugh while I am trying to train my own Boy in the ways of manliness, like opening the car door for his me or his sister, or offering me his arm when we walk through the icy snow as we cross the parking lot on the way into church. There is a lot of manliness to be learned. Luckily his dad, Genius Golfer, does much of this already...and we just have to urge The Boy on in pursuit of manly ways.

This manliness question came up with The Girl and one of her friends on the ride home from the New Year's Eve dance. The girls were quite decided that the boys at the dance didn't seem to know HOW to dance, so they didn't dance unless the girls all danced in a group together.

At my suggestion that perhaps the gang of girls was intimidating to any young man wanting to ask them to dance, they reported that the boys were fine to come up and talk to them, but not a single one asked any of the girls to dance.

The New Year's Eve dance was summed up as a bust. So it got me thinking about this little essay I read at my recent discovery The Art of Manliness blog...see for yourself.


The holiday season can make any man feel like a boy again. So this week we thought we’d share a stupendous definition of boyhood that was penned in 1949. It’s a good for refresher for men who want to retain some of their boyish spirit and an excellent reminder for the fathers of sons to cherish their time with their little rascals.

What Is a Boy?
By Alan Beck

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood, we find a delightful creature called a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights and colors, but all boys have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day and to protest with noise (their only weapon) when their last minute is finished and the adult males pack them off to bed at night.

Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket.

When you are busy a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly or else he becomes a savage, sadistic, jungle creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.

A boy is a composite—he has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword swallower, the energy of a pocket-size atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a fire cracker, and when he makes something he has five thumbs on each hand.

He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings and fire engines.

He is not much for Sunday school, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime.

Nobody else is so early to rise or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs and breezes. Nobody else can cram into one pocket-a rusty knife, a half eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty Bull Durham sack, two gum drops, six cents, a sling shot, a chunk of unknown substance and a genuine supersonic code ring with a secret compartment.

A boy is a magical creature—you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can’t get him out of your mind.

Might as well give up—he is your captor, your jailer, your boss and your master–a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing, bundle of noise.

But when you come home at night with only the shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams—he can mend them like new with the two magic words—"Hi Dad!"

Or, "Mom, I love you". Even for all that The Boy is, I love him for it. In fact, I am lucky enough to know and love many boys, and some who seem to be turning the corner to manhood right before my eyes. What is not to love when you see that?!

Wisdom of Anne

In Anne of Green Gables, at least the miniseries that I love and own on three discs on DVD, Anne shares with Miss Stacey her regret about something she perpetrated on Gil or one of her other fellows on Prince Edward Island. Miss Stacey, being the loyal and dutiful mentor she is to young Anne, reminds her that tomorrow is another day. And though very unlike Miss Scarlett of Gone with the Wind fame, Anne muses back to her that "tomorrow is fresh, with no mistakes in it".

Well,my friends, today is like that proverbial tomorrow. Albeit, today is the first of the new year. Therefore, our whole new year lies before us with no mistakes in it.

Of course, if you know anything about me, you know the mistakes will quickly be made, and probably several a day if my course and pattern continue.

For example, last night, Genius Golfer and I met two other couples and a dear single friend (who was wise enough not to bring a date with him, knowing he was dining with the group we have become) whom we had attended our last singles ward with together. Dear Single Friend Gary is delightful in every way. And yet I shot my mouth off and teased him, not just a little, but over the line. It is just that he makes it so easy to do. And he gives it just as good as he takes the teasing, so it is hard to fight such spontaneous thoughts.

So, to begin the new year, I'd like to apologize to Gary for teasing him about the children's menu last night at the Texas Roadhouse where they do not serve creamy cucumber dressing on the house salad and where our server, Josh, was already sweating bullets as he came to take our order for dinner last night.

This will decidedly not be the end to my apologizing, but I do hope I learn to recognize the need for the required apology faster so as to apologize in person, and eventually avoid crossing the line and needing the apology in the first place.

Well, I can hope. New Year's Days ought to be full of optimism.

