An Unnecessary Burden

You'd think, on a day that saw the Minnesota Vikings earn a playoff berth on a 51 yard field goal as time expired, The Common Man would be more gleeful. However, he just finished a long trek back across the United States, starting in the American desert and finishing in the deep freeze. He is tired and cranky and ready for bed, but figured he owed a quick post to the lot of you after snapping out of his post-Christmas fugue. The travel itself was not terrible. Both flights were on time, The Boy behaved beautifully on both, and The Common Man even got time to read a little (an atrocious book about Babe Ruth).

The Common Man always gears up for travel days. Like most of you out there, The Common Man takes packing and carrying his luggage very seriously, wanting to get most of it done at least 24 hours in advance and to efficiently use the space and the 50 lbs. limit judiciously for his two free pieces of luggage. He was largely successful this time around, as he got both cases up to 49.5 lbs of clothes and presents, before backing off, and added just a large bag to his family's pile of carry-ons (which included a stroller, a carseat, a diaper bag, a briefcase, a backpack, and two jackets) to get presents back home.

The Uncommon Wife, however, hates travel days. And she hates them mostly because The Common Man gears up for them. He gets anxious and paces. He reminds her that he needs her makeup bag before he can pack any more. He packs things that she wants to wear. It's not that The Common Man is stressed, per se, he just wants everything to go perfectly in the traveling. For it is during the journey that men like The Common Man see an opportunity to prove themselves. To show how manly and awesome and completely necessary they are to the family unit. If they pack just right, if they manage to not forget a single thing, if they carry three bags and a carseat through the airport, their wives will see just how indispensible they are and will be reminded of the manly virility that made them so attractive in the first place. And so The Common Man straps on the backpack, carries the carseat in the crook of his elbow, and balances a briefcase in one hand and a shopping bag in the other as he races between terminals to go from one plane to the next. He enjoys playing the pack mule, enjoys showing off like an ape wooing a mate, and likes demonstrating he's an absolutely crucial cog in the family machine in this way that his completely transparent obviously.

The Uncommon Wife, God bless her, plays along. Even though it drives her nuts and she rightly argues that she can carry a backpack and push the stroller at the same time, she lets The Common Man have his day, knowing how important for her man to get the day just right, even when getting it right means that she's more than a little frazzled by her husband's neuroses. So men, if you strain under the weight of those bags, the ones you don't have to carry but feel that honor demands you carry, think of the significant other who makes that possible. Who wants to help, but won't because they realize taking a single pound off your back will bruise your ego. And give thanks for the woman who lets you act like a man. Even when you're being an idiot about it.

Around the Horn

Over at The Mantuary, The Founding Father has featured perhaps the manliest product The Common Man has seen in a long time. It's small, powerful, practical, and affordable. It is, ladies and gentlemen, the pocket chainsaw. Just how it works is a mystery to The Common Man, as The Founding Father was a little light on the details. However, he claims that it allowed him to fell his own Christmas tree in 58 seconds flat (impressive, indeed). It also is small enough to fit in your pocket, making it ideal to take on camping trips or for any other occasions you think you might need to pull a chainsaw out of your pocket (which happens to The Common Man at least once a day. And at just $22 on Amazon, The Common Man challenges any real man to not get one. How can anyone with testosterone possibly resist?


The Art of Manliness is always abundant with advice and information for the manly man, but was particularly impressive this week, as they explained both how to be a good party guest and how to dress appropriately for a job interview. Given that The Common Man and The Uncommon Wife really enjoy entertaining, he appreciated the party guest advice, and hopes some of his future guests were paying attention. And he hopes that no one spills a gravy boat of orange sauce on the floor, and grinds pink frosting into the carpet without telling anyone at future parties. That cost The Common Man a security deposit once. Also, buried deep in the comments of the interview post, one man's sad secret is revealed, that he has no idea how to tie a tie. The mind reels at the thought.

Shysterball has spent a lot of words going over just how hypocritical and corrupt the New York Yankess and the New York City government have been over the construction of the new Yankee Stadium that is scheduled to open next spring. And now, he has proof in the form of emails. According to Juan Gonzalez of the Daily News, "In March 2006, the city's chief tax assessor put the market value for the stadium site at $27 million, far lower than the Yankees wanted. A Finance Department official ordered him to redo the report. Within hours, he jacked up it up to $204 million." This allowed the Yankees to qualify for almost a $1 billion in tax-exempt bonds. As Shysterball says, "New Yankee Stadium is built on a foundation of graft." In tough economic times, this particular pickpocketing of the public coffers is tough to take, especially since the Major League Baseball in general, and the Yankees in particular, are flush with cash. Their financial outlook is entirely different from the Big Three automakers and big banks, whose bailout The Common Man tends to support.


The Common Man may be out of touch tomorrow. But he'll try to check back in tomorrow night. If he can't, he'll see you beautiful people on Mondahy. A manly day of football to you all. Go Vikings!

Blowing In the Breeze

The Common Man grew up in and around snow. He enjoys snow. He has enjoyed taking The Boy out into the snow and teaching him about snow angels and snow balls. When the snow is wet enough, he will enjoy teaching The Boy about snow men. He even enjoys shoveling, as it's good exercise. But today, as The Common Man spent more than an hour and a half shoveling a foot of snow off his driveway and sidewalk, he almost made a run for it. Fortunately, The Common Man has a manly amount of patience and warm weather seems far, far away. So he stayed put.


As a result of the shoveling, tonight The Common Man is sore and tired. His arms and legs ache, and he has a cramping feeling in the small of his back (though it's not nearly as painful as realizing his self-imposed moratorium on political blogging means he won't be talking about the trolls in California who want to nullify those same-sex marriages already on the books). It's enough to make The Common Man reconsider The Uncommon Wife's suggestion to buy a snowblower.

