True story: I was relating a story about my fun trip with my fun little boat and I got a bitchy comment that burned my biscuits.
Curmudgeon: “Had a great time this weekend. I was sailing the boat I built. It’s small but it works. Lotta’ fun!”
Bitch: “So your midlife crisis is a boat? Cool!”
Great festering balls of Satan… how much more demeaning could seven words get? It’s not like I cured cancer or summited Everest but it’s a legitimate if small accomplishment. I’m not hurting anyone. Just having fun. Why dismiss my happy fun time as some sort of mental failing unique to the Y chromosome set of a certain age?
Fuck that noise!
It’s not midlife; it’s life. It’s not a crisis; it’s fun. It’s as if the only purpose of a man of “midlife” is to work and perhaps be a husband. All else is his inner childishness taking an unwarranted trip to public view before the dumb bastard is chained back at his desk where galley slaves belong.
The worst part is she has no idea what a dick move she’d made. I think she really meant it with “Cool!” and simply can’t imagine I did anything other than have a flaky crisis to attain it. God forbid I was simply self-motivated or even “choose to do what I want to to”. Nope, it’s a crisis. Call in the headshrinkers! We’ve detected a man who’s not yet crushed and hopeless. Society can’t abide such nonsense!
“Midlife crisis” is a cruel blanket dismissal. It could be used to cut down any accomplishment by any man, obtained for whatever reason, provided he’s somewhere between 40 and 60. He’s a simpleton who’s flaking out; be happy he’s not getting hair implants and trying to bang the babysitter. What a goddamn heartless thing to say. Nor would I ever pull a 180 on the woman who said it; “I note that you’ve done something interesting recently. I’m glad you’ve compensated for your fleeting youth and the accompanying malaise.”
I let it slide because I don’t much give a shit about external validation. The only woman who matters is Mrs. Curmudgeon and she doesn’t think I’m crisising in my midlife so all is well. However, I was reminded of the comment when I stumbled across Captain Capitalism’s visual summary:
Right on target. “So your midlife crisis is a boat?” is straight from the meangirls playbook. It was inane in high school and it’s intolerable in adulthood. She had none of the inner heart and joyous give and take you’ll get from some guy busting his pal’s balls.
As usual, Captain Capitalism is on the case. He goes into a discussion of how men giving men shit is of a different sort, an invitation to improve. A hand to pull you up instead of a kick to the knees. Click on over and read it all.
Note: The “meangirl” comment was a one off. It’s not the norm at all.
When I built the diminutive boat I expected to get some shit. It’s friggin’ tiny. I expected maybe some jokes about “Smart Car of the seas” or “if you add miracle grow does it become a sloop?”
Instead, everyone everywhere (in meatspace, on the water, and on this blog) has been pleasantly positive. Even folks with 30′ fiberglass blue water wonders or pontoon craft that can host a wedding party have been super nice. Folks who built craft that are works of art don’t sneer at my novice joinery. “It works for the purpose… not bad at all.” Who knew?
In an age when we can’t discuss politics without turning the other team into a monster, we’re surprising civil to each other when a bearded hick floats by in his jaunty little sailing box. One meangirl aside, it’s been nothing but smiles.
YOU BUILT A BOAT. As far as I’m concerned, that’s right up there with spearing a woolly mammoth. Some people just suck the joy out of life.
Thanks!
I like boats because they’re tested by reality. If it leaks or doesn’t track straight then nature will sink it or lead it off course. All the meetings, group projects, discussion, and likes on Facebook won’t change a thing. Conversely if it floats and functions it’s a successful boat, even if the whole world tells you it sucks.
I wish everyone had the chance to build their own boat.
Meh, says volumes about her actual insecurities and short comings. Doesn’t even have anything to do with you.
Now get over it ya knock kneed, whippleback, pigeon toed, slack jawed, ugly, inbred, pointey headed, knuckledraggin, bucktoothed, bonehead.
Basically “People gotta’ People”. I have enough time living and judging my own life than to superimpose in comments attributions of “midlife angst” on others. Then again, I just come here for relief from the “real world”.
Reply: “Naah! My midlife crisis is bitchy broads like YOU!”
Ha ha ha!
AC:
A) WTF is wrong with some people?
B) It never occurred to me to give you a hard time about your tiny boat. It IS cool.
Thanks. The more I learn to use it, the cooler my boat seems. I’m more impressed with my boat as I put it through its paces. (I’m even “leveling up” some details based on my limited experience… making it “more awesomer”!) I encourage everyone who’s of a mind to build whatever they fancy. That said, I can see that building a boat is one thing and perfect for the novice (depending on design chosen) but designing a boat is an entirely different kettle of fish that takes a lot more skill. I’m glad I could follow someone else’s plan.
