I just finished reading a little article out of Toronto that asked men and women around the world what they considered the most important trait is in a mate. I'm always amused by these types of studies because I wonder if they consider the fact that an answer to a pollster might not be the answer they would get after a truth serum kegger. Ask a guy on the streets, any guy on any street in Anytown, U.S.A., what he feels is the most important trait in a mate (or potential mate), and he's liable to belch a cloud of lunch meat breath at you and say, "big tits!" while concaving his palms and crooking his fingers and holding them over his chest, in case you needed visual confirmation. Ask his equally charming buddy, and he'd come at you with, "she had better have a GREAT ass!" while using the same hand formation and looking like he's stroking both ends of an invisible watermelon. Then, they would get into a philosophical discussion about their respective favorite female body parts, acknowledge each others' favorite choices, and turn to see the pollster had disappeared an ago to bang his or her head against the table of the nearest Internet cafe.
The five choices given in the survey of what is most important were, Sense of Humor, Brains, Good Looks, Religion/Race (which should have been two categories), and Money. These questions were asked to people on six different continents. I assume Antarctica, even with its trendy discos, upscale real estate, and its tres-chic theater district, wasn't included because it is practically all white and wouldn't give a broad enough cross-section of races. Then again, I don't imagine they went into the deepest parts of Africa, either, preferring to cherry-pick South Africa and maybe Morocco. Can't really see them getting too many responses from the religious fundamentalists in the Middle East, or the high altitude people who live in the Himalayas. Basically, I think, they selected their sample population sources from places that had a roaring nightlife, easy access to Ecstasy, and was populated by too-cool people who wouldn't be caught dead without a fashionable scarf (both male and female) and a designer coffee in their hands.
Now, the survey I took was only inclusive of the five choices above. Let's take a look of those five choices individually (and the percentages of what people considered most important traits), shall we?
Sense of Humor (55%)
Right off the bat, I'm thrown for a loop. 55%? Are you kidding me? I guess we can all tear up those gym memberships, put off those tummy tucks, trade in that Mercedes for an economy car, and enroll in a stand-up comedy class. I see a huge number like 55% and I'm half tempted to walk up to a pretty gal and tell a knock-knock joke - court order be damned. Now, I'm not going to bash the opposite sex here, but one thing I have learned from all the women I have known over the years, is yeah, they love a guy with a sense of humor - as long he is a good-looking guy. I was voted Class Clown for my stellar work in high school for a number of years, but I didn't have any homecoming queens or cheerleaders stuffing their panties with their phone numbers written on them into my pocket when they passed me in the hall. Even as an adult, if sense of humor is your long suit (and maybe your only suit), and if you don't have the looks, money, or position of status, women will generally look at you like you remind them of their creepy uncle if you ask them out. You know the uncle I'm talking about - the one your mother wouldn't let be alone with you in the same room. Men are no less guilty, but in a different way. Men generally size up women by imagining them naked first. Not saying that women don't do the same thing, but we're more consistent. It's our nature. To a man, a woman with a sense of humor isn't someone who is humorous, but, rather, someone who will laugh at his jokes. It makes our egos erect, and I don't care what anyone says - the quickest way to a man's heart is through his ego. So, you see, men who answered "Sense of Humor" as being the most desirable trait have already assumed that she would be pleasing to his eye when she is naked and selected "Sense of Humor" as a self-serving answer. Not too many guys are going to tell their buddies about a new girl they're seeing and lead with, "well, she's got the greatest sense of humor..." All they care about is how she looks naked.
Brains (22%)
Brains actually hooks into Sense of Humor, but they're not reflexive. To have a genuinely sharp sense of humor, you have to be reasonably smart. You have to be sharp, astute, and nimble. That's not to say Stephen Hawking would keep you in stitches talking about his Unified Field Theory. Many people who are just flat-out geniuses never bothered to dust off that part of their DNA. But, let's be frank here. Smart people are intimidating to a lot of people - even smart people. But, ask yourself, are we talking about book smarts or life smarts? Sure, there's the person who can spend the entire date talking about the Defenestration of Prague but not know they have to change the oil in their cars. Similarly, there are people who can take apart an entire small block engine, rebuild blindfolded, and think Oscar Wilde is the name of an Academy Awards preview show. My guess is that, for women, it's a guy who can fix the car when it breaks down AND find all the legal tax loopholes on your income tax return. For men, it's a woman who can complete the Sunday crossword puzzle that he couldn't finish as well understanding that the play-action pass is dependent on a strong running game. She also has to look good naked.