Sure, The Common Man would get less exercise, but as he watched his neighbors, one-by-one, breeze through their driveways, The Common Man was forced to reconsider his position. Think of the time saved! Think of the fun of pushing around an awesome and loud piece of equipment, seeing the snow fly in a high arc off the driveway and into the yard.

The Common Man, however, has dedicated himself to being as manly and awesome as he can be. So this raises the question, is it manlier to shovel or to snowblow? On the one hand, physical activity is entirely manly. Even in the snow, it's possible to work up a good sweat. And though your muscles burn and back aches as you return the shovel to the garage, you have the manly satisfaction of knowing you have done good work. On the other, guys love their toys. A big, powerful snowblower would totally be manly, wouldn't it?

The Common Man solicits your opinions in the comments below. Shovel or snowplow? And feel free to vote in the new poll on the right.

The Common Man Givith...

It has never happened before, but in light of recent events, The Common Man is forced to strip the television executives in charge of the Sunny Side Up Show on Sprout TV of their hard-won Beacon of Manhood. It's not that they have done anything wrong necessarily. Kelly is still bubbly and adorable, and the show still entertains The Boy. But someone far more deserving has come to The Common Man's attention, such that he is unable to justify selfishly awarding the Beacon to a bunch of soulless TV execs who cast a hot girl for their morning program.

Who could have the pull to so drastically alter The Common Man's plans? His name is Earl Stafford. If you haven't heard of him before now, that's ok. He's not a famous man. And he hasn't done anything earth-shattering like curing a disease or inventing the flying car. No, his claim to manliness is far more humble. He's just a wonderfully generous man.

According to CNN.com, Stafford "has spent $1 million to give hundreds of poverty-stricken and terminally ill Americans, along with wounded men and women in uniform, an inauguration experience that would ordinarily run each of them thousands of dollars or more." Stafford's plans for his guests include "high-end hotel rooms and luxury suites, food and drink, a (heated) viewing spot right above the parade route, even gowns and tuxedos to wear to celebratory balls, and a beautician to help [them] get ready for it." He is also prepared to lay out another $600,000 to pay for meals and private balls for those he is bringing to Washington.

Why? Stafford told the Washington Post,

"We wanted to...bless those who otherwise wouldn't have an opportunity to be a part of the great celebration, the inauguration and the festivities. Our objective is to bring in a cross-section of society — those who are distressed, those who are terminally ill, those who are socially and economically disadvantaged, those veterans who are wounded and served our country.... We've gotten away from those core values that made America great. We just need to get back to caring about one another."

Barack Obama's inauguration is "a transition in history, if you will...and everyone should be included."

Look, professional douchebags like Sean Hannity have done a lot to pervert what the phrase "great American," in the last few years, as though what you believe is a far greater criteria than what you do. Stafford, through his generosity, his patriotism, and his good will is the perfect embodiment of what Americanism and masculinity should be. Good job, Earl Stafford. You sir, are a great American as well as a great man. And, if you have a couple extras, could you send a couple tickets The Common Man's way?

Saturday Beer Review: Point Einbock

Mother Nature has kindly resolved The Common Man's conflict this week, postponing Game 3 of the World Series, and allowing The Common Man to college football without guilt or the fear that he'll miss something switching back and forth. Indeed, the conflictingly scheduled game is the bane of the sports fan's existence, leading to self-doubt (which game should you be watching?), disappointment (you missed the double-reverse, flea-flicker TD pass), and, worst of all, bad karma (as the game you decide is most important to you will ultimately end poorly).

To celebrate his reprieve, The Common Man cracked open a Point Einbock, a local brew out of Stephen's Point, WI, that The Common Man had sampled a few weeks back. Indeed, hoping to improve his karma and his manly rooting talents, The Common Man knew he needed to drink a big beer, one with full body and flavor. Indeed, to have the testosterone to root properly, The Common Man strongly believes that only good, strong beer will prime your manly pump. Indeed, any beer drunk solely on the basis of its "drinkability" will leave your rooter on empty by the start of the third quarter.

Point's website brags that its Einbock "is hand-crafted utilizing the finest Munich and Vienna styles of specialty malts with a blend of Bavarian Hallertauer hops." It starts relatively smooth and flavorful, but has a strong bite on the back end. Still, the bite is not overbearing nor does it discourage further consumption. Rather, its a reminder to slow down and enjoy the beer's ample caramel and fruit flavors. It is a manly bite, sure to put hair on your chest and drop your voice by at least an octave. Perfect for gameday.

Shooting From the...Hip?

There he was, minding his own business, trying to play a game of Scrabble on Facebook, when The Common Man was contacted by a friend he hadn't talked to in a couple years. Back in the heady days of his youth, The Common Man and this friend had been poker buddies, and The Common Man still, probably, owes him five bucks or something. Figuring his friend was reconnecting in order to collect, The Common Man did the honorable thing and responded.



No, it seems the friend had forgotten about the bad debt, and was simply interested in saying "hey" and talking about where life had taken the two of them. This friend, it seems, is expecting his second child with his lovely wife and, while he's excited about the upcoming addition, is also somewhat frightened. Apparently both children have been a surprise to the happy couple, and this friend is actively considering the radical solution of a vasectomy to insure that no other little surprises befall them.

And, so, that's basically where the conversation ends up. After all, what do you say to an old buddy who shows up out of the blue and tells you he's considering a vasectomy? After a few more minutes of banter and exposition (with The Common Man telling his life story), The Common Man and his friend parted online ways and vowed to stay in better touch in the future (as old friends who randomly reconnect invariably do).

