Knuckle-dragging isn’t so bad

Being a guy in modern times is an exercise in frustration. Thank God I'm already married and don't have to play the dating game. I also am thankful he made me the sort to never really care what is "cool" and do my own thing.

Women did the big push for "sensitive men" in the '80s, but I always figured that after a few too many dates with men crying about their ex-girlfriends or wanting to cuddle while watching "Steel Magnolias" instead of going out for pizza, women would have second thoughts.

Maybe having a scratching, grunting, knuckle-dragging man around wasn't so bad. My wife, Glenny, says that women are often initially attracted to the softies, but eventually they get dumped and it's the burly "manly man" (her words) who gets the girl in the end. It's also her belief that finding real men is getting harder and harder and she feels that men are beginning to behave more and more like women. She insists that "Shrek" is the "movie of us" and fondly calls me "her ogre." This got me to looking around and I began to notice a few things.

The telephone

Real men don't like to talk on the phone. I love my dad and my grandfather dearly, but when I call, I've already got whatever it is I want to ask in mind before I dial. There is always a reason for calling. I got a call once from a friend who said he called "just because we haven't talked in a while." Now this was a good friend of mine, so I stared at the phone for a second before hanging up.

Regarding those hands-free things that clip to your ear - beyond the question as to why you must be that accessible or wanting to talk on the phone so much that you need that - you just look ridiculous, especially when you're walking around the store yakking to yourself. You look like the crazy people wandering around on 4th Avenue muttering to themselves. I had a guy blabbing into one in a store while making eye contact with me once. When I said, "Excuse me?" he looked at me like I was stupid while frantically pointing to the side of his head. A thousand pardons, Uhura. I didn't realize you were monitoring an urgent transmission from Starfleet.

Bathroom etiquette

Shortly before Glenny and I began dating, we were hanging out at a restaurant/bar with two friends of mine. She and I were joking, laughing - all the things two people do when they're flirting. But when I excused myself to go to the bathroom, I was shocked when both my buddies said they had to go, too. So we three headed for the bathroom, leaving Glenny alone at the table. As soon as we were in the bathroom they started in with the "man, she is really into you" stuff. But I wasn't listening.

Instead, I whipped around and said, "Really, guys? You came to the bathroom with me? Is this the part where we hold hands while standing at the urinals together, giggling and talking while we pee? I seriously cannot believe you followed me to the bathroom."

Now if you're a woman reading that, you're probably thinking, "What's the big deal? Women go to the bathroom together all the time." Exactly. Women do. Men do not "go to the bathroom together." We go in turns, and there is no talking. Men's room etiquette commands that you find a spot on the wall directly ahead of you, at eye level, and stare at it while going about your business. You don't glance left. You don't glance right. You don't glance down. You silently stare at the wall. Period.

And, if you happen upon a bathroom with two or more urinals, you take one on either side - never in the middle. This is essential so that if or when another man enters the bathroom, he can take the urinal as far away from you as possible and not next to you. Under no circumstances do you ever use a urinal directly next to another man if there are others available that are farther away. Taboo.

Attire

I have all kinds of shirts: T-shirts, long-sleeves, dress shirts, casual shirts. I have all kinds of pants, too. I wear them in various combinations depending on the weather, the occasion or what was on top of the stack that morning. Sometimes, if I have to, I will "dress up" in slacks and a tie. But I never, ever wear "an outfit."

Men do not own or wear "outfits." Please do not bring home something from the store and say, "I bought you an outfit." Women wear "outfits." Little children wear "outfits." I do not wear "outfits."

Also, "accessorize" is something we do to our all-terrain vehicles or trucks. We accessorize our machines with snorkels, winches, gun cases and the like. If the nice salesperson says, "I have these matching (whatever) to accessorize that shirt," I will simply drop the shirt, look at him or her for a second, turn and walk away. Obviously, I'm in the wrong store.

Television

Reality television is about hunting, football, baseball, stock-car racing or the news. Those things are real. Therefore, it's "reality" television. Men don't care about "Dancing With People Who Are Famous But We Don't Know Who They Are, Or Care" or "American Crappy Singer" and frankly, we would pay good money to be able to install a filter on the TV that would eliminate any images or statements that include the word "Kardashian."

Want us to watch these types of shows? Change it to "Naked Ice Hockey with the Stars" or allow the audience of "American Idol" to pick who loses by pulling a big lever that drops the singer through a trap door on the floor.

So call me names, say I'm out-dated, but refusing to embrace this new "metro" culture and start getting my eyebrows waxed, pedicures, manicures and clapping my hands in glee over the new "Twilight" movie (yes, I have known guys to do all of these things) helped me snare an amazing wife. So, for those guys who still think Prince Charming gets the girl, go ahead; make that hair pretty. Lather on that glitter lipgloss. You're helping the smelly ogres out with every matching outfit, flawless hairdo and perfect fingernails.

Ben Compton is a Palmer resident and publishes his column under the tagline "Compton's Corner," the same title used by his grandmother, Phyllis Compton, a longtime Frontiersman columnist.