Gender Studies

Last week I read a headline in the Tulsa World that stated that Chinese dictator Xi Jinping stated he would (and I quote) "like to see Chinese role models for young men be more manly and less limp wristed" end quote. I never pictured myself agreeing with a foreign dictator, yet here we are. Gender bending as I see it is a thing right now, because let's be honest it's cool and in style. After this madness falls out of favor it will be something else. It has become a way to get attention be that positive or negative and to some of these young people there is little distinction between the two, meaning they don't care which.

These days you don't have to know how to act, sing, or even tap dance to become famous, or for that matter infamous. All you need to do is make a sex tape and make sure it gets leaked. Don't believe me, just ask Pam Anderson. Kim Kardashian has essentially no marketable skills that I can see, yet everyone seems to know who she is. I often wonder if she has her butt insured. My granny on my mom's side of the family was tough as an old boot, in fact most of the toughest men I have ever known have been women. I had a great aunt that lived in Waldron Kansas that would go out behind the barn to take a pinch of snuff and taught her Chihuahua to sit in the floorboard of her Buick and run her dimmer switch. While aunt Hazel and grandma defied the odds of women, I never questioned their gender. You might ask why. I'm glad you did; it's because gender has nothing to do with ability, humility, or self-worth. I should also add that granny was the one who taught me that valuable life lesson.

Nothing can up the ante between the generations like the younger ones who have been given too much free time to consider their own destiny. My generation didn't have time for such nonsense; we were too busy swilling Tang and getting our fingers blown off by M-80's. Our parents and grandparents essentially let us take part in the most dangerous activities known to man so the idiots among us got weeded out like a cruel southern version of natural selection. The Greatest Generation never considered their genders because they were too busy trying to eek a living out of the dried-up soil of the dust bowl and saving Europe from an evil dictator. This is to say their plates were full.

A generation can find itself in a lot of trouble if they spend too much time asking the question why. That is essentially because most questions that start with the question why essentially have no answer and is quickly followed up by another question that starts with why. Whatever flavor Kool Aide generation Z is drinking I am cordially inviting them to keep it away from me as I am certain it is tainted. I have little interest in any thought process that would make a generation go this far off the rails. The younger crowd may see my ilk as crotchety, but I enjoy my destain for the morally bankrupt. It's one of few things I own outright. Now I understand why grandpa was always (and perpetually) pissed off at the world.

Never have I seen a generation so confused about their gender. Let me see if I can explain this on the simplest terms possible. If you look south of the equator and you have male plumbing you are a man, some call that a hang-me-down. If you have female plumbing (or what my stepsister referred to as a who-who), you are a woman. Is there anything remotely confusing about that? No amount of lipstick you put on a pig will keep it from being a pig. No genetic man has ever given birth, girls cannot write their names in the snow, and roosters don't attempt to lay eggs. This just means we should all know our place in the world. The truth is this generation has been afforded far too much free time to consider their own state of being. Thinking can be a good thing, but it can also land you in a heap of trouble if you let the process get away from you like a train track rubbed down with axel grease.

Over the past year or so I have been seeing things that make me scratch my Okie head. Recently in Italy and in France there have been male runway models sporting a fake baby bump. Now... just exactly WHAT is that all about? You shouldn't just shrug that question off, it requires some real thought. These bulbous brains the good Lord has blessed us with may not be fully serving their God-given purpose. Less than three miles from my house there is a Target store that has a "gender neutral" restroom. What does that mean? Is it just for people who cannot decide if they are AM or FM or are all bets off and will they just let anyone use it? It perplexed me to the point where I was so confused I just held it until I got home. Nobody wants to do the pee pee dance in public anyway. Good thing the store is close to home.

Sometimes the terms these people use to describe themselves is even more confusing than their conditions. They will often be referred to on your local NPR affiliate as LGTBQ plus, I lovingly refer to them as the letter people. Every few months or so they add another letter to the terms; nobody knows what they stand for and once more we are not allowed to ask. I feel especially sorry for those that cannot make up their minds if they are attracted to men or women, so it seems that nothing is off the table. Wouldn't that be, well let's refer to it as erotically exhausting. I am just relieved that aging has taken me to a place where a root beer, a cheeseburger, and a nap have become as appealing to me as any possible nocturnal activities that could be on the horizon. I recently told my wife "I had a whale of a nap today, so I should be good until about ten PM."

Night before last I was at the local Wal-Mart and the kid who helped me in the gun department (of all places) was wearing blue eye shadow, earrings, what appeared to be a rhinestone women's shirt which by default had become a crop top because it was far too small for him. He looked like a tight end for the NFL who was trying to squeeze into a tutu. The good news was his five 'o'clock shadow was in full bloom, and it was meticulously trimmed like George Michael's. It was fairly ridiculous but somehow, I was able to hold my laughter until I made it to the parking lot at which time tears filled my eyes, and I held my stomach.

We all see these things and we have been asked in the name of (live and let live) by the PC crowd not to say anything about it. Is this what we have been reduced to? Have we gone from advance space studies, the theory of relativity, and the study of DNA to being asked by our sons, "dad does this purse match my shoes?" The bad news is I have seen the pale horse of the apocalypse round the corner; the good news is the rider isn't wearing a dress.