Good Looks (13%)
Well, we finally get to the nitty gritty - the only people who answered this question truthfully. We men are visual creatures and there's no getting around it. That's not to say women are not visual creatures, either. The combined 77% of Sense of Humor and Brains doesn't even get past the screen door unless Good Looks are involved. Let's not kid ourselves here, folks. It is what it is. There is a vanity that comes into play. We are all vain to some degree and some only care what a person looks like on their arm. Many women are quick to note that they once dated someone who wasn't incredibly handsome; but notice they aren't dating that person anymore. The more attractive a woman is, the more attractive a mate she feels she DESERVES to have. No one DESERVES an attractive mate. Just because you work out, honey, doesn't give you manifest destiny to be with a hunk. And fellas, we're no different. In fact, men are generally worse, as we trade in our aging beauties for newer models. Remember, when women age, they get old - at least that's how many women and men feel; when men age, we become "distinguished" or some nonsense like that. Baloney. Generally, women who go for older men are attracted to the power they possess in business or socially. Older men leverage that position and end up with a new girlfriend and alimony payments. But, the tide is turning. More and more women are grabbing men younger than them - in some cases, MANY years younger, so if you thought this was a man's game, you're living in the past. There is definitely a caste system in effect when it comes to looks. You're either the Sneetches with Stars or the Sneetches without Stars upon Thars. We are a shallow society trying to convince ourselves that we look beyond the surface, but when we are buying a new car, we only look at the kick-ass stereo if we like what the car looks like on the outside first.
Religion/Race (6%)
The fact that this rated higher than money tells me a couple things: a) That some people will not date someone from outside their religion or race, which is due to a conditioned prejudice, a fear of what family and/or friends would think, or the fact that they are just that committed to a future household where certain basic values are ensured; or b) the people who wanted to select "Money" actually chose "Sense of Humor" to make them feel less guilty about showing their true colors. For those who chose "Religion/Race," I actually believe them. This wasn't the glamorous choice and it certainly was the least sexy.
Money (4%)
Like the Good Looks category, I also think that these people answered 100% honestly. They didn't care that they looked like gold diggers, regardless of gender, they were straight out, saying, "I want a man (or woman) to provide a luxurious lifestyle for me, and I don't want to work." Nothing wrong with that. I'm sure most of us would like that, but Money is not a personal characteristic. Money has no sense of humor, has no intelligence, isn't going to win any bodybuilding or wet T-shirt contests, and it belongs to no race or religion. Anyone who selected Money as the most important trait pretty much doesn't care about the person - only themselves. Women were pretty much shoved in this direction for decades, if not centuries, to marry someone who could take care of them and provide for them. How else do you explain when a women meets a new guy, the first thing they mention is the man's occupation? What a silly, childish thing to do. They might mention his car(s), house(s), how much he makes, etc. when the most important thing is how he treats her. Mentioning that other stuff off the bat is for immature teenagers. As for men, they look at it as a free ride to raid her father's 100-year-old scotch, buy as many toys as possible, and STILL cheat on her. Why? Because sudden wealth can change everything.
Even if she looks good naked.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Auld Lang Resign Yourself
Today is the first day of the new year. I am not exactly sure when it stops being a "new" year and transforms into being just a regular old "year." But, one thing is for sure, we know when a year becomes an old year.
It's the middle of the afternoon and if you listen closely, and the wind is just right, you can hear the crashing and burning of millions of resolutions going down like Hindenbergs as another cigarette is lit, another treadmill is still covered in dirty laundry and the bottom of another pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream gets scraped clean. Motivations to improve our lives are a lot tougher than passing the calendar version of Monopoly's "GO", collecting $200 and losing 15 pounds. Why January 1st? Why not March 4th? Yom Kippur? Boxing Day (for those of the British/Canadian persuasion)? Personally, I think the best day to toss my line into the shallow lake of promises would be February 29th - that's right, Leap Year. Every four years, like the Olympics, the general election and when I clean out my fridge, make some changes. Hey, at least it's not as contrived as the holier-than-thou "I will be the best ultimate person I can be" wall that so many people steer themselves into as the days tick towards December 31st.
