To play off of one of Skip’s phrases: “The bigger the feminist, the smaller the man.” Smaller the man indeed.
Lots of things oozed from the late 20th century liberals into this century, and many are mistakenly celebrated. Some haven’t really undulated throughout society filling in all of the seams. They’re still settling as all of those affected aren’t quite aware of the same rules.
For example: Imagine you’re a late 20th Century feminist liberal all keen on burning bras and inhibitions, bringing home the bacon, frying it up in the pan and never ever letting him think he’s a man because you’re the woman. So, you pluck the jewels, tuck them into your purse, and be on your way. You’re in charge. He’s an accessory you can live without.
And you learned to handle life, even if it does get rough. You’ve acquired enough hair in several dwellings that’s thick enough to weave an Indian blanket to keep warm on cold nights (and there are plenty of those), or braid into a rope to strangle a bear or cripple anyone who’s barely afflicted with even the most diminished of olfactory senses. You’ll be safe. You can handle it.
That may be fine for you, it just may not be fine for your son, adopted or otherwise.
Fast forward to today. A lovely couple decides to spend the day watching America’s pastime, having a few tofu dogs and a caffeine free, sugar free, taste free, green grass smoothy. When suddenly, the ball just cracked off of a streaking Louisville Slugger is ripping towards the couple when the male, your son, (and I won’t use the term man or gentleman, male will do) spots it and seeks refuge. He leaps out of the way of the screaming cowhide and abandons his date as the ball *SMACKS* right into her face.
And it’s on tape. Ouch! Take a look and think: chivalry?
[h/t The Daily Caller]
Now, I’m not necessarily saying that this males’ mother is a liberal feminists and he was raised with all of her priorities revolving around her misguided sense of self, but I am saying it’s a very strong possibility.
But the point of the post isn’t to address the Femi Lib or her son. The point is that young women really need to understand the ability of their date to be manly. And by manly, I mean chivalrous.
There’s nothing wrong when a man holds the door open for woman, picks up the check, or pulls out the chair for her when she sits down (and not in the Three Stooges way). There are a lot of pansified males who came into the world thudguarded and cossetted and grew up being taught that the behaviors just mentioned are wrong. They’re not. The male that has the sense of chivalry and virtuousness siphoned from his soul from endless leftist bleating is doomed to forever leap from a speeding ball and anything else he determines inconvenient.
It’s the girl’s responsibility to know the type of male they’re on a date with, just for her own safety. If he’s going to lurch away from a ball, think what’ll happen if she find herself in a truly unsafe scenario. Queue the road-runner “beep-beep pingggg” ringtone. Yep, he’s outta there.
Know your date. Pick a gentleman and not simply a male. And if you marry and have a boy, toss him a ball or two huh?
