A writer writes about the world as he (or she) sees it. These observations are liked by some, hated by others but there we are, a writer can never ever please everyone and this is just the way it should be.
Now, in my time I’ve had many a medical and surgical procedure, from club feet twists and turns to open heart jobs and a good few items in between. Indeed my body (such as it is!) bears a strong resemblance to a National Rail railway map, such are the stitched scars etc plastered all over me – actually you know, women have never seemed to have objected to all these nasty little trials of living, makes ‘em all sympathetic, at least they used to be anyway!
Recently, I was in hospital having what in my view was a minor medical procedure and certainly nothing to write home about, as it were. Not so it seemed. At least where all these young strapping macho, rugby types were concerned.
There they were, gobbling down sedatives, holding girlfriends’ hands and looking as if they were about to face a firing squad!
I have to say, I was astonished. The only time I involve my own missus in anything medical is if I know there really is a risk of me snuffing it, then to be fair she has a right to know what is going on, even if it’s only to discover where my last Will and Testament is located.
So, what do you make of all this?
I suppose one can only observe that apparently these days young men are taking longer to dress than young women, male cosmetics are rapidly catching up with the female variety in sales and to cap it all, these young male pioneers of the modern world are starting to blub in public!
I mean…..Big Jessies or what??
Take all this along with baby-carrying knapsacks, baby bottle stuffed pockets and nappy liners as handkerchiefs and what have you got?
Men are no longer men, and God help all you girls out there!