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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781600370120 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Morgan James Publishing |
| Publication date: | 02/06/2007 |
| Pages: | 217 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.10(w) x 8.94(h) x 0.56(d) |
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CHAPTER 1
The Nine Steps
Man, as a species, has been hunted for centuries. If it were not for his faulty brain and the fact that he was attracted to his predators, he would have developed some sort of useful defence mechanism by now, like quills or huge, lobster-like claws. Instead, he has worked on his ability to emit a slightly poisonous gas and the power to neglect his own hygiene. This is not always the most effective arsenal to have. Some hunters are prepared to do whatever it takes to bag their game, even if it means liberal applications of cotton wads up the nose.
As ruthless as females are, I maintain that man's worst enemy is his own nonfunctioning brain. If a man's head was working properly, he would be safe no matter what a woman threw his way. As it is, she can talk him into pretty much ANYTHING. This is because a man becomes quite cooperative when his brain convinces him he'll be getting smooches in the near future. We all know how faulty this logic is, but the fact remains that men ARE STILL BEING CAUGHT and domesticated in the same way they were hundreds of years ago.
How does this happen, you ask? It is an intricate process, perfected over the centuries by our rivals, the women. These may seem like innocent steps to the untrained bachelor's eye, but beware. They lead to heartache.
STEP ONE: Going Steady- Hurray for you, you got the girl. Keep your head up and your eyes open at all times or the next thing you know you'll be ...
Gainfully Employed (STEP TWO) - What attractive woman wants to be associated with an unemployed bum? And how can you afford to give her the things she deserves (fancy meals, jewellery, etc.) unless you have some form of reliable cash flow. A talented guy like you should be able to do anything he wants to (except, of course, remain unemployed). Forget hanging out with your friends until all hours of the morning. Forget staying home to watch the back-to-back Seinfeld episodes starting at four each day. You've got something to prove! Go get 'em, champ! And while you're at it, don't forget to...
Change The Hairstyle (STEP THREE) - Probably the thing that attracted your mate to you was your long, rocker-style hair. Now that you have a job, isn't it time that you cut it off? How else will you get a promotion?
Obviously, your girl has a plan. Since your cool locks attracted HER, chances are that they will continue to attract females (you can't just turn something like that off). Now that you have been captured, you must be identified as "off the market." In biological circles, we call this being tagged.
STEP FOUR -Buying and wearing neckties- Accessories are necessary when one wants to make a fashion statement. Usually, a necktie says: "Doofus." The necktie's only function is to make you realize how desperately you need someone to help you match clothes before you leave the house for the job you just got. How fortunate that you happen to know someone who is willing to perform this function every day of your life.
STEP FIVE -Getting Married- I happen to love the institution of marriage. Having said that, I must admit that when my friend Stoobie told me HE was getting married, my response was, "Why?" In fact, that's what EVERY MARRIED MALE SAID TO HIM. Single guys don't realize that going from bachelorhood to couplehood is like going from golf to baseball: the importance of 'swinging' is replaced by the need to just 'head home.'
STEP SIX -Bedspreads- "WE'RE SPENDING HOW MUCH ON BLANKETS?? WELL, NOBODY ELSE SHOULD BE IN OUR BEDROOM!! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY WE BOTHER TO MAKE THE BED. WE'RE JUST GOING TO MESS IT UP IN A FEW HOURS ANYWAYS!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT A PORTION OF MY SALARY IS GOING TOWARDS SOMETHING CALLED A 'SHAM'!" STEP SEVEN -Cleaning Out Your Drawers- Somehow, your new wife will get the idea that in order to make more space for the blanket accessories she just purchased, she must get rid of all of your old clothes. Now, granted, some of your clothes ARE pretty ragged. You may, in fact, have underwear that is held together by no more than a handful of underwear molecules. You may have concert t-shirts that don't fit you and haven't since cassettes were all the rage. HOWEVER, they are souvenirs that remind you of how much of a stud you once were. Prepare to lose them all.
STEP EIGHT -Having Kids-There is no part of a man's life that so aptly contrasts his former greatness to his present situation than the raising of a family. Childbirth, potty training, stomach flu ... they all help to wipe away whatever remainder of coolth he had been saving. The icing on the cake is hating Barney, realizing that you know most of his songs and hating yourself.