Here is my theory …
Men have hobbies, interests and passions in their youth and when they get married, they give up their interests and plough their cash and energies into the marriage, kids and home at the behest of “her indoors” (to use an English expression).
Once they have the kids out of the door (college, work, their own lives) then they have leisure and cash to restart their interests BUT the wife, having benefited from the sacrifice, wants the gravy train to keep rolling. Hence anything that means that she isn’t in charge of the spending and gives the man an interest and outside activity like that is dismissed as “a mid life crisis” or “you are reverting back to a little boy” and other suchlike put downs.
Girls play with dolls houses and dolls when they are children and as soon as they are married, they have a REAL dolls house (the family home) and their own living dolls (husband, children) to dress up and boss around. How many men do you know that are married and actually choose their own clothes?
Women may mature earlier than men but are then stuck with the attitude of a 16 years old and this continues …
So, sod the lot of the kill joys. You built a boat. From scratch and sailed the thing. So what if you don’t want to be the village boat builder. It is an achievement you can be proud of, no matter how humble the craft. As the Marines say about their rifles “This is MY rifle. There are many like it but …”. Same with boats. It is yours, built to make you happy and please you and you alone. When they have done the same, THEN they can criticise, not until.
Mid life crisis? Reply back with “childish and selfish ball buster”. Because that is all it is.
Pah! Here endeth the rant. Have a beer/whisky or other drink of choice and enjoy the mellow.
The most important part is that Mrs. Curmudgeon is totally cool with my hobbies. How lucky I am that the harpy in question is merely an acquaintance who I can readily ignore.
Now to go pour myself some whiskey and mellow out… 🙂
Phil B has some good points.
However: “How many men do you know that are married and actually choose their own clothes”
Seeing the state of my wardrobe now that I am single, I can see that me not choosing my own clothes was not an entirely bad thing.
I’m tracking with you, men do give up hobbies and passions for the family. In my younger days it was golf and SCCA racing. My daughter came along and I let golf go first and then racing.
So if I want to build guns, shoot and reload, I care little what the Negative Nancys have to say. It’s not a crisis, neither am I a gun waving angry white man. I love the challenge of punching small groups in paper and the satisfaction of loading ammo that is more consistent than what comes from a box.
I quit reloading when kids arrived. I couldn’t get enough time to load 50 rounds without an interruption and after every interruption I forgot what I was doing. I just knew I’d double charge something sooner or later so I shelved it for a while. Maybe I’ll get back at it someday.
Yep, Negative Nancys are best ignored.
The boat and the reports about it are are very cool. I have some of my own stories in this regard but not what I wanted to comment about.
It’s about a good wife.
I needed a new tool box to replace the four I have that are 30+ years old and don’t work very well at all anymore. I found a giant one that would probably hold all the tools for a very reasonable price and the wife and I went to get it. The tool box next to the one I wanted was much larger and a bit more expensive. She said “you need this one”.
I love my wife.
I guess I should mention that right before that we just spent 4K on a new bed. (It is really nice.)
I guess that is how things work.
Yep. A good wife does wonders. Life is hard but it’s a lot easier when you’re on a “team”. Enjoy the toolbox.
a good wife is hard to find, sounds like you found yours.
I swore I would never get married until my then girl friend and I were at a party. Somebody commented that its not about sex or how hot the other is (not that that hurts) but could one clean the others ass when the other was 80 and incontinent. Without missing a beat my then future wife said “That’s what the backyard tree and garden hoses are for.”
Of for Fuck Sake! What is wrong with people today? These asshats that have nothing better to do than pass backhanded compliments are part of whats wrong with this country.
If you want, send her out here to La-la land, she can take my wifes yoga class (before you laugh too hard, at 47 she made Justin Bieber puke) After the wife gets done turning her into a whimpering pretzel she can come help her restore the vintage trailer she bought. Other than upgrading the electrical to solar power which I will do and the new paint job which will be farmed out she is doing all the work herself. The only thing that gives me pause is that daisies she wants to have painted on the side…. What the hell, its all her money going into it, if she wants daisies I guess she can have daisies.
Any woman who can restore a vintage trailer can paint whatever she wants on the thing she restored. 🙂 BTW: I love restored vintage trailers! Canned hams are super cool. Probably some of my readers like ’em too. Good luck with it and (if you wish) send occasional comments about your trailer progress. (No problem if you’d rather not.)
I’ll keep ya posted. BTW its an 84(?) Scamp.
Somewhere she has an instagram or some such something for it. I stay away from all that.