As I sit here with two cigarettes lit and a death-grip on a tube of raw cookie dough, I thought about some of the more popular resolutions and how they usually end up when the harsh blast of December winds eventually make their way back to our The Far Side cartoon-a-day calendars:
I'm going to stop smoking
This is one of the most popular resolutions ever trumpeted. It's usually followed by a little voice in your head that says, "but, geez, do I really HAVE to?" Sure, you can give all the reasons you want, such as improving your health, saving money, and not having the stench of tobacco on everything you could possibly own, but, in the end, when you're tipping back that third glass of merlot or get stressed out over work or a relationship, you're tearing through a fresh pack of smokes like a ghoul searching for a juicy brain. Of course, then you can rationalize it away by saying, "ok, that was one time. It'll never happen again." A few months later, you're machine-gunning cigarettes like bullet casings as you're charging an enemy hill. By the time the year is up, your cigarette consumption has actually increased by 50% over the previous year. And don't even mention cigars. For some people out there cigars (and to a lesser degree, pipes) aren't "smoking". That's like saying, "they aren't my drugs, mom, I was only holding them for someone". Smoking is smoking. Either do it or don't do it, but don't try to be the heroic 1% who can actually quit cold turkey; otherwise, buy stock in Phillip Morris.
I'm going to lose weight
This is the second head of the Cerebrus of Resolutions. You start out really well on this particular resolution because a food craving is different than a cigarette craving. Cigarette cravings are pangs of insanity for a smoke while a food craving is mostly something to fill your gullet. You have a choice between celery and a dirty paw full of animal lard, between water and a tureen of gravy, between grilled chicken and a jumbo cheesesteak sandwich, breaded, deep fried in hog fat, and sprinkled with confection sugar.
(God damn, does that sound good...)
The choices are yours as to what you eat. There are plenty of diets out there with awful-tasting pre-packaged entrees. Plenty of dietary supplements festoon the shelves of practically every drug store. And, if you love television as much as I think you do, you know there is a virtual conga line of infomercials on in the wee hours of the morning, all claiming to melt 50% of your body weight away overnight by using an extraction of the feathery extension of the stamen of the desert Choctaw cactus. But, of course, that little voice in your head tells you, "oh, that little piece of cheesecake isn't going to kill you. You need to reward yourself now and then!" A few months go by and you're shot-gunning cans of Redi-Whip, two at a time, before you even leave the supermarket. By the time the year is up, you refuse to eat anything not deep fried and dipped in chocolate. Then, right before New Year's Eve, you have a salad and some water and proclaim you are getting a head start on next year since all of your "fat clothes" from the previous year are now your "skinny clothes" for the next.
I'm going to get in shape
Finally, the dropping of the third shoe. Some may think this is related to the "I'm going to lose weight" resolution, and it does, but it just as easily can be attached to the "I'm going to quit smoking resolution," too. All of that expensive equipment you paid for in the drive to firm up those abs, lose that unsightly cellulite, and cut in half your number of chins is no more than a place to hang wet towels, dirty clothes, or convert into S&M devices for flaying pasty white, overweight businessmen. Now, this may be the hardest one to do, because this resolution generally requires a buddy to keep you going and for you to keep him or her going, as well. It's too easy to look outside, see a single cotton ball cloud in the sky and say "Looks like rain. Have to put off that jogging until tomorrow." We've all seen the ads with the guys with the impossibly-etched six-pack abs and the women with buns so tight they could knock the horn off a charging rhinoceros. Trust me, these people were either hatched, scientifically assembled, or the latest in life-like animation. These aren't real people like you and me. We'll never look like them. But, if your resolution to get in shape is genuine, follow the first two resolutions above and get a buddy to help you through, or you'll be out of the race before the groundhog rolls out of bed on the second day of February.
Look, people, I'm not here to preach. I am the worst example of how to make and hold on to a resolution. My resolution? Make no resolutions. Just do what you think is right when you are ready to make it right - or unless medically demanded by the physician whose mutual fund program you are personally financing. As for me? Perhaps some day I'll take my own advice.
Maybe next year.
It's the middle of the afternoon and if you listen closely, and the wind is just right, you can hear the crashing and burning of millions of resolutions going down like Hindenbergs as another cigarette is lit, another treadmill is still covered in dirty laundry and the bottom of another pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey ice cream gets scraped clean. Motivations to improve our lives are a lot tougher than passing the calendar version of Monopoly's "GO", collecting $200 and losing 15 pounds. Why January 1st? Why not March 4th? Yom Kippur? Boxing Day (for those of the British/Canadian persuasion)? Personally, I think the best day to toss my line into the shallow lake of promises would be February 29th - that's right, Leap Year. Every four years, like the Olympics, the general election and when I clean out my fridge, make some changes. Hey, at least it's not as contrived as the holier-than-thou "I will be the best ultimate person I can be" wall that so many people steer themselves into as the days tick towards December 31st.
