I rarely work with those two co-workers that out-age me, so I spend most of my days babysitting the young'uns. They provide plenty of entertainment for me, to be honest. I spend a large part of my day laughing at these kids showing up in the nicest duds, and scared out of their minds of getting dirty.
For my pay I operate a digging machine. A trenching machine, to be more specific (no, not a backhoe - I get asked that a lot). Here's a picture to give you a better idea (I've posted this pic before).
And yes, that is me on the machine offloading it from my big rig.
If the machine breaks down, we fix it on the job, and I have no problem getting up to my elbows in oil or grease. The kids? They usually put on latex gloves and trash bags over their clothing.
During the normal workday the kids do things like wear gloves so that their hands stay smooth (no calluses for those young hands), and if a dust cloud is thrown into the air by my machine tossing dirt from its conveyor belt, they are standing in a spot farthest from. If their heads aren't shaved, their hair is combed just right when they show up as if they are ready to go out on a date. All of them have smoothly shaved faces, plucked (and reshaped/shortened) eyebrows, shaved arms and legs, wear more than enough sun block (and lotion for smooth skin after the day is done), various arrays of jewelry in their ears, eyebrows, noses, lips and tongues, and spend more time looking in the mirror or yapping on their cell phones (what up! is the usual greeting) rather than having any conversation in the work truck on the way home (if I'm not driving the rig) with their operator (meaning me).
Now, don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with exceptional hygene and wishing to be presentable to the ladies. But at work in the dirt? And these kids attitudes along with the looks, the cars, and so forth, borders on narcissism.
Then, here's the kicker, because I am older I grow a little more hair on my body than they do. I have a goatee beard, and my face the majority of the time (where there isn't a beard) has a five o'clock shadow. The hair on my arms is thicker than theirs (for the few that don't shave their arms, anyway), and I have some hair on my chest and a lot on my legs.
I did not provide this description to gross anybody out. I am just explaining my point.
Anyway, the young kids, the ones that almost look feminine with their grooming practices, made me wonder about today's generation.
Then, they have decided that my lack of concern over the things they are concerned over makes me nothing more than a throwback. They call me the hairy one, Sasquatch, caveman, etc. I usually respond that they are just jealous because they are not man enough to look like a man like me. Here comes the kicker: They don't want to be manly. It is out of style.
Excuse me? Did I miss something?
Have you ever heard the term: Metrosexual?
Well, if not, here's a quick lesson.
Apparently, being metrosexual is the latest fad. It is basically fashionable to act gay (in the sense of a gay man's style of dress, sensitivity, love for shopping, grooming standards, etc.), even if you are not gay. Specifically, this term refers to males who have taken narcissism to a whole new level. They are the young dudes that have taken the GQ thing to its limit. And they spend an ungodly amount of funds on their clothing while they are at it.
Hey, I have no problem having a nice wardrobe, but not the "to die for" outfits these guys wear. I throw on some jeans, sneakers, a nice shirt with a fishing logo on the back, maybe a ballcap, and I'm good to go out to dinner, dancing, or the movies. These metrosexuals (and even the younger guys that claim they aren't) have to have the black dress shoes, nice pleated slacks (of which I wear too. . . well, I have one pair that I wear a couple times a year, I think. They're somewhere deep in the closet behind my many pairs of blue jeans), the button down silk shirt with the gold lined button covers, the expensive watch with some Japanese character in the middle of the face, gold rings on their fingers, bling bling around their neck, and diamond studs on their ear lobes big enough to choke a horse.
And I understand being sensitive. I am a sensitive guy. Growing up, and when I first married Mrs. Pistachio, I was proclaimed to be the most sensitive guy anybody had ever met, and I am a cold hearted flounder compared to these prancing beauties.
Okay, understand me, here. I am not saying that people shouldn't be allowed to do what they can to look good, or whatever. That's their business. I am not gay bashing, either, though homosexuality is not on my list of favored activities by anybody. But I am a believer that extremes are bad, and metrosexuals take the extremes to the extreme.
And it makes me uncomfortable when they give me garbage over the fact that my idea of looking good is not the same as theirs. "Go back to the seventies and eighties," they tell me.
I wish I could.
Metrosexuals claim that they are not afraid to embrace their feminine side.
Neither am I. Her name is Virginia. She's my wife. She's feminine, I am masculine.
The good news is, Metrosexuality is on its way out, and Macho is on its way back (read about that here).
I don't need a bunch of skin care products and labels on my clothing to make me an acceptable man to my woman. All I have to be is myself, and she loves me for that. Metrosexuals feel like they have to put on this chirade to get the gal. Leave the flaming to the gays, my friends, and just be yourself. Your woman will love ya for it. And if she doesn't prefer you for who you really are, she's not worth it anyway.