Arousing the Ire of the King of the Grumpies

Boogers, blood, puke, puss, pee, poop, wieners,
butts, and breasts; enough players here for a
baseball team, or the Supreme Court. To ever
comprehend the male psyche, you must realize there
is an abiding (seomtimes exclusive) interest in these
facets of existence.
Adam, Nathan, and I were on the ptio last Saturday
telling gross out jokes. Not my idea to start, but I did
not disapprove. I was slightly lconcerned that the
neighbors could overhear, but aware of this slight
concern. Solme things can be outgrown quickly if
they are not made to appear unduly enticing by
being portrayed as forbidden.
Adam asked, “Why did the racoon barf?”
I answered, “Because his girl friend was a dog?”
Adam's face went into contortions. “Ooh,” he said,
“That's like being gay.”
One of the boys began telling another gross out joke.
I felt a pain in my forehead. My eyes moistened
slightly. The punch line was delivered. I looked at my
son and said the only words which came to me: “You
know Adam, sometimes I think you know more than I
think ou know.” And I let it go at that.
Back inside, and later, Grandpa Ralph told the boys
there was a real good Cowboy Movie on, a recent
remake of Bonanza. Tought act to follow. Hoss, Little
Joe and Ben are all dead. Don't know about Pernell
Roberts. Of course, Grandpa Ralph had not
previewed this real good Cowboy Movie, nor had he
read the reviews. Had he done so, he might not have
characterized it as a real good Cowboy Movie.
The boys could tell they were not being asked if the
would like to wathc thi real good Cowboy Movie. Ther
were bineg told to be company. They have paid the
price for being unable to pre-select their grandfathers
before. But they had each other and this was entirely
sufficient to offset being condemned to watch a
movie which did not hold their interest. They got
rowdy, basdy, and loud. I went upstairs, hainvg no
particular desire to watch this particular real good
Cowboy Movie and I do not believe in attempting to
keep boys from being obys. Number one, it doesn't
work. Number two, it's wrong.
I reutnred later. While the boys were having fun
laughing and discussing topics inappropriate for
Grandpa Ralph's cherished preconceived notions
something started to tick. He raised the tone of his
voice, not to the stern, harsh, and brooding level, but
up a notch, enough for ony one who was paying
attention, as Pavlovian dogs are trained to do. This is
what he said:”If you boys are going to act like
animals when ye're watching my television show,
then the next time you're watching your television
show, I'm going to act like an animal too.”
The boys continued “acting like animals” (exuberant
and playful). They have no frame of reference.
They'ave never seen this Grandpa Ralph explode.
They didn't realize they were being admonished to be
quiet. They do not know that in order to understand
Grandpa Ralph, you must realize that he doesn't
always mean what he syas, and that he never says
what he means.
It soon dawned on Granpa Ralph that they were too
dumb to understand what he hadn't told them, and as
punishment, he sent them upstairs, and switched to a
basketball game. They boys were oblivious to what
they had escaped. There were not terrifified. They
continued “acting like animals.”
It was amazing and cathartic to watch. They went to
the living room mirror and poked their fingers into
every nook and cranny of their faces. Up eyelids,
apart nostrils, down ear lobes and out tongue.
Nathan, the taller stood up close to the mirror to
check out his contortions. Adam slipped in between
Nathan and the mirror. And after perfecting their
horrible facial aspects, they turned to me, the arbiter
of the rude, crude, and bawdy to swee what verdict I
would render.
Gross! Disgusting! Terrifying! Ugly! Nightmarish!
Alarming! Yuck!
Boogers, blood, puke puss, pee, poop, wienter, butts,
and breasts. There's enough here for a lifetime of
contemplation. The permutations and combinations
are virtually infiniate. A guy doesn't need anything
more, at least to move comfortably aoubt in the
company of other members of the guy tribe. I speak
as a member carrying member of that tribe.
And with this foundation, a man eventually comes to
believe that he understands women, even though
he'd rather not hafe to believe what he believes he
understands. Reiterating, there are enormous
fundamental differences. I understand men. As for
women, this is all I know: there exist enormous
fundamental differences.