Tuesday, April 24, 2007


Who doesn’t hate spam? It’s annoying, bothersome, and a PITA. But I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s also very sexist. If I were a man, I’d be pretty darn pissed.

Ninety percent of the spam in my mailbox involves “enhancing” the male-specific appendage. (What I truly love is the implication inherent in those emails that a larger appendage will have women lined up to sleep with the man. Yeah, that’s what’s keeping your love life sub-par, buddy. How is the average woman supposed to know your love muscle is now so much bigger than Joe-Next-Door? Are you going to whip it out in the bar and show it to her? What, we’ll just look at you across a crowded room and the unbridled hugeness of your silken sword will just draw us to you? “Hey, baby, you’ll never guess how big I am” has always been a fabulous pick-up line. Women just love that.) If I’m really lucky, the email will have pictures in it showing me the results of the powerful enhancing cream/pill.

The other ten percent wants to sell me drugs without a prescription, offers me a better rate on my mortgage, wants to introduce me to the weight loss wonders of hoodia, or offers the lowest prices on the newest software and hottest stocks. Hmmm, not one email about enhancing MY assets. Nothing about improving MY performance. No miracle drug promising to turn me into a sex goddess who will have him begging for more. (Remember the “all natural” product for women designed to enhance libido and increase pleasure? No? Don’t feel bad…I think it was only around for a couple of months. The only reason I remember it is because a friend of mine tried it and broke out in hives.)

If my spam folder is to be believed, the one thing bothering men more than anything else is the size and performance of their manhood. Yet folks claim women obsess over their bodies. Hey, at least we vary our obsessions instead of focusing on ONE thing at the expense of everything else.
So I have to wonder, is this really something men obsess over? Are they THAT worried about it? I can’t really picture men sitting around over poker and cigars discussing the new patch that increased girth by 20%. Or sharing the fear that their women just aren’t satisfied because of their size. Are they swapping “enhancement” pill recommendations like I swap Weight Watchers recipes?

It seems rather unfair to the gender as a whole to imply their entire identity and masculinity is tied to seven inches of their bodies (but try this new product and that could increase to nine or ten!).

Men are different, bless their hearts. I don’t understand the attraction of pornography. I don’t see the excitement of things going “BOOM.” The gas grill is just another appliance for the cooking of food—not an extension or representation of masculinity. I see no need to replace something just because a bigger, badder, louder, more powerful version has been released. I will never understand the need to preserve dead animals or have the delusion that hanging a dead animal on the wall counts as interior decoration.

But I refuse to believe that the entire male population is so shallow as to think all women want in a relationship is the biggest possible package. Real life isn’t a porn film.

Folks may want to denigrate Romance or Women’s Fiction for a multitude of possible sins, but at least it doesn’t portray men in the unflattering light spammers and TV commercials do. Personally, I like my heroes “larger than life” in other ways. I like to think men have a bit more depth to them. To play off Angel’s post from yesterday, I’d like to think they’re motivated by something more.

Maybe I’m wrong. But I don’t want to be. Thank goodness for the gmail spam filter than catches most of the crap before it hits my inbox and makes me despair over of the state of man as a whole.

So no male-bashing allowed today. Spammers are taking care of that Instead, tell me your favorite (and non-sexual) thing about men (or your man in particular). Me? I like it when DG does little things like open car doors or help me with my coat. I’m perfectly capable and liberated and all that jazz, but there’s something very nice about having someone help you in little ways for no reason and without being asked. Makes me feel all girly, you know.

*You may have noticed I’ve avoided the “p-word” throughout this entry. Not that there’s anything wrong with the word, it’s just I’m afraid that word in proximity to the word “enhancement” will bring every Blog Troll in cyberspace to the comment tail.



Smarty Pants said...

I once got an email where the subject line was : Ultimate and Supreme Power. I clicked on it to see what magic wonders these spammers held and it was just another enhancement ad. Ultimate and supreme power? Because of a big 'thang?' Please. Does that mean I can never have ultimate and supreme power because I am thangless? Or is DB's thang necessary to assist me in my glorious uprising?

Anyway...DB is good at the little things. He always opens the door for me when we go in places. He'll open the car door for me if I wait and let him. He goes out of his way to buy me practical gifts with a twist - like a maglite flashlight to keep in my gar, but its purple, cause that's my favorite color. If I'm sick he tries very hard to be a good nurse. And he isn't above being completely silly to cheer me up. All important stuff that no one ever lists in a personal ad or a spam email - Enhance your ability to make your wife laugh! Need more of those...

