In the book, Dune, by Frank Herbert, there is a dialogue between the Reverend Mother Gaius and Paul Atreides , a.k.a. Paul Muad'Dib. Let’s listen in on their conversation.
Rev. Mother Gaius: There is a place...terrifying to us, to women. It is said a man will come - the Kwisatz Haderach. He will go where we cannot. Many men have tried. Paul: They tried and failed?
Rev Mother Gaius: They tried and died.
Let’s turn the tables and listen on a conversation between Michael Nunan and myself.
Rev. Scott Peterson: There is a place, terrifying to us, to men. It is said a woman will come, the Amy Grant. She will go where we cannot, Michael’s Crafts. Many men have tried. Nunan: They tried and failed?
Rev. Scott Peterson: They tried and died.
Dan Ferguson and I share in our believe that Hell will be Michael’s Crafts with Amy Grant playing on the speaker system. It is a vision that haunts and chills us to our inner core. Walking around inside a craft or a fabric store is so foreign to a man, that our capacity to think, walk, utter sounds and swallow our own saliva all become severely affected. We can’t go in them. When I’m forced to go, the she-workers instantly recognize a testosterone-affected human has had a stroke and they come running to my aid. I hate craft and fabric stores. I cannot enter them. And the thought of Amy Grant playing in the background sends me into the fetal position.
So imagine my horror today, when I was sucker-punched inside Home Depot, the Temple of Testosterone. I was covered in MDF dust and was purchasing a light and some 3” PVC pipe when suddenly, over the speaker system, Amy Grant was singing, “Baby Baby.” Arrrrrrrgh!
You ladies just don’t get it. This is a man store. It smells like lumber and oil. Walk down any aisle and you'll run into a fresh fart. We can go in there looking like we’ve been in a war and no one cares. We can wear shorts with holes in the butt. We can wear unmatching socks. We can smell like raccoon feces. No one cares. We barely tolerate your flowers and storage tubs. But Amy Grant, in our store? Are you kidding me?
Why is this so offensive to us? Picture this. It’s like a female sales associate walks up to me and says, “Hello sir. Try on these panties. They’re your color. By the way, what season are you? I bet you’re a Spring. And here’s some ginger infused soap. Would you like a facial?”
That doesn’t happen in Home Depot! Someone was obviously asleep at the wheel. I don’t feel safe going in there, again. If they can do that in there, what next, pilates class? Bran muffin samples? Chai tea? I broke the Guy Code once so I can forgive them once. Click on this link to find out how.
If I ever hear Amy Grant again at Home Depot, I’m going to Lowes.
1 comments:
As an aspiring feminist and someone who likes to read his own writing, I felt the need to chime in on this blog. Let me break this article down on two levels - 1) The idea of masculinity and femininity as binary truths and 2) the validity of Home Depot as a Temple of Dongs.
First off, let me say that by contemporary definitions of masculine and feminine, my wife and I defy standard categorization. While I suffer from dishpan hands, she can swing a mean mallet. That said, I like football, hate the movie The Notebook, and think that my high cholesterol only makes me sexier while she enjoys getting her makeup just right, lemon drop martinis, and thinks pumping gas is something she shouldn't have to do if I am within reach. I believe that there are physical differences between men and women (Jamie Lee Curtis notwithstanding) but the idea of gender roles is a fallacious concept perpetuated by backward thinkers (i.e. Republicans). This is a discussion of nature vs. nurture and I would suggest that a patriarchal society feels the need to marginalize women in order to maintain a false sense of superiority.
As for the second issue, let's assume that there are places that should be reserved only for men: country clubs, church offices, gay bars, etc. Does Home Depot really fit this category? I think that a real man would know you get your wood from a lumber yard, your nails from the local blacksmith, and your ceiling fans from - CEILING FANS? What kind of pansy gets a ceiling fan? If a man gets hot, he sweats. If that ain't enough to cool him down, good, because he must be working too hard to cool down and therefore he's even more of a real man than I figured him to be when I first started this run on sentence. Look, Home Depot is built on the notion of a one stop shop for all your home improvement needs. This is not manly. Men will travel to the ends of the Earth for the sake of the hunt. To get everything you need in nice little compartmentalized sections of a big store...well that's for sissies.
By the way, I'm a winter.
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