At this point, though, The Common Man is a little taken aback. He's had to face his own mortality a few times this year. Tearing up his knee, feeling various new aches and pains (what's that dull ache in The Common Man's knuckles as he types?), and turning 30 have conspired to make The Common Man acutely aware of the passage of time and his gradual push toward the old. Now, on top of that, The Common Man is surprised to learn about the first of his contemporaries to (soon) have themselves snipped. To actively decide to have no more kids and to take steps to make it happen. As The Common Man and The Uncommon Wife move forward, they both feel strongly that they'd like to have more than just The Boy, and can't imagine deciding, at this juncture, that they're ready to start the process of stopping being a parent. It's simply unfathomable to them. But there it is, a smart and thoughtful friend from out of the blue has shattered The Common Man's perception of life and of time and has informed him that, indeed, it's ok to start thinking about getting the Big V someday and has caused him to contemplate its interaction.

The Common Man, for all his manliness, simply is not sure how he would handle that kind of decision, when the day comes. Frankly, The Common Man values his intactness and is unsure he wants to lose that. And the prospect of asking someone to take away his potency seems simply unbecoming of a real man. Indeed, if he were to lose said potency carrying several elderly people out of a burning rest home, he would probably be ok with it. But choosing to lose an essential part of his manhood? That seems like the wrong choice when he has plenty of other options for making sure that life springs forth not from his loins.

Also, scalpels near that part of the male anatomy is the one fear that's ok for real men to wince at and run from. Especially since the procedure is typically done with a local anesthetic and you are awake throughout. No thanks.

A Crappy Job

The first and best role model any boy can have is his father, of course. From watching dad, boys can learn how to treat a woman, how to raise a family, and what constitutes responsible behavior. However, because no one really wants to become their father, boys are forced to look elsewhere for additional examples of manhood. They look to their teachers and their friends. They look to popular culture and they look to history. And, perhaps above all, they look to professional sports. Most sports are traditionally masculine to some degree, teaching competitiveness and camaraderie, sportsmanship and fairness. And a healthy respect for following and breaking the rules. And with their impressive skills and physiques, athletes look the part of the man, usually far more so than a boy's father. It's easy to understand why boys look up to them.

And so, millions of boys in every generation aspire not just to be athletes like their heroes, but to be their heroes. But no one, at that age, really has any idea what their heroes are like when they aren't in the public eye. And so, those knowledge gaps are filled with versions of their idols conforming to whatever ideal of manhood the boy has, forgetting that many of their idols are in their early 20s (barely men themselves) and (by the nature of the environment they inhabit and how they've been treated) are essentially overgrown adolescents anyway.

Indeed, it is impossible for any generation to truly know its idols (at least until the biopic comes out. Not Mohammad Ali, not Mickey Mantle. Not Evel Knievil, not Reggie Jackson. Not Michael Jordan, not Kirby Puckett. Not Albert Pujols, Greg Maddux, Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, or Michael Phelps. Indeed, except for very brief moments, you don't get to see the man behind the athlete's curtain. Unless you can walk a mile in their shoes, you'll never know exactly what kind of men they are/were.

And, it turns out, you may not want to walk a mile in their shoes. In a delightfully candid moment, Hall of Fame 3B George Brett pulled back the magic curtain that separates Brett the man from Brett the ballplayer, and you find out what George Brett does to his shoes (and his pants). The results are not safe for work (though they are relatively quiet). (note: the embedded video has been repaired)


(h/t to Shysterball)

Thousands of 30-40 year olds in Kansas City are weeping openly today as The Common Man writes this. Perhaps that curtain is best left where it is.

Now, who's the pitcher for this game?

Fishing For Answers

Normally, when The Common Man is off and about in the morning, doing the things that he does, his radio dial stays in the NPR range, with some sports-talk thrown in to keep him honest. After all, The Common Man is at an age where it's probably not appropriate to be headbanging to "Welcome to the Jungle" while trying to steer an automobile away from other cars and pedestrians. Since your reaction time cuts down as you get older, that's just good sense.

But this morning, The Common Man needed to take The Uncommon Wife in to work, since their other car has decided to need break fluid. So, this morning, The Common Man listened to Bonnie and the Beaver on his way in and became embroiled in the following problem. A man wrote to the Beaver asking for advice (for who has better wisdom and knowledge to impart than an AM DJ?) about his girlfriend. The man, say his name is Bob, is 33 and has recently moved in with his 41 year old girlfriend. They both have kids of comparable ages, share common interests, never "EVER" fight, and presumably share a blissful existence. Except, however, that Bob wants to have another child (and from the sound of it, wants to have it yesterday), while his beloved "can't" have any kids. And he wonders; as he comes to a man who calls himself "Fish" in public, and to those who would religiously listen to the Beaver Monday-Friday, 5:30-10:00 AM, what should he do about this?

The Common Man's advice is simple: First, DO NOT WRITE TO A MORNING DISC JOCKEY AND HIS AUDIENCE FOR ADVICE!!! After all, if your beloved is as sympatico as the man seems to indicate, chances are she's listening and thinking, "Hey, I'm 41. And Bob's 33. And we both have kids. And he wants to have more and I 'can't.' Dammit, Bob, you dumbass!" Plus, her friends and his friends are listening and putting two and two together, particularly since Bob seems like the kind of guy who can't go 15 minutes without telling you something awkward and revealing about himself (he is, after all, discussing he and his girlfriends reproductive options (and her apparent shortcomings) with thousands of listeners in Southern Wisconsin).

