Our neighborhood of duplexes is a mixed bag of styles not only in architecture and color palettes but in landscaping achievements. One day I noticed that the yards with the highest weeds, the most ragged grass edges, the most uncared for flower beds seem to have the most prolific rose bushes. Did this mean that the more roses are neglected and mistreated, the more they flourished?
This immediately drew a parallel in my mind with men and the treatment thereof. Think about it. I have noticed that treating men with too much kindness and concern has a tendency to weaken them.
For instance, start feeding a man at a certain time one day and pretty soon he is always expecting it. Do him a favor and iron his shirt and the next thing you know, you’ve rewritten your job description. Offer to hold the light when he’s changing the spark plugs and before you know it, you’re putting air in your own tires.
A once proud, independent, self-sufficient man soon begins to ask directions when he is lost, looks puzzled when he can’t find his socks, and acts surprised when there is no beer in the refrigerator.
On the other hand, the more temperamental, demanding and hard-to-please a woman is, the more likely it is a man will wash his own clothes, stop at the store on the way home for groceries and bring home the occasional present if he knows what’s good for him.
In order to do my bit for the equality of the sexes, I have resolved to keep the whole masculine sex as tough as possible by some well-placed indifference. As I pondered this new resolution I rounded the corner on my morning walk and was met with a surprising sight.
There has been on our street a most amazing oak tree, towering 60 feet or more. The trunk is at least four feet across. This oak is not a particularly attractive tree. On the contrary, its thick, dark trunk and dwarfed branches sets against the glue sky like a scar.
It is an Anthony Quinn kind of tree. Somewhere along the line, the tree was badly pruned and trimmed by someone with no aesthetic sensibility. As a result, it looks stunted and deformed. Now, however, I saw that the branches had all been lopped off and this giant had been cut to the roots.
Instead of looking up and up and up into its canopy, I looked down at the fresh-cut trunk which was now level with the ground. The black ring of bark had been protecting a beautiful golden interior of rings which encircled a rich dark brown center that was the heart of the tree.
Perhaps if it had been left alone, if it had suffered some benign neglect like the rose bushes, it would have thrived and lived a long life. As it was, it had been a strong and gnarly and tough. It would be a long time in dying.
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