Jen said...

One of the things I love about the DH the most is also the thing that drives me crazy. He's got a big heart. A woman and her kids have a flat tire? He's the guy that stops to change it. A friend needs a ride somewhere late at night? He's the one taking them. What's to make me crazy about that, you ask. He's always doing for others to the extent that nothing is ever done at home. (And that's not bashing, just the other side of the coin.) My other favorite thing about him is he takes out the garbage every morning. Don't get me wrong, he won't go looking for it. But if I leave the garbage can sitting out from under the kitchen sink, he takes it on his way out. ;-)

Maven LJ said...

Too funny.

Lately I get more of those letters that begin, "Dear Sir or Madam. This may come as a surprise, as you do not know me, but I have a gazillion dollars and I want to share it with YOU."

Favorite Dh things -- Coming home from a meeting or a signing wiped out and finding gumbo on the stove. I once admired a bracelet in an ad, and a few days later he tells me I have a package on the table. It's that bracelet. It's not my birthday, no anniversary anywhere near, but I ooohhed (and I rarely ooh) so he took the ad to the store and bought it.

Those are rare occasions, so I remember them very well. He's not a door opener. I suppose if I refused to budge unless he opened my door he might. Then again, he might just let me sit in the car. :-)


Instigator said...

DH isn't a door opener either - but that may be entirely due to the fact that I don't wait long enough for him to get around to it. Patience, not my virtue.

What he is is a wonderful father and thoughtful husband. He spends more time with our girls than most husbands I know (he does it for them, for me and just because he enjoys it). He never tells them they can't do something. If they want to help him feed the chickens or plant strawberries he lets them even if it adds hours to his day.

He cooks, he cleans. He's almost perfect :-) Don't get me wrong, there are issues. But then I have my own which I like to forget so I conveniently ignore his. :-)


Angel said...

Lately I get a lot of "You've inherited" ads and job offers.

My hubby is always willing to keep our children, whether for a meeting, appointment, or just a girls' night out. It would have to conflict with something really big (in which case I probably wouldn't ask) for him to say no.

He also goes out of his way to cheer me up. He's the light side of my dark personality. :) He knows just what to do to bring me out of a funk, and can bring a smile to me in the most sad circumstances.

I'll never forget the two times I had to have D&Cs after miscarrying two pregnancies. Not just because it was a difficult time, but because he sat by my side the whole time we waited. Talking about nothing, teasing me, playing with the equipment. Anything to make me smile and lighten the heaviness.

Now that's ultimate and supreme power! :)

Problem Child said...

I want ultimate and supreme power! I promise to use it for good and not evil.

Playground Monitor said...

::sigh:: Y'all must have given those spammers my email address too.

I love it when my husband makes me something to eat. Or makes reservations!

And he's completely understanding about "RWA Day" and the luncheon (which falls on our 34th wedding anniversary this year) and the national conference and the retreat. And he's not even grumbled too much about the Christmas party that will be at our house this year (don't expect china and silver -- it's fancy paper plates and Dixie cups here) except to say he'll be doing a disappearing act that day.

Wanna know what's really lighting up my face these days? Watching #1 son being such a great husband and father. It makes me so glad I didn't sell him to the gypsies when he drew on the wall with Wite-Out.


Smarty Pants said...

I'm sorry, PC, but you cannot have Ultimate and Supreme Power. You have no thang.

Rhonda said...

I, too, am sick of spam. I was getting so much through my site, I basically dumped the email and set up another account.

As for DH, I gotta say, he's just a wonderful father and good man. Don't get my wrong--he's got his faults, but at the end of the day I am so very thankful for him. He's very droll, very dry, but every once in a while he'll come through with a zinger that makes me howl. Yesterday he was off from regular worked, but found a side-job and was gone all day. 10:30 last night he was pressure washing the deck. (While I was trying to work, but...:-)

I have no doubt that were I to kick the bucket early, casseroles from all the single women at our church would be here in a flash. :-)

Smarty Pants said...

That's a dating tip I've never heard - casserole stalking widowers at church... at that means you gotta winner, Rhonda! :)