So, yeah, shut up Bob. The kinds of answers that you and millions of other Americans seek to aleve you of the burden of making decisions are not simple. They are context specific, different for each and every person depending on where and how they find themselves in life. It's one thing to seek advice from a close friend with whom you can talk out pros and cons and who can help you to make your decision, but to rely on the 60 second advice of a man named Beaver, his chain-smoking, bar-hopping, is 40 but dresses 20 and sounds 55 sidekick, and their shallow debate about whether you're "selfish" or if this is a "deal-breaker" is ludicrous, not to mention the waffling of their loyal, chipper followers ("On the one hand I think he's selfish and he don't deserve her, but on the other hand, I can definitely understand the desire to have more kids and think he may need to get a surrogate. I don't know what I'd do. Why did I call again?").

Cameron Schaefer, at Schaefer's Blog, talked the other day about Americans needing to take responsibility for their actions, and The Common Man thinks that part of that is to take responsibility for the decision making process. So many people seem to look to Oprah or Dr. Phil or Tyra or the Beaver for how to behave, how to act, and what to do. They turn to that angry guy on CNBC to find out where they should invest or to that angry guy on FoxNews to figure out who they should be angry at. Why? Why is there such a desire to seek the advice of others and not use the good sense God gave?

Manliness demands that you take responsibility for your life at all stages, not just the end product. That takes work. Work that no one else can do for you. All the advice Dr. Phil or the Beaver can give you isn't worth an ounce of that little voice in your head, Bob, telling you what the right thing to do is.

Twin Killing

The Common Man wants to preface this discussion by pointing out that John Edwards, the former presidential and vice-presidential candidate, is an absolute slimeball. To cheat on your wife is bad enough, but to do so while she is battling cancer is a low to which even the lowest men won't sink. You, sir, are a bad husband and father to have put your wife and children through this, and The Common Man hopes that you take every opportunity to make this as easy on them as you possibly can.

That said, this post isn't really about John Edwards. He's scum, but really no different from other prominent politicians who have cheated on their wives (off the top of The Common Man's head, Bill Clinton, Newt Gingrich, Elliot Spitzer, and, yes, John McCain). On a side note, is it that these guys are so deficient in this area of their lives that they feel they need to make up for it by becoming "great" elsewhere? Is that what drives them? The feeling of inadequacy for not being a decent man?

Anyway, this post isn't about them, it's about Rush Limbaugh, the aging mouthpiece of the Old Right, who recently suggested that Edwards's infidelity was Elizabeth Edwards's fault. The Common Man will let Keith Olberman take it from here, briefly:



Finally, it's about time that someone took these women to task for forcing their husbands to cheat with their intelligence and their opinions. And, finally, someone is putting the blame where it squarely belongs, on the victim. Edwards's kids also must share in the blame for being down the hall all the time in their "rooms" while "sleeping." How is a man supposed to get anything done with all that "sleeping" going on.

And it's high time America blames the victims too. After all, so many women wouldn't be raped if they didn't have the temerity, no the sheer audacity, to walk around with vaginas. Indeed, if every woman just left their vaginas at home when they went to a college party or to a bar, there would be a severe plunge in the sexual assault rates in this country.

Rush, of course, has become a caricature of himself, bloated and ornry and loud. The Common Man tries to channel him when he reads Green Eggs and Ham with The Boy, thinking the tone and attitude just perfect for the unnamed Seuss character who's

frightened by new things. But that does not excuse his snide insinuation that cancer-stricken Elizabeth Edwards should "do something with her mouth other than talk" if she wants to keep her man from straying. For picking on cancer victims and for just being a terrible human being, Rush Limbaugh, you ain't no kind of man at all. And you, John Edwards, for opening your wife to such a ridiculous statement from a stain like Limbaugh, you ain't no kind of man neither. The Common Man hereby revokes your manhood and asks you both to just please leave America alone before its Dewmocracy gets any sicker than it already is.

Manhood Endangered

The Common Man was shocked, shocked to find out that the President of the United States, the cowboy-ish, brush-clearin'-est, manly man who doubles as an enthusiastic and shameless Olympics attendee (while his economy is in shambles and his soldiers are at war), is prone to equally enthusiastic and shameless unmanliness. Indeed, for eight years now, though The Common Man has never been overly pleased with who was running the show, he at least believed that the President was a decent man.

Then, today, comes the news that, while he's out of town, his administration they will sweep away with 35 years of precedent and cut the heart out of the Endangered Species Act with the



stroke of the President's pen. According to the memo leaked to the Associated Press, "The Bush administration wants federal agencies to decide for themselves whether highways, dams, mines and other construction projects might harm endangered animals and plants." The current rules require all federal agencies to consult the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service to determine whether their projects pose a risk to already endangered animals. The President's proposal argues that it's better to bumble blindly ahead, rather than "err on the side of caution."

What is particularly troubling, however, is just how cowardly the President's proposal is. Though famously elected with a surplus of "political capital" to spend, President Bush has squandered his capital through his administration's deception and mismanagement. And because he does not have the will or ability to win a public debate on what will undoubtedly be, at least initially, an unpopular policy, the President chooses to ignore his obligation to listen to his constituents and thumb his nose at his opponents in the Congress.

His action is akin to leaving a saloon, and firing a parting shot before riding out of town. Instead of sticking around for a fight, the President is planning to radically shift federal policy four months before he runs out of town, leaving a fight for the next guy.

Don't get The Common Man wrong, there is manliness in doing what you know is right, and damning the consequences. Had the administration done this three years ago, it would have been manly, because his decision would have had real consequences for him. But a man must be willing to stand up for his convictions, rather than ducking out of the room after starting trouble. Congress is in recess and has little time to mount any kind of organized response. It's ultimately another disappointment from a disappointing presidency. But it's the one that finally makes The Common Man say, Mr. President, you are ultimately a coward. And you ain't no kind of man at all.

