Buckshot Gumbo in New Orleans

Po Boy Views
By
Phil LaMancusa
Buckshot Gumbo
Or
Women's Work
What is wrong with the world today? Women. And what is wrong with women today? Men.
Men. Such is the root of all evil; not money -- remember? -- money is good, men are bad. Well, not inherently bad bad. Untrained bad you might say and you’d probably be correct; the best men around had to be trained in manners and behavior beeecaaaauuuusssse… men are, left to their own devices and instincts, dumb as toads in a box of rocks. There, I’ve said it and I know beecaaauuusssse… I are one. And let me tell you right off, a whole bunch of princesses had to kiss me before I turned into anything remotely prince-like and in the interim I’ve gotten bruised by many of the rocks in that box. I’m still not a finished product…yet. As if any one of us is.
Okay, we’re not going to turn this into a rant about man’s inhumanity towards women or about the fact that because of the way men treat women worldwide there happens to be millions of women and girls that are simply missing from the planet; you’re smart, you read.
This be about America and our society and how although there are a few women that know what a good man they’ve got, there are many more that don’t seem to know what a schmuck that they are stuck with. With their consent, they let themselves be saddled (literally) with a guy that has no fashion sense, cannot budget money or keep a job, doesn’t help around the house and fails to live up to commitments and promises. AND they don’t take the time to train them, not even for the sake of the next woman that will have to put up with the brute!
Shall we start with the All-American tradition of blaming the whole situation on the older generation? Let’s… it’s their fault! The whole quandary, the morass, the dilemma, conundrum, confusion and gaffe is all their fault!
Let me tell you a story. A long, long time ago there was a great evil in the world and the forces of good sent their brightest and their best young citizens out to fight this great evil. Many fought and many died and yet they persevered and they won, making the world safe for generations to come (me and you).
When they returned, triumphant, they were given a hero's reception and lived lives both fruitful and prosperous. They Fathered a large generation called Boomers and not only did they expect them to excel in life... they expected brightness. They expected frigging brilliance!
Objectively speaking, the next generation did not live up to those expectations. In fact, the next generation either rejected the call to brilliance or ignored it or simply did not comprehend that system of values. Orrrrrr…. they were smoking some funny stuff and protesting a war that they thought was stupid and could not be won. Needless to say, the Boomers had no way of knowing how to learn about manhood from their older generation whose formative years were spent killing the enemies of freedom. Are you with me so far?
Well, then we have the babies of Boomers who took over the country and what exactly is their legacy and their talents? Let’s see, their parents pretty much settled into a life of mediocrity compounded by a combative attitude that comes from not having a leg to stand on when debating anything requiring logic or common sense. The Boomer’s babies have guilt but no shame, pride without dignity, drive with no passion and are everything that their predecessors were not. Needless to say, they have not won any wars (or popularity contests) either. The only thing that they have going for them is greed and inconsideration at the cost of a planetary meltdown. These may very well be your parents. With that legacy, how the hell could they produce good boyfriends for you?
Okay, I made all of that up. That slug of a lump sleeping off last night’s drunk on the couch or out for a run while you try to find a babysitter (when he should be looking for work) is a figment of your imagination.
It’s true that most of the good men are taken (usually in marriage) by women smarter than you. You can change yours just by the fact that you fell in love with the Prince that you thought he could be. That’s better known as fat chance. The only thing that your man wants is to be taken care of and at the same time he wonders why you are not more like him; after all, he’ll say: “what’s wrong with me?”
What’s wrong with him is you. You make a big deal out of everything. You’re constantly ragging. You never want to have any fun or hang out with his friends and watch the game. All you do is shop for clothes and yak with your girlfriends or go places with those gay guys that you’re buddy-buddy with. Sheesh!
You want to drag him to chick flicks, you read books about stud vampires and you drink so damn slow your beer is warm before you finish it. You don’t want his pal to move in when his girlfriend kicks him out, you hog the bathroom and bitch at him if he forgets once in a while to put the seat down. He doesn’t want to take his boxers off the doorknob because he might want to wear them again and what’s the big deal about dishes in the sink, the ring around the tub or leaving his ball cap on when he eats in a restaurant. I mean, you weren’t complaining when you had him in the sack last night.
Sure, he likes to stop for a couple of drinks after work and yeah, so your birthday slipped his mind (just for a day or so) and why do you expect him to remember when the trash is supposed to go out? Housework? What housework, the place looks fine to him! And, no he does not hit on all of your girlfriends and whoever told you that he slept with your best friend is a liar!
Sheesh, you know what’s wrong with the world today? Women!