Thursday, April 21, 2011

Men Are Better Than Women (At A Few Things, I'm Pretty Sure)


Today I was asked about a new book I had never heard of before, Man Down. The customer, a woman, said it was about how women are better at a lot of things than men. My response: "It's only one volume?" Turns out the book has quite a sub-title: Man Down: Proof Beyond a Reasonable Doubt That Women Are Better Cops, Drivers, Gamblers, Spies, World Leaders, Beer Tasters, Hedge Fund Managers, and Just About Everything Else (check it out here). Turns out too that the book was written by a man, Dan Abrams, which just goes to show you. What, I don't know, but it should show you something. Now I could take some potshots at that sub-title (beer's for drinking, not tasting; just who wants to identify him or herself as either a world leader or a hedge fund manager these days?; drivers?! Mr. Abrams has never driven the streets I drive!) and I suppose I could read the book and review it here (though I'm sure a woman blogger could do a better job), but I've reached that stage in life (post first grade) where I'm really only interested in things I don't already know. Of course women are better at most things; I've been saying it for years, truly.

But.

"Just about everything else"; "most things"; not everything. There are definitely a few skill sets left out there that men excel at and at which they totally out-perform women. So while Mr. Abrams is out there doing the media thing and singing the praises of women, I think it's only fair that a little equal time is given over to the prowess of men right here right now.

Scratching. May seem trivial to you, but just wait a few minutes until you get a really bad itch. Hands down, men scratch--in a utilitarian, not pugilistic sense--way better than women. Growing hair. Yes, as far as I know there's no such thing as female pattern baldness, but knuckles, ears, noses, backs--men can grow some serious hair. I mean, compared to taking someone else's money, lifting a wet finger to the times, and taking an educated guess, i.e. hedge fund managing, growing a nice bushy patch between one's shoulder blades is godlike.

Spitting. That's a given, isn't it? No argument there, right? In keeping with this blog's theme, I'll go a step further and claim that men are much better than women at chewing gum, too. Men work the gum, gnawing on a wad of it; women frenetically chimp chomp a tiny square piece at the back of their mouths and snap it. In terms of chewing gum, men are like DaVinci, women are like etch-a-sketchers. And while we're in the vicinity of the mouth, burping. Spend ten minutes around five 13-year-old boys, and if you come out of it still sane, you'll grant the less fair gender the burping crown, no question.

Artisans of the remote control. I cry tears of pride and wonder when I watch one of my nephews work a TV remote. A woman with a remote in her hand only gives me a nic fit.

Grilling/barbequeing. Yeah, you're going to argue that one?

Getting ready. For anything. Except maybe a fantasy football/baseball draft, but since I despise fantasy sports, that doesn't count.

Killing creepy crawling things. I'm sure she exists, and I'm sure she's good, but you never think of the Orkin Woman, do you?

Carrying on a half-hour conversation using less than a hundred words. Physically impossible for women, nirvana for two good male friends.

Laughing at one's self (just a hunch).

Prelude to 110 or 220/Women of the World--Jim O'Rourke by spitoutyourgumblog

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