Mother's Little Helper

The Common Man feels not well today. A swelled throat area, combined with a hacking cough, and stuffled nose have conspired to make him feel like crap (though he is not sick, The Common Man does not get sick). At some point, he took some Dayquil, and it's probably time to do that again.

The Common Man realizes that Nyquil would be more effective at relieving his runny nose, aching, sore throat, and cough (or at least would knock him out so he wouldn't have to deal with it). But he can't bring himself to take it. First, to do so would be an admission that he couldn't handle his symptoms like a man. That he couldn't Gary Cooper his way through it. Second, The Common Man really doesn't like to feel the woozies. He doesn't mind feeling the "buzz" of alcohol, but the woozies of drugs give him pause.

He remembers back to his first knee surgery and how the narcotics (Vicadin, if he remembers correctly) made him nauseous and sleepy. The Common Man likes to be awake, and aware of his surroundings. If he ever is attacked by a ninja, The Common Man wants to be ready for it. Even if it means defending himself with a roundhouse kick from his soft cast. Sure, Chuck Norris probably would get here in time to save The Common Man (he is Chuck Norris, after all), but he's awfully busy busting up drug cartels, freeing POWs, and rescuing kittens, and The Common Man really doesn't want to add to his burden. It is hard, after all, to be the manliest man in the land. The least The Common Man can do is take care of his own ninja problems (of which there are many).

Anyway, The Common Man's aversion to pain meds will undoubtedly make the recovery from his upcoming knee surgery interesting. He survived last time on his mom's TLC and 800 mg of Ibuprofin at a time. Something similar is planned for this go around, but The Common Man is a little older and a little wiser than when he was 17. So, the upshot is, while The Common Man will hold off on the Nyquil for now and take his symptoms (but not his illness, The Common Man IS NOT SICK!) like a man, if anyone out there has access to Chuck Norris' itinerary in late September, pencil The Common Man in. You can file it under Man, The Common or simply under Ninjas. Chuck will know what it means.

D*#k Flicks: High Noon

There are simply some things that a man has to do, some situations he cannot back down from. And so, The Common Man finally sat down and watched High Noon, the 1952 classic Western starring Gary Cooper, Grace Kelly, and Lloyd Bridges. It's hard to believe that, in 30 years (almost half of which he's had access to cable), The Common Man hadn't seen the film until now. It is, after all, one of the most important and iconic films of the 1950s, perhaps of all time. It boasts perhaps the best example of a real man in a starring role. And it isn't that long anyway, clocking in at less than an hour and a half. You'd think The Common Man could have spared an 90 minutes at some point in his life for such a juicy film. But no, you'd have been wrong.

You can tell from the start that things will go poorly for Cooper's Will Kane, an aging town marshall who is giving up his badge after succeeding in restoring Hadleyville to a measure of peaceful law and order. In the first scene, Kane is getting married to a Quaker, played by Grace Kelly in her first starring role. Any story that starts with a wedding can't go well, even if that wedding is to Grace Kelly (mmm...Grace Kelly). As the supposed pinnacle of love, devotion, and happiness (hi, honey!), the wedding is a culmination of good, it is the end point. If it's the journey's beginning, everything must go downhill from there.

Indeed, word soon comes that local ruffians, who Kane sent to the gallows, have been pardoned and are on their way back. Kane's friends, the town's most prominent citizens, scoot he and his wife out the door, hoping there will be no trouble. But Kane can't run. He tells his wife, "It's no good. I've got to go back.... They're making me run. I've never run from anybody before." And so he turns around. His wife demands to know why he'd risk his life, knowing that she abhors violence and that he's inviting a confrontation. He tells her, knowing she won't understand, "I've got to. That's the whole thing."

Indeed, Kane knows that a real man cannot run from his responsibilities. He knows that trouble will follow him unless he meets it head on. He knows that there are simply some things a man has to do. And he returns to Hadleyville to do it.

Knowing he'll need help, he turns to his friends and asks them to become deputies, but they, one-by-one deny him. Some are cowards. Some are greed and covetous. Some deny that the problem exists or hope it will pass them by. And some just don't care. His mentor, who also refuses to fight, tells him that "People gotta talk themselves into law and order before they do anything about it. Maybe because down deep they don't care. They just don't care," and, in this case, he's right. Even his wife abandons his cause, boarding the first train out of town with Kane's ex-girlfriend. He becomes a Christ-like figure, wandering through town, trying to find anyone to stand with him. But no one will.



Kane faces down his demons and prevails, of course, because he's a bad-ass and because he's a real man. He realizes that often, in the end, men must stand alone and fight their own battles, and he does so with integrity, resilience, bravery and intelligence. In the end, his wife comes back to him and decides her love is stronger than her convictions, and she kills one of his attackers. But as the curtain closes, Kane tosses his badge in the dirt. His faith in humanity and its virtue are gone. Indeed, he is alone. Hemingway must have loved this movie.

Unlike most Westerns, the film is short on action, which occurs in two short bursts at the end. But it ratchets up the suspense by being shot in real time, constantly freezing on clock faces as the seconds tick down to the villains' noon arrival. And it builds its tension by making Kane's situation seem increasingly hopeless as the minutes tick away. He becomes more and more pathetic as he walks through the town, virtually pleading with the townsfolk to do the right thing. But no one will. Finally, at his lowest, he considers leaving, but returns, writes a last letter at his desk, and releases the town drunk from jail. To the end, he remembers his responsibilities and calmly meets his fate. By the time he hits the town streets, letting trouble find him, he has recovered his dignity and is prepared for the inevitable showdown.

