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:
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.