As I sit here with two cigarettes lit and a death-grip on a tube of raw cookie dough, I thought about some of the more popular resolutions and how they usually end up when the harsh blast of December winds eventually make their way back to our The Far Side cartoon-a-day calendars:
I'm going to stop smoking
This is one of the most popular resolutions ever trumpeted. It's usually followed by a little voice in your head that says, "but, geez, do I really HAVE to?" Sure, you can give all the reasons you want, such as improving your health, saving money, and not having the stench of tobacco on everything you could possibly own, but, in the end, when you're tipping back that third glass of merlot or get stressed out over work or a relationship, you're tearing through a fresh pack of smokes like a ghoul searching for a juicy brain. Of course, then you can rationalize it away by saying, "ok, that was one time. It'll never happen again." A few months later, you're machine-gunning cigarettes like bullet casings as you're charging an enemy hill. By the time the year is up, your cigarette consumption has actually increased by 50% over the previous year. And don't even mention cigars. For some people out there cigars (and to a lesser degree, pipes) aren't "smoking". That's like saying, "they aren't my drugs, mom, I was only holding them for someone". Smoking is smoking. Either do it or don't do it, but don't try to be the heroic 1% who can actually quit cold turkey; otherwise, buy stock in Phillip Morris.
I'm going to lose weight
This is the second head of the Cerebrus of Resolutions. You start out really well on this particular resolution because a food craving is different than a cigarette craving. Cigarette cravings are pangs of insanity for a smoke while a food craving is mostly something to fill your gullet. You have a choice between celery and a dirty paw full of animal lard, between water and a tureen of gravy, between grilled chicken and a jumbo cheesesteak sandwich, breaded, deep fried in hog fat, and sprinkled with confection sugar.
(God damn, does that sound good...)
The choices are yours as to what you eat. There are plenty of diets out there with awful-tasting pre-packaged entrees. Plenty of dietary supplements festoon the shelves of practically every drug store. And, if you love television as much as I think you do, you know there is a virtual conga line of infomercials on in the wee hours of the morning, all claiming to melt 50% of your body weight away overnight by using an extraction of the feathery extension of the stamen of the desert Choctaw cactus. But, of course, that little voice in your head tells you, "oh, that little piece of cheesecake isn't going to kill you. You need to reward yourself now and then!" A few months go by and you're shot-gunning cans of Redi-Whip, two at a time, before you even leave the supermarket. By the time the year is up, you refuse to eat anything not deep fried and dipped in chocolate. Then, right before New Year's Eve, you have a salad and some water and proclaim you are getting a head start on next year since all of your "fat clothes" from the previous year are now your "skinny clothes" for the next.
I'm going to get in shape
Finally, the dropping of the third shoe. Some may think this is related to the "I'm going to lose weight" resolution, and it does, but it just as easily can be attached to the "I'm going to quit smoking resolution," too. All of that expensive equipment you paid for in the drive to firm up those abs, lose that unsightly cellulite, and cut in half your number of chins is no more than a place to hang wet towels, dirty clothes, or convert into S&M devices for flaying pasty white, overweight businessmen. Now, this may be the hardest one to do, because this resolution generally requires a buddy to keep you going and for you to keep him or her going, as well. It's too easy to look outside, see a single cotton ball cloud in the sky and say "Looks like rain. Have to put off that jogging until tomorrow." We've all seen the ads with the guys with the impossibly-etched six-pack abs and the women with buns so tight they could knock the horn off a charging rhinoceros. Trust me, these people were either hatched, scientifically assembled, or the latest in life-like animation. These aren't real people like you and me. We'll never look like them. But, if your resolution to get in shape is genuine, follow the first two resolutions above and get a buddy to help you through, or you'll be out of the race before the groundhog rolls out of bed on the second day of February.
Look, people, I'm not here to preach. I am the worst example of how to make and hold on to a resolution. My resolution? Make no resolutions. Just do what you think is right when you are ready to make it right - or unless medically demanded by the physician whose mutual fund program you are personally financing. As for me? Perhaps some day I'll take my own advice.
Maybe next year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
