A rose by any other name….

Every man is a man
I want you all to understand…
Every man is a man
In his own style and fashion…

--from Every Man is a Man by Johnny Osbourne


So what the heck is a metrosexual anyway? I asked Deb’s slightly-slutty-but-sweet friend Sandra (triple-S behind her back). Sandra is the data bank of all things carnal.

“Oh, that’s a guy who takes forever to get ready for a date. He can be gay or straight, but he’d be really into his hair and clothes. He’d be looking at himself as he walked by a mirror rather than looking at his partner.”

So I’m in no danger of being a metrosexual.

“Not in this lifetime,” giggled SSS.

I was getting an update on her latest escapades, as I hadn’t seen her for about six weeks. With Sandra this is kind of like Dog Years. A lot can happen in her universe in a short time. Hey, I forgot to ask, are you gay or straight at the moment?

“I’m back to guys, that thing with Tina didn’t really work out too well. By the way, what did you really think of her?”

Well, not to be too crude, but if you’re going to the trouble of dating another woman, I think you should have at least chosen a pretty one. The real truth, I think, is that Sandra is straight—but has, really, really, really bad taste in men. She got burned so many times she decided to try her luck as a lesbian. Unfortunately, she used the same bad selection process that lead her into trouble with men. She picked an egotistical, self centered, controlling, son-of-a-bitch who just happened to have breasts instead of a penis.

Then she starting telling me about this guy who caught her interest who turned out to be gay. “He wasn’t effeminate or anything, who knew?”

I don’t think there’s any requirements for gay men to be effeminate.

“That’s true. You’re straight and you’re pretty effeminate.”

Now-wait-a-minute!! That’s the second time in a month a female of the species has called me effeminate. The first was Deb’s hairdresser who was telling me about her new boy-friend and had said, “he’s not super macho, he’s more effeminate like you.” I blew off this comment because Deb’s hairdresser is notorious for using vocabulary beyond her….intelligence…so she’s often using less-than-appropriate words. She’s a riot to listen to. But triple-S is a smart lady with a Master’s Degree who does not misuse words.

I always thought of myself as pretty macho.

Triple-S laughed so hard she nearly drove off the road.

Now I know I’m testosterone-lite. Which I always viewed as a good thing. Testosterone is an intelligence inhibitor, after all. So I’m not US Marine studley. And they’ll never ask me to a Marlboro Man model. And it is true that strange bimbos don’t follow me down the street, damn it. But there is more to manliness than abs. At least I hope so.

Granted, I have spaghetti arms. But I’ve got nice chest hair (although the young female medical assistants tell me that’s out of fashion right now).

When I told Debbie about the two accusations of effeminateness she got quite prickly. “You aren’t effeminate at all. They are both out of their minds.”

Now is that the gospel truth, or does she not want to face up to being married to the 90-pound weakling of the old comic book ads?

“Neither one of them has ever met a man with a brain before,” snapped Deb.

Ah-ha. Now we are getting somewhere. Could it be that we lack a definition for the evolved male? The guy who is kind, faithful, and interested in things beyond the 24-hour sports channel?

I propose we need to add a new word to our social lexicon. A new definition of manliness. Well, an alternative form of manliness anyway. I think Macho is good for the strong of body sort. Military men. Cowboys. Weightlifters and assorted athletes. Firefighters and cops.

But what about the cranial heroes of science and medicine? Teachers, engineers, artists? Men of mind and soul. Isn’t that manly too?

So I was thinking of Macho-lectual (from macho + intellectual). I also toyed with Intella-macho; but I think Macho-lectual rolls off the tongue better.

Thoughts?