STEP NINE -Getting Fixed- As soon as your wife decides that you are both done having kids, your last vestige of 'guyness' will be threatened. Discussion is futile.
You: "Honey, why don't YOU get fixed. It's easier."
Her: "I don't think so. Besides, I've done my 'hospital time' by bringing YOUR three children into this world."
You: "So you're used to being in the hospital. In fact, I bet you're a pro!"
Her: "Nice try. How about this: you don't touch me until the doctor 'touches' you."
You: "Don't make me choose between my two best friends."
Her: "See you when you get back!"
CHAPTER 2In The End, It's Just A Little Nip N Tuck
A vasectomy is to a group of men what childbirth is to a group of women: a shared crisis which brings them together. Of course, when you're young (and stupid) you don't think that kind of thing will ever concern you. After all, you are a man. If someone that you are married to wants to protect herself from getting pregnant, then she can just go get herself fixed. However, once one is married, one starts hearing the whispers of reality. Older husbands that you know and respect are overheard talking about "making the appointment." Senior staff members disappear from work for days at a time, only to return with a strange new love for frozen vegetables. This is nature's way of arousing a man's curiosity and, at the same time, preparing him for what must inevitably befall his person, as it were.
In many ways, I'm lucky that my wife knows me like the back of her hand. In fact, the back of her hand and I are well acquainted. Unfortunately, in this instance that relationship did not work to my advantage. In fact, I believe that I may have been downright manipulated into something that I'm not sure I wanted to do.
For the past year or so, we were debating as to whether we were done having kids. Husbands and wives use different data for making that decision. Husbands ask themselves questions like: "Do I feel like changing more diapers?", "When will I get to sleep through the night?" and "How soon can we kick the kids out so that my wife and I can get frisky?" Wives, on the other hand, are not rational at all. They do things like watch home movies; memorize Long Distance commercials and buy Anne Geddes calendars. These things should not be the basis for making life (and body) altering decisions.
As you know, the debate was put to rest when my wife got herself pregnant. Actually, being pregnant really did bring us to a resolution: "AAUGH! My legs! My back! This is DEFINITELY the last one!"
Having finally made a decision, I could breathe a sigh of relief. That is, until I discovered the exact consequences of that decision: "You need to make an appointment with the doctor. It's time."
Now let me just warn you guys that once a woman makes up her mind in this regard, nothing you can say will change it. In fact, the more you try to reason with her, the tougher she gets.
YOU: "Honey, I'm not sure this is a good idea."
HER: "Oh, it's a good idea alright. If you think that I'm going to push THREE children out of me AND THEN go in to get fixed, you've got another think coming!"
From this point, the conversation degrades into a long and descriptive diatribe of each child's delivery. To avoid getting nauseous, you make the stupid appointment. Even so, you are apprehensive of the course of action you seem to be on. Your mind is racing for a scheme that will get you out of this predicament. However, your wife KNOWS you and how your little brain works. No amount of thinking on your part could prepare you for the next day WHEN YOUR WIFE CHANGES HER MIND.
HER: "Honey, maybe you were right. Maybe we should wait. This baby is sooo cute. I would hate for it to be the last one ..."
YOU: "WHAT?! You want MORE? No way! I'm getting fixed!" And with that, you have suddenly sealed the deal. Perhaps when they are "fixing" you, they can do something about that faulty brain of yours, as well.
CHAPTER 3Tales From The Crypt Of The Snipped
A man's worst enemy, besides his own faulty brain, is the male sense of humor. It represents THE OTHER voice in his head that he should most always ignore, but never does. A good example of this is his tendency to rib her about her cooking while her in-laws are over for dinner. Another is the concept of 'streaking'.
The worst (and best) of a guy's sense of humor becomes apparent when discussing the process of Getting Fixed. There has never been a clearer separation of groups within the male species: Those Who Are Snipped and Those Who Will Be.