Marathon Completed

Last night I was privileged to sit in on another ward's Young Women group who were spending two full days of their Christmas vacation together reading the Book of Mormon cover to cover. They had readers scheduled to come in to read aloud for thirty minutes each so the girls could follow along. I read my section at 7:30 last night.

The portion I read was the last chapters of 3rd Nephi, the book of 4th Nephi and the beginning of Mormon. As I read I was struck with the thought that God really does fulfill His promises. He remembers His covenants with His people. I felt the Spirit in that room reaffirming to me this book was true and the lessons in it were for us and our time.

I hope the girls who participated felt that as well. I know that after that much reading your mind can get a little mushy and you start to get a little punchy. And that happened too, but the Spirit was still there and these girls had been soaking in it for two days. That has to have some kind of influence on them.

That book has a power that, if you have read it, you cannot deny.

On Christmas day a pair of Jehovah's Witnesses came to my door again. One of the ladies has stopped by several times and always visits with me about some sense of destruction and the end of the earth, and she seems to be trying to teach that God will be the only solution to these crises.

While I believe God will ultimately have his hand in the final hours of the earth's degeneration, I also know that the Gospel, as I understand it, is the hope that we can look to in order to not be obsessed with that gloom and doom mentality. The Gospel, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, is one of hope and optimism and joy. Sure, troubles come and bad things can happen but the Lord is with His children and He will bless us too.

As this lady and her friend tried to teach me of the earth's destruction, on Christmas day no less, I testified to her that the end was not all to be feared. That Christ is the Redeemer and He has provided a way for us. I read to her the Lord's words to the Nephites the night before his birth in Bethlehem. I told her that this book was my gift to her and that I considered its teaching treasures given to me by a loving Heavenly Father. It was a companion to the prophesies of the Old Testament that she has readily shared with me, and another witness of the teaching given in the New Testament, where Jesus lived and taught and died and was resurrected.

She wouldn't take the copy of the Book of Mormon I offered her. Her explanation was that if she took it, she would not be believing what she already knew. I told her that was right. She would know so much more. I told her that we believe many things that are very similar. We know there is a God who is in control of the world. We know He gave the world prophets in the olden times. And that as a true and living God those prophesies will come to pass. All I was giving her was an extension of understanding to what she already had. She still wouldn't take the copy I offered her.

There is power in this book and she recognized that, in some way. I hope the Young Women in the 6th ward who participated in their Book of Mormon Readathon will recognize that power too and with any luck, that power will sink deep into their hearts and be the foundation of a stronger and deeper testimony of the Savior Jesus Christ and His gospel on the earth today.

Snow Schmow

Genius Golfer took my Durango to work today. He also took The Boy to the Park City Resort for more time on the slopes. This leaves me at home with more laundry and the Honda Hockey Puck for transportation. Sounds like a good day for a movie marathon.

The Girl is headed to a YW activity--they are going ice skating today. But luckily she had a friend who is collecting her and taking her to the meeting point. Thus, I needn't go outside for anything today.

If and when it stopped falling out of the sky I guess I will have to snow blow the driveway and sidewalks but that won't be until this afternoon. So, the forecast is bringing snow? Sure. Bring it on. I have plenty of entertainment to keep me busy today, and almost no responsibilities to make me go out in it.

Cooking Skills and In-Laws

Last night we had a throw together dinner, as the Boy had a Scout Court of Honor--he earned his Star rank last night, by the way. Anyway, Genius Golfer took over the dinner at the half way point. The conversation turned to my not really having many cooking skills, and that I was OK with that. I told The Boy that someday he will marry some darling girl and he will be so impressed with her cooking skills because I "purposely" set the bar so low. Someday she would thank me for being such a mediocre cook. And I continued the story, telling the kids that I didn't have that option. Grandmama is a great cook as is Auntie Lori and Genius Golfer probably expected more from me in that department when we married. It has been almost 18 years of disappointment for him.

The Boy's only comment? "I'm going to get married?! Yeah, that will never happen."

Winter

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


Either way...I'm ready for some spring fever.