Men? – SWEP

Are men turning into Big Jessies?

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, brain surgery 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 – in spite of the Me Too and man bashing minorities!!! I am all for women’s rights etc but all this is going too far. Next thing we will have men apologising for being men!!!

What a year!!!- SWEP

Apparently, my column is causing some disappointment among some of you Evening Post readers, particularly those who are fans of my books. ‘Too tame’, ‘Not hard-hitting enough’, ‘Not the Ruck we know, at all’, are some of the examples of readership opinion when my novels are compared with columns herein – that’s good isn’t it, legalese and what have you!  

Well, you have a point. It is after all a writer’s duty to offend, we wouldn’t have a Parliament were it otherwise, so in future the gloves are well and truly off and anyone who upsets me had better watch out!  There is an awful lot of argument going around at the moment. The murder of an innocent, Sarah Everard, Brexit, the Markle Affair (I do not take much notice of this, it is a Royal mess again, Merkle is trying to turn it into a soap opera, she will win an Oscar for her performance and Harry is too weak to shut her up!) and so on. As for ‘the murder of an innocent’, I do not know what to say. Some men are undoubtfully perverted but what can you do? Stay safe is all I can say. Do not walk alone and keep your eyes open. Heaven knows what the parents must be thinking, if they think at all in the present circumstances. I have a remote idea what it is like to lose a child, heaven help them.

One morning last week, I was walking my dogs along the pathway in dear old Swansea (you know, the place that has a Council filled with those people who have delusions of grandeur, full to the brim of deluded self-importance, Sun outrage and those who have nothing better to do). One of my dogs is a greyhound, full of ladylike laziness and a damn your eyes contempt for everyone and the other is a cross between a jackal and a variety that even Heinz has not been able to conjure up yet (I am being polite now!).

Anyway, this woman started coming towards me, armed to the teeth with water-sprays, sticks, protective clothing you name it. She had three lumps of objectionable, haute-couture lumps of snappy fluff with her, in fact they were so small I didn’t even notice them at first.

‘Get your dogs’ away from my little darlings!’ she screamed, as she sprayed and snarled for deliverance. ‘They’re invading their space!’

‘Dogs, space?’ Now this was a new one. The woman was obviously on day-release from somewhere or other. My two were only doing what dogs do, sniffing backsides, bouncing around and generally enjoying themselves. Come to think of it, maybe her dogs were gay, they were pretty camp after all? Of course, I took no notice and just carried on walking. Later that morning I get a call from the police. ‘Sorry to bother you, Mr Ruck (grin, grin)…..but we have to respond to every complaint……’

My dogs are not ‘Dangerous’, and they will continue to enjoy themselves ‘off lead’. And as for you missus, see what happens when you mess about with your Swansea newspaper columnist? You’re lucky I’m not naming you!

Are men equal??? – SWEP

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve been pondering this whole equality of the sexes lark. Having lived through all the so-called gender-bender upheavals of the sixties and seventies, I think I am entitled to have a view on the feminist revolution with its subsequent demolishing of what I perceive, to be manly endeavor – let’s face it, all the nagging and moaning that women are famous for! Every second of every day, I come in for it! It is ruining my health!

 I mean, what are all these ante-natal classes, unisex baby changing rooms, trousers stacked with bottles and disposable nappies all about them – not to mention, men running about the place with a harnessed sprog up front pretending they are now the mother’s? Disgraceful. Men should go back to being men, never mind Mars or fifty shades of grey, blackness here we come!!!

You’d never catch me in a baby changing room and that’s a fact besides, even these places are ‘Non-Smoking’ now! Damn, I bet this is getting some of you warrior-like Boudicca’s and born-again Pankhursts all riled up. Enjoy your power that’s what I say! My point is this, the war is over. The chains on the railings have rusted away. Women are in the board rooms, in Parliament, in industry, in the professions…..there’s nothing left to prove.

But here’s the best bit, I can’t understand why the whole movement started up in the first place? Women have always called the shots, talk to any married man, or unmarried man for that matter! The Bard had it right all along, when he penned (I assume he had the missus at the back of his mind at the time), “What is she but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord, I am ashamed that women are so simple!”

I spout this every morning, as I’m making my wife her tea, 3.90 second boiled egg and melted butter toasted soldiers, that’s after I’ve scattered freshly cut rose petals on the carpet from bed to bath and all before I’ve hoovered, polished, fed and walked the dogs……..I’d better watch what I am saying here, the missus is hovering around, and you know what that means!

It’s a man’s world, ain’t it just! And what is all this? A Womens International Day, what about a day for men? Fat chance, and that is a fact!