Those Who Are Snipped have the definite advantage. They are older, wiser and more experienced. They have been through everything, will tell you anything and care nothing. There is nothing more fun to a "Snipped" person (or capon) than to regale his Unsnipped audience with stories of surgeries past, full of metaphors involving ordinary household objects like tennis balls, bowling balls and grapefruit. And believe me, every "steer" has a story.
My buddy Corey's advice was to pick your surgeon carefully. Make an error here and you gain an intimate perspective on the aforementioned household objects.
On the other hand, my buddy R.W. advised me to stock up on certain medical supplies beforehand: "You need four or five bags of frozen peas. Not broccoli, not carrots. Peas. Specifically Green Giant brand. And tighty-whiteys. And track pants. You need a mixture of coolness, tightness and looseness. And don't plan on leaving the couch for at least three days." "I understand the need for special clothing," I said, "but are the frozen peas THAT necessary?" He nodded vigorously. "They saved my life! I still can't look at the Green Giant without feeling warm in my heart and sick to my stomach."
If the horror stories are too effective, that may scare you away. The "Snipped" do not want this. As fun as it is to frighten you, the uninitiated, they still want you to go through with the operation. This reinforces the old axiom: "Misery loves company." It's kind of like a dog saying to his friends: "The leash" LOVE IT! It's really the best thing that ever happened to me. You should try one. It would look great on you!"
When my buddy Rob was thinking about having it done, he consulted with a friend of his. "It's no big deal!" his friend assured him. "In fact, I mowed my lawn the next day and I've got a five acre lot." After the operation, as Rob was lying in the fetal position on the couch, he phoned his friend again.
Rob: "Hey, I just want to say that I really respect you. I just got snipped and I'm dying here. I can't believe that you could mow your entire lawn after this operation."
Friend: "Oh that. I was just pulling your leg. Five acres of lawn would have killed me. Ha ha ha!"
Rob: "I think two "acres" will be the death of me."
So far, this should seem like a bad idea. Unfortunately, my brain is telling me that if THEY can do it, I can do it. And it probably won't even hurt me. To get a knowledgeable opinion that I can trust (since I can't really trust my friends OR my own brain), I decided to pay a visit to my old friend, Dr. Joe.
Me: "So, what can you tell me about Getting Snipped?" Dr. Joe: "What? Vasectomies? There's nothing to it."
Me: "What do you mean, 'nothing'?"
Dr. Joe: "Well, it's a simple procedure. A small incision. A few cuts and you're done. Ha ha!"
Me: "What do you mean: 'done'?"
Dr. Joe: "Do you want me to make you an appointment?"
Me: "Do you know the doctor personally? On a first-name basis? Did he take care of you?"
Dr. Joe: "Oh, I myself haven't had it done."
Me: "WHAT??? YOU haven't had it done? Well, I'M sure not getting it done."
My Wife: "Whoa there, big boy. Let's all just take a deep breath and settle down. You've already said that you would."
Me: "I curse my faulty brain."
My Wife: "It's not your brain that's the trouble here."
All the way home, I tried my darndest to use Dr. Joe as a reason to renege on my promise.
Me: "But dear, if a medical professional doesn't do it, it bears looking into. Doesn't it make you a wee bit paranoid? Kind of like a cook who refuses to eat his own soup."
My Wife: "Maybe he's Catholic..."
Me: "How come they get off so easily? I wonder if they're accepting new members...."
As it is, if I don't convert I'll go through with it. I swear, though, that when it's MY turn to explain the whole procedure to some terrified schmuck, I won't take advantage of him.
Unless it's really, really funny.
CHAPTER 4The Deed Is Done
There are many sources out there who will tell you this and that. Know that you can count on me and my journal to give you the straight up on how the whole Surgical Procedure goes "down."
I have to say that I wasn't really nervous about going to the hospital. It didn't bother me to think about having an operation, even an operation "down there." I must confess, though, that for the preceding few days, the STRANGEST thoughts ran through my head: what if my wife loses all interest in me, now that I have been truly 'domesticated'; what if the Red Chinese take over and have no use for 'men' who cannot produce slaves for their evil purposes; what if I develop 'Man Breasts?'
My appointment was set for 10:30 am. The trip to the hospital was full of instruction for post-op care.
Me: "So after you drop me off, what are you going to do?"