By today's standards, perhaps this film would not be a hit. But it shows manhood at its finest, using one of the great manly actors to do it. Kelly's character serves as the prototypical wet blanket female, the forerunner to Talia Shire's Adrian in the Rocky movies. And the brisk, downward spiral may end with Kane's victory over evil, but his soul's defeat at the hands of cowardice and apathy. It's a classic for a reason, a true d*#k flick, and The Common Man awards it two very big balls for modeling true manliness for the rest of us.

Stupid Man Tricks

Unlike most of you, he assumes, The Common Man has never understood the male infatuation with guns. He remembers the first time he shot a handgun, his Uncle Bob (shouldn't every man have an Uncle Bob?) took The Common Man and The Common Man's brother, The Dentist, out into the Arizona desert for a night of camping and shooting at targets. First, he brought out the 9 mm automatic, a rather light gun with little recoil. Very easy to use. He followed that up by showing off his .357 Magnum, a massive revolver that you always should use in conjunction with earplugs. Uncle Bob, however, had forgotten all about the earplugs in his pocket, and neglected to warn The Common Man ahead of time that, the concussive boom of the .357 would render the world mute for a full two minutes while The Common Man's ears rang like the bells of St. Mary's on Sunday.

It would have been nice to have that warning, as the disorientation and ringing prompted The Common Man to put down the firearm on a nearby rock and back away to a safe distance. So ended The Common Man's real interest in shooting things. Grocery stores seem far more practical for The Common Man's carnivorous needs and there is less chance of permanent hearing damage. Plus, how manly is it really to shoot something? Isn't it far more manly simply to pummel your opponent (be they human, animal, vegitable, or mineral) into submission with your powerful fists of fury? It's what Chuck Norris would do, isn't it?

And anyway, it's not like the advocates of gun safety are likely to be able to teach The Common Man much to change his mind:



The Common Man agrees whole-heartedly with the girl who kindly asks officer doofus to put away the assault rifle, since he had just proven he can't be trusted to remember the one in the chamber. The Common Man does support your right to own and operate a firearm, just please don't do it anywhere near him or his son. At least not without earplugs.

Anyway, this brings us to our poll question of the week. Is it manly to use guns (aside from the two you have attached to your shoulders, of course, fellas)? Let the voting begin.

* Yes, The Common Man knows he's blatantly ripping off the "Is it manly..." poll question idea directly from Artofmanliness.com. But plagiarism is the ultimate form of flattery.

In Your Debt

As the American government continues to spend money that it doesn't have, The Common Man is encouraged by a study done by Javelin Strategy & Research that suggests that Americans are beginning to eschew their credit cards in favor of debit cards or, perish the thought, paying in cash. CNN reported in May that, in light of rising food and gas costs, more Americans were having to rely on their friends Visa and MasterCard to get by from month to month. The Federal Reserve reported that, "Americans' credit card debt jumped 6.7% in the first quarter of this year to $957.2 billion. This spike comes despite the fact that nearly one in three banks is tightening guidelines for credit cards." The Javelin study contradicts these findings, reporting that "The sharp decline in credit card spending challenges the popular belief that more Americans are charging basic goods in order to sustain their quality of life. Consumers are making deliberate cutbacks like shopping at superstores, eating out less and watching what they charge. We believe this is because most people have already been impacted by the downturn or they’re anticipating that we haven’t seen the worst of it. It’s very cautious behavior.”

Maybe so, or maybe Americans are getting close to their credit limits, and therefore can't spend more on their cards ("Delinquency rates on credit cards are at their highest rates since 2002," according to CNN.com). But consumers should make dramatic cutbacks on their spending and their debt. After all, two of the largest problems with the financial system in this country, the mortgage crisis and the budget deficit, were caused by people spending money that they did not, and could not hope to, earn. The Common Man has heard the argument that the U.S. economy will suffer if its consumers do not consume and, while that's unfortunate, each family must do what is right for itself, and that certainly involves not carrying around massive debt that will curb Americans' abilities to save for retirement and spend later in life. Despite what the Bush Administration has seemed to argue in the past, it is not every American's civic duty and responsibility to go out and consume. To spend until it hurts. To tear through that paycheck like a little boy tears through corn on the cob.

It's time for Americans to realize that, quite frankly, debt is not manly. Debt takes away your control over your life; you become beholden to others and are at the mercy of their generous spirit. In this case, The Common Man must agree with Proverbs 22:7, which says that "the borrower is the slave of the lenders." Of course, The Common Man is not talking about not borrowing to pay for a home (The Common Man has a common mortgage after all) or for school (especially given the disparity in earning potential for college graduates versus high school graduates, and those with advanced degrees versus those without), but not being a slave to your credit will only help you in the long run, so you don't keep having to make minimum payments into your 90s. Living within your means is the surest way to be the master of your own destiny, rather than subject to the whims of American Express.

If you haven't already, The Common Man suggests you watch the documentary Maxed Out, about the practices of credit card companies, the nature of American debt, and the repercussions of it. Heck, you should probably buy it. With a debit card.

The Common Sportsman

Look, The Common Man loves sports, particularly baseball. And since this is his site, he feels like he should have free reign to write about them. That said, this site really isn't so much about sports as it is about the things guys should do and care about. So, to hedge his bets a little, The Common Man is introducing a new feature, The Common Sportsman. Every so often, he will focus on sports from a man's perspective. Read along and see what he means, as he documents two storms that caught his eye this week, one that you've probably heard about and one you probably haven't (unless you follow baseball like it's a religion).


