Thursday, June 26, 2008

A man should be able to...

A few weeks ago I came across an article that identified 75 different things a man should be able to do. As I sat at dinner tonight with the research team and listened to the conversations around the table, I decided to start putting together my own list. Some of this is for Caleb. Some of this is for me. Some of this is from the original list. I’ll likely add to the list as time goes on, but this is tonight’s version.

Discuss a book that matters. The Catcher in the Rye does not matter. Not really. Neither does anything by J.K. Rowling, Tom Clancy, Stephen King, or John Grisham. You need to read, and you need to be able to read beyond the story. If you’re not sure where to start, consider All Quiet on the Western Front, To Kill a Mockingbird, or Frankenstein.
Not monopolize the conversation. You’re not as interesting a person as you think you are.
Write a letter. Easy to do. Easy to forget. Our culture of text messaging, instant messaging, and email has destroyed our ability to write coherent sentences (you know, nouns, verbs, punctuation, etc.), not to mention a full letter. A five-paragraph structure works pretty well. Tell why you're writing. Offer details. Ask questions. Give news. Add a specific memory or two. If your handwriting is terrible, type. Always close formally.
Buy a suit. Never shop the bargain rack, and always get it fitted. Know your likes, your dislikes, and why you need it. Squeeze the fabric. If it bounces back with little or no sign of wrinkling, that’s good. Tug the buttons gently. If they feel loose or wobbly, that’s bad. The jacket’s shoulder pads should square your shoulders; if they droop or leave dents in the cloth, it doesn’t fit. The pant legs should touch the top of your shoes with about an inch of fabric to spare (suits are to be worn while standing, not sitting). The sleeves should meet the base of your thumb at your wrist. Your shirt sleeves should extend beyond your coat sleeves 1/8” to 1/4” inch. As an aside, this is the most difficult code of fashion to maintain.
Show respect without drawing attention to it. Respect the following, in this order: age, experience, record, reputation.
Throw a punch. Stay close, but not too close. Swing with your shoulders, not your arm. You don’t have a haymaker and long punches rarely land squarely anyway, so forget the roundhouse. Follow through; don’t pop and pull back after contact. The length you give the punch should come in the form of extension after the point of contact (i.e., target about three inches behind the back of his head). If for some crazy reason you decide to throw the first punch, stay toe-to-toe and face the consequence. Just remember, the bones in your hand are small and easy to break. You’re better off striking hard with the heel of your palm. Or you could buy the guy a drink and talk it out.
Tie a tie with more than one knot. I prefer a Double Windsor, since it usually creates a more balanced knot, but it takes a lot of material. The Full Windsor and the Half Windsor are handy when I’m trying to working with a shorter tie.
Do math in his head. I’m not talking about differential calculus, just basic arithmetic functions with mostly round numbers. Mental algebra should not be a parlor trick.
Calculate square footage (length time width) and square a corner (a2 + b2 = c2).
Not be intimidated. I’ve gone to the same grill the last two days for lunch in Tampa Bay. 90% of the clientèle have graduate degrees. The guy behind the counter, who probably didn't graduate from high school, made the lunch a rich experience. He worked hard enough that he didn’t have to tell stupid jokes. He didn’t stare, and he wasn’t afraid to look you in the eye. He knew things I didn’t, but didn’t feel the need to talk about them every minute. He didn’t scrape or apologize for his status or his job or the way he was dressed. He simply did his job confidently, skillfully, and with quiet relish. Act like that guy.
Drive an eightpenny nail into a treated two-by-four without thinking about it. Use a contractor’s hammer. My personal preference is a 26 oz. Estwing with a waffle head. Swing hard and loose like a forehand in racquetball.
Play chess with an old guy. Old men will try to crush you. They'll drown you in meaningless chatter, tell stories about when they were kids this or in Korea that. Or they'll retreat into a taciturn posture designed to get you to do the talking. They'll note your strategies without mentioning them, keep the stakes at a level they can control, and change up their pace of play just to get you stumbling. You have to do this; you have to play their game. They may have been playing for decades. You take a beating as a means of absorbing the lessons they've learned without taking a lesson. But don't be afraid to take them down. They can handle it.
Play Candy Land with a kid. You don't crush kids. You talk their ear off, make an event out of it, tell them stories about when you were a kid this or in Vegas that. You have to play their game, too, even though they may have been playing only for weeks. Observe. Teach them without once offering a lesson. And don't be afraid to win. They can handle it.
Understand quantum physics well enough to accept that a quarter might, at some point, pass straight through the table when dropped. Tonight at dinner one of the waiters dropped a tray full of very breakable items. I made a mental wager on who would win, quantum physics or Newton. Well, the bowls, glasses, plates, all shattered (score one for Newton), but it led to a discussion about an infinite number of universes and a corresponding infinite numbers of possibilities, and if one of the universes duplicated another could you capture the entire field of possibilities? Turns out, sometimes the laws of physics aren't laws at all. Oh, and yes, I did bet on Newton.
Feign interest. Good place to start: quantum physics.
Make a bed, do the dishes, do the laundry, iron a shirt (start rough, end gentle), change a diaper (always gentle).
Jump-start a car (without any drama), change a flat tire (safely), change the oil.
Install: a disposal, an electronic thermostat, or a lighting fixture without asking for help. I'll give you one hint, then you're on your own: turn off the main. If you don't know what that means, or why it should matter, ask for help.
Dress a wound. First, stop the bleeding. Apply pressure using a gauze pad. Stay with the pressure. If you can't stop the bleeding, forget the next step, just get to a hospital. Once the bleeding stops, clean the wound. Use water or saline solution; a little soap is good, too. If you can't get the wound clean, then forget the next step, just get to a hospital. Finally, dress the wound. For a laceration, push the edges together and apply a butterfly bandage. For avulsions, where the skin is punctured and pulled back like a trapdoor, push the skin back and use a butterfly. Slather the area in antibacterial ointment. Cover the wound with a gauze pad taped into place. Change that dressing every 12 hours, checking carefully for signs of infection. Better yet, get to a hospital.
Hit a stop shot in pool. Put the cue on the bottom quarter of the cue ball. Hit it hard and pull back. If you did it right, it will rotate backward slowly as it slides forward across the table and will stop the instant it connects with the ball. If you did it wrong, it will follow the ball into the hole and you just lost the game. This is probably the most useful shot in pool.
Tell a joke. Here’s one: Two guys are walking down a dark alley when a mugger approaches them and demands their money. They both grudgingly pull out their wallets and begin taking out their cash. Just then, one guy turns to the other, hands him a bill, and says, “Hey, here's that $20 I owe you.”

mw

1 comment:

Katherine said...

No pressure Caleb....