My Wife: "(sigh) Buy three bags of Green Giant frozen peas."
Me: "And?"
My Wife: "Go to the video store and rent six DVD's for you. Honestly honey, do you really think you are going to have time to watch SIX movies?"
Me: "I'd better have."
As soon as I was dropped off, everything went like clockwork.
10:30 -Saunter into the hospital as cool as a cucumber, as it were. Look for the admitting desk.
10:32 -Find an elderly volunteer. "Can I help you?" she asks. "Yes, I'm here for a vasectomy." I reply. She gets flustered and runs away. "That was fun," I think to myself. I decide that if the opportunity presents itself, I'll find another volunteer and do it again.
10:37 -The nurse in admitting takes my 'information.' "I'm here to see Dr. John. We don't have to discuss why." "Oh, I know why you're here," she says. "Now you'll see what we women have to go through every time we have a baby."
10:50 -Along with my nifty new bracelet, I hurry off in search of the Day Surgery Ward, which is simply "straight ahead, veer left, down the ramp, through the doors and on the fifth floor..." A voice inside tells me that now would be a good time to run. I wonder if cattle feel a real sense of purpose as they await their turn to meet Oscar Meyer.
11:00 - "WELCOME TO DAY SURGERY!" A nurse gives me some little blue pills, then takes my blood pressure, height, weight, pulse and next of kin.
Me: "Why do you need THAT?"
Nurse Lynn: "Oh, ha ha! Just a formality! By the way, is everything shaved?"
Me: "Yes. I did a wonderful job. You don't need to check. I have to tell you, though, it's making me VERY uncomfortable."
Nurse Lynn: "Well, now you know what women go through when they shave their bikini line for you."
Me: "For the record, I've never requested that."
11:07 - Spend ten minutes trying to tie my gown behind my back. Pray I am not on Candid Camera.
11:17 -I lay in bed, idly wondering important things like what was in those little blue pills, where the sun comes from and whether or not trees dream.
11:30 -I awaken in the operating room. I feel it necessary to introduce myself to all twelve nurses looking at my undercarriage.
Dr. John: "What did you do to your legs?"
Me: "Well, I had a little time on my hands and drew some arrows, in case you got lost. By the way, who's got the munchies?"
11:40 -Pin prick. Pin prick.
12:03 -Dr John: "Well, that's it. We're done."
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Halfway to Crazy"
by .
Copyright © 2007 Mark Thrice.
Excerpted by permission of Morgan James Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
The Nine Steps,
In The End-It's Just A Little Nip N Tuck,
Tales From The Crypt Of The Snipped,
The Deed Is Done,
Home Free After A Delicate Procedure,
The Little Engine That Wanted Some Friends ... For $14.95,
A Fine Kettle,
Yippee A Chivaree!,
A Nair-Ow Miss,
A Visit From Mr. Nose Whistle,
Avoiding Household Dangers,
Baking 101,
A Small Dose Of Golf,
A Little Camping Advice,
Christmas Traditions,
Muskoka Vacation,
Putting The Man In Romance,
Remembering Granny,
Dog Days On The Catwalk,
Clothes Make The Man ... Crazy,
When Saturday Morning Meant Scooby Doo,
Karate Krisis,
Kids And Colds,
Mark's Close Friend Says Goodbye,
Hip To Country Music,
Love Marches To The Golden Arches,
Family Milestones,
Wheels Inn,
Selective Hearing,
To Tell The Truth, I Swear,
Trouble Over Bridged Waters,
The Stages Of The Chicken Pox,
Evaluating Life Post-Secondary School,
Cool 101,
Parlez-Vous Francais?,
The Guinea Pigs,
Being A Super Husband,
Maxims For Parenting,
Central Air Conditioning,
Convenient Financing,
2001 Space Dentistry,
There Goes The Neighborhood,
Diary Of A Pregnant Husband,
Smart Parenting For Guys,
Happy Father's Day,
Babies For Dummies,
Baby Steps,
Birthday Party Payback,
Diary Of An Itchy Madman,
Expecting The Unexpected,
The Expecting Mother,
My Father's Day Letter,
Financial Planning,
Hooked On Fishing,