The first story comes out of Boston. While for most of you, it probably has little immediate impact, people in the Northeast will be foaming at the mouth for the next few days, given the voracious appetites and surly nature of Boston media-types. According to Bob Lobel, the former sports director for local station WBZ, Manny Ramirez may have struck out on purpose in the 9th inning of a tie game, as some form of petulant revenge on the front office of the Red Sox.

Here's the short version of the backstory. Baseball players get to request tickets for their family and friends and anyone who does them a favor from major league teams. Minor leaguers get to do this too, but they get fewer tickets. The tickets become a form of currency, as players use them to exchange for meals, services, whatever. It's a nice perk, but the players generally need to request these tickets a day or so in advance, since they are typically good seats and the home team likes to sell them. In June, while in Houston, Manny asked a member of the team's front office for a large number of tickets, perhaps as many as 20, a few hours before the game. When the team employee informed Manny that he might not be able to fulfill the request, Manny got pissed and shoved the 60-year old to the ground. The Sox heavily fined their leftfielder, and all was, supposedly forgiven.

Lobel, however, got a different story. Upset at the heavy fine, Manny (according to Lobel) began acting out. The highest crime came in a June game against the Yankees, when Manny allegedly laid down. Lobel alleges, "The bat on the shoulder for the three pitches from Mariano Rivera. That was a big [expletive] to the Red Sox after the fine. I'm just telling you ... there are things in the front office that are perceived ... I'm saying that there is a strong feeling that that [three-pitch strikeout] was the message to the Red Sox and it's a strong feeling that that's unacceptable ... there's a feeling that he didn't give it his all, let's put it that way ... I'm just saying the front office has not forgotten that moment. It's akin to Nomar sitting on the bench [in a game in which Derek Jeter dove into the stands at Yankee Stadium in 2004]. It's the same thing. It's an at bat that resonated very strongly in the front office."

Rob Neyer's analysis of Lobel's accusation is that "Manny had been struggling: In his 21 games before July 6, he'd batted .188 with just one homer and 22 strikeouts.... What to make of all this? I don't know. But we might guess that somebody told Lobel about the fine, and that somebody suggested to him that MannyB struck out on purpose." But there's little to indicate, aside from Lobel's unsupported allegations, that Manny intentionally struck out. Is he a prima dona? Undoubtedly. Difficult and aloof? Surely. A professional hitter, and one of the best right-handed bats of the past 50 years. Truly.

And so The Common Man doesn't really think that Manny struck out on purpose. But perhaps the cardinal virtue of manhood is that they are supposed to, in all times and all places, give their best effort. No excuses, no exceptions. Never quit, never say die. And certainly never give up on their comrades. Lobel is accusing Manny of being the worst possible kind of man. One who would betray his brothers and behave like a petty child.


These are the kinds of accusations that will dog a man for the rest of his days. Once applied, labels are tough to shake, regardless of what other evidence is brought forward to the contrary or is added to complicate the picture. And so, Joe DiMaggio will always be graceful elegant, and Ted Williams The Greatest Hitter Who Ever Lived. Dick Allen will always be surly. John Kerry will always be a flip-flopper. It's a beanball to the head. Once you let it go, there's no calling it back. Lobel, and all men, should be reluctant to lob this fastball in particular.



Our second story comes from the north woods and frozen tundra of Green Bay and the bayous of Louisiana, where the Packers and their legendary quarterback and movie star, Brett Favre, have been sniping back and forth at one another and playing a game of chicken as to whether Favre is going to be donning the green and gold next year. Not finding a daytime NPR station to his liking ,The Common Man has had sports talk radio on a bunch these past weeks, he's been forced to hear the back-and-forth, he said/he said, petty nonsense coming from both parties. Favre retired in February, was given the opportunity to reconsider in March (which he decided against), and now has decided he wants to play again. The Packers, stuck between a veteran quarterback who may have one last run in him and the nominal future of their franchise (Aaron Rodgers), have understandably balked at Favre messing with their plans so close to the start of training camp. Favre is hinting he may show up at camp and ask to be reinstated by the league; the team is saying he's welcome to come back, but as the likely backup.

Caught up in the hoopla and hollerin', the Minnesota Vikings (The Common Man's team of choice) have been accused by the Packers of tampering with Favre. The Vikings, according to the rival Packers, have been sowing seeds of discontent in Favre, trying to throw the whole of Green Bay, nay the whole state of Wisconsin, into chaos. By hinting privately to Favre that he might have a spot with their team, the Vikings, if these allegations are true, would be guilty of tampering.

This, to The Common Man, seems an awful lot like stealing someone's girl. Or perhaps it's trying to date someone's ex. Now, The Common Man knows that you never, ever date a friend's ex. That is verbotten. Fruit from the tree of knowledge. To taste it is to be forever changed, to have knowledge that one should not have and cannot unlearn. That's an offense for which it's reasonable (though not mandatory) to dump a friend.

That said, The Common Man wonders if it's ok to date/steal the ex-girlfriend of some guy you know, see a lot, but can't stand. Say, a co-worker. Say, Dwight. The Common Man presumes, awkwardness aside, that it's ok to go after that guy's ex. But is it ok to steal her? What if they are "on a break"?

Basically, if these allegations were true, what would the Vikings' obligations be, as men? Are they acting inappropriately? Should they be respecting the boundaries of the "relationship" between Favre and his (former?) team? Or is Favre fair game, NFL rules aside?

Preening Away Your Manhood

The Lord rested on the seventh day, and so did The Common Man, especially after The Boy came down with a cough and a fever and needed his daddy. However, today The Common Man is going to use his son's nap time more wisely, to deliver his gospel to you.

