Month: December 2011
Recently I have come across a new phenomenon that I just can’t wrap my brain around. I am simply befuddled by the enormity of the weight of this trend. This new trend is whining and complaining men. I can’t stand it and if there is anything that a woman will not tolerate is man that has nothing positive to say. I know, long gone are the days of Clint Eastwood when a man walked up to another and socked him in the face for just being a lily-livered scally-wag, but a whining man is just plain unsavory. It is an unpalatable taste that seems to linger throughout your day.
Today, I walked into my co-workers work area, and her counterpart was sitting there with a scowl on his face. No surprise, there is always a scowl on his face, but today, I just was not in the mood to hear it. I said a polite “Good Morning,” and he started in with this litany of whining. It wasn’t complaining, it was simple unadulterated whining. Before I knew what came over me, I said, “Get thee behind me Satan, you will not take my joy on this day!” My friend balked, he balked and I took a seat. You know what happened then? Yeap, he shut the bleep up.
I was not out of line and this why. My dear friend absolutely finds no joy in her job. I am constantly tortured at lunch by a shell of my happy go lucky friend, because she has been poisoned and tainted by Sir Shirk A Lot. If you constantly are being fed a diet of salt soaked food, then please expect to have high blood pressure. He is vacuuming her soul of any joy in her day by having to listen to his incessant whining. But he is not the only criminal in joy reduction in life. There are tons of people that we surround ourselves with that love to sap your joy and yet we fail to understand why we sometimes are discontent. We have these joy parasites as relatives. We have these joy sanguisuges as friends but moreover, we work alongside these joy vampires.
If you don’t like your job, then quit. No one, not any one, should have to listen to your discontent all damned day long because your set has shrunk. I have a set big enough for both of us; you can borrow mine for a day or so. It makes a woman long for the days of the old fashioned fella that tipped his hat and said, “howdy Maam!” I can even remember as a young girl watching Lady Sing the Blues, and the ever so dapper Billy Dee Williams asking, “…you want my arm to fall off?” Although he was a chain smoking cigar hack, you felt his passion and thought of him as a real man.
I say a good deal of this with a tongue in cheek attitude, but I like to surround myself with happy people. I do not expect everyone to be happy every day, but I am not going to surround myself with someone that is never happy. I am not certain what has gone wrong for my-coworker, and I am not sure who has taken a tinkle in his lemonade, but really, if the lemonade tastes a tad bit tart, then stop drinking it.
I can spend a day discussing the psychological ramifications of the effects of role reversals on the American male psyche. I can speak for hours on the impact of NAFTA and the exportation of American jobs which have taken our men out of work. I can talk about the changes the corporate workplace that put overly aggressive women in charge of men that has cause a pseudo misogamist reversal in roles that have left men feeling, well less of a man. But in the same breath, I can also speak on men who have started their own ventures and new companies by the sweat of the brow. I can elaborate on the small businesses that have started by these displaced factory workers that are building new communities. I can talk about the single fathers who have stepped up and learn about spaghetti straps and hair bows. However, none of these men are sitting behind a desk whining.
If you are unhappy, get up off your duff and make some changes. But for all that is holy, stop whining, because eventually, you will get your just desserts.