Exiting GuyLand

Posted by He Said

This last week I heard a news story on NPR about this phenomenon where boys CHOOSE not to be men until in their late 20's.  What makes you a man? According to this story and the author of a book called GuyLand, it entails graduating from high school, financial independence, marriage and children.  So that’s what makes you a man?  I can assure you I know several males who meet those requirements and do not qualify as men.  I won't name names unless you make a direct financial contribution to my retirement fund.  This story made me think about this, and I believe I have a new life event to add to this list.

For those of you who don't know, we have a dog who is the reincarnation of Houdini but goes simply by the name Charmin.  Go ahead, search the blog and catch up.  I can wait.

So now that you are all up to speed on the fact that our dog can jump over the moon to explore the neighborhood, I have an update for you. It's getting worse. She now loves to do it anytime she wants whether we are home or not. Please, don't comment that it's a behavioral problem. I GET IT.  To fix this issue I started taking her to a dog training class at Petsmart taught by a great lady by the name of Roxanne Kimball.  I had hoped training my dog to understand that I am the leader of the pack would changer her behavior.  I had hoped she would start to stick around when we leave her in the backyard.

This is not what happened.  In fact it has gotten worse.  Normally she only jumps out when we leave.  Recently she has leapt out when we put her out to take care of business, she hears someone or something outside and over she goes. So it’s official.  Yes, I am a crappy dog parent.

The other morning I swore to start walking her regularly.  You know, because exercise is supposed to make your dog happy and suppress the wanderlust. This of course is traumatic in its own right because Charmin gets very protective of of the family when she is on her leash.  She is great at doggy daycare.  They love her there.  Put her on a lease to take her for a walk and she turns into Cujo growling, snapping and all the while wagging her tail like she WANTS to go play, but the second voice in her head is telling her to kill them…kill them all.

So the first day of our new routine, off we went down the street, headed towards the new home construction area.  It's bustling with early morning construction workers.  Full of buff, hard hatted, tattooed and flannel wearing construction workers. You know what I am talking about.  Man's man kinda guys. The kind of guys who have testicles hanging from the backs of their Mini Monster Trucks and fully loaded gun racks in the windows.  You know men who are native Nevadans.

Then I realized.  Here I am walking my dog with her pink collar and her pink leash. I’m comfortable with my masculinity I can handle it.  Then I realize on my way out I had to grab the last travel mug to bring my morning liquid crack with me.  It's not just any mug.  It's a bright pink coffee mug.

Seriously pink.

I realize I look like a walking breast cancer awareness ribbon.

I won’t lie.  I considered crossing the street.

Let me tell you. Nothing graduates you faster from guy land like walking through a construction crew with all pink accessories.  Ok, except maybe walking through WalMart in a Utilikit, but that’s a story for another day.