Yesterday, while getting ready for church, The Common Man was encouraged by The Uncommon Wife to try a new aftershave. The Common Man was skeptical of this new fragrance, particularly after catching its name, Blue Sugar. Sounded like a Blue Man prostitute. Yet, though The Common Man is king of his castle, he has delegated most of the power of decision making to his beautiful and talented better half. And so, he complied with her request. As he hesitated in front of the mirror, The Common Man began thinking about how complicated hygiene has become for the modern male.

The Common Man has long believed that soap is soap. Sure, shampoo goes best on hair and regular soap (in bar form, of course) goes best on the body. But in a pinch, anything will do. It's perfectly acceptable to wash your hair with soap if there just isn't one last glob of shampoo in the container. Or, if you get in the shower without looking, get yourself wet and have used the bar of soap all the way down to those useless, wafer-thin flakes, it's ok to shampoo your whole body. After all, there's hair on The Common Man's chest, arms, arm-pits, legs, and, um, other places. So for many years, The Common Man has embarked on his shower armed just with his shampoo and his bar of soap. He thought this was perfectly acceptable.

Apparently (and The Common Man wasn't aware of this), today's man needs a variety of products to look and smell manly. Sweaty musk doesn't do it anymore. As he enters the bathroom in the morning today, The Common Man is forced to negotiate shampoo, conditioner, body wash, aftershave, cologne, hair wax, and facial scrub to go with his *ahem* Clinique shaving gel. What was once a quick process of clean and comb has become a multi-phasic, multi-tasking process to achieve proper levels of sexy manness.

And it has become harder to feel masculine while going through this process during the day. After all, the facial scrub alone takes a full minute to work. A full minute of standing and waiting. A full minute that The Common Man is not engaged in some manly activity, like killing a buffalo. It's easy to feel emasculated by the metrosexual preening men must do in the morning.

As such, The Common Man has begun thinking of and referring to these processes using as masculine a vocabulary as he has at his disposal. The facial scrub, for instance, feels like a team of oxen plowing his face with strong blades, tilling the good skin to the surface.
The bodywash, or man-scrub, is the most efficient way to clean off his body without getting those little chest hairs stuck to the bar of soap (which, come on, you know annoys you. They're embarrassing, so you don't want to leave them for the next person; but they're a pain to pick off the wet bar of soap one by one). One note, under no circumstances can any self-respecting man use a luffa. Hands and washcloths only. Otherwise, the inefficiency is canceled out by the total girliness. The hair wax is like duct tape for your head. As for the fancy shampoo and conditioner, The Common Man's hair has never felt so full and bouncy and alive.

It seems as though the world is consigning men to its metrosexual agenda. There is little we can do to stop it. However, The Common Man urges you to take advantage of the advances in male hygiene, but rationalize them no matter how ridiculous your reasoning needs to be. After all, it's better to feel like a man while you slowly turn into a girl.

One final note. Blue sugar? Smells horrible. Like some kind of burnt offering to the Goddess of Metrosexuality.

Reboot

Hi, and welcome to The Common Man v. 2.0. My name is Rodney, and I'm in charge of the web page. You'll notice some changes around here, the first being our new address and layout. We're going for a real minimalist look around here, since the boss says that men don't like to decorate. That said, we're also trying to find ways to make the site more interactive than before. We'll have a new poll question every week and I invite all of you to comment, since I know The Common Man likes to know he has people reading his important work. And feel free to subscribe to the The Common Man's RSS feed on the sidebar. New postings will appear here daily (including weekends) as we try to build the blog's readership. Enjoy.

So, what else? A quick note about me. I'm 27 and was living in my mom's basement when the boss found me and imbued me with purpose. He told me I was wasting my life, playing Halo 3 in the dark, by myself. While he admitted that Halo 3 was awesome, and even sat down and showed me some moves, he said that a man has eventually got to make his own dinner and wash his own clothes and have sex in an elevator, or he can never become a man. So, 3 weeks later, I moved out and agreed to be his personal web lackey/grasshopper/best friend ever. I'm still working on the elevator, but everything else seems to be going well. Anyway, I won't be around much, just to let everyone know about changes to the blog and to talk about my metamorphosis.

And now, without further ado, here's the man himself:


Greetings, fellow travelers. It is said that in times of great crisis, when dark, ominous clouds dominate the horizon and the oceans dash ships of dreams on rocky shoals, that he will will come. A hero will arise and will protect the people from threats from within and without. He will set the world aright.

And so, it is with great enthusiasm that The Common Man announces his return to the blogosphere, just in time to watch that man hit the silver screen on July 19th. The Common Man has been touring the world with The Uncommon Wife and The Boy, seeking wisdom and resolve. From the fertile fields of the American north to the dry deserts of Egypt, from the depths of his basement to the hallowed halls of Nanda Parbat, The Common Man has consulted with kings, prophets, and marketing gurus. As a result, The Common Man returns not just older and wiser (and with more time on his hands), but with a renewed determination to spread his ideological seed and a new web design (all together, now: oooh! ahhhh).

Taken as a whole, The Common Man is dissatisfied with the ways that contemporary media defines the interests of the American male. Sure, sports show up very
brightly on his radar. And so do women. And big, crazy action movies. The Common Man is sympathetic to that. He loves those things too, and promises ample opportunity for you to discuss them. That said, when Americans let their popular culture drive and determine contemporary masculinity, important aspects of manliness get the short shrift. It's essential for men to discuss their responsibilities as well as their revelries. Current events as well as cup sizes. This is a site about the things men should care about, that women are welcome to read too (especially if you leave a phone number).