That’s me. And how do I know? It’s simple, really. I meet the two basic requirements:
1. anatomical equipment
That should be the end of the story. But TV tells me otherwise. Consider the supplement commercial. Now I have nothing against supplements. I take a few myself, focusing on joint care and digestive health. But what I saw yesterday was different.
Along comes this v-shaped guy who’s sprinting along. Alas … Father Time is catching up with him, and the “v” is becoming a “u”. The spring is slowing to a plod. To the rescue comes a capsule – a magic pill that will no doubt produce a miracle transformation.
The announcer knows how to get my attention:
This is man-boosting
More drive and passion
Get back your swagger
Two human beings take centre stage. One has recovered his “v” and sports lumpy muscles. The other has a 20-inch waist and fluttering eyes. She rubs his bicep to the accompaniment of “Ooo …”
The messages hide seductively beneath the surface: As I am (unlumpy), I’m not good enough. I need to add to what is here right now. I will be alone for the rest of my life unless I “man up”. Aging is bad.
It all seems so silly to me. Why add to uniqueness? Why focus on “less than” (or for that matter “better than”)? They’re both illusions. Commercials can hypnotize. I choose to see clearly what the truth is.
I am a man
4 thoughts on “A Man”
sigh, the marketing kings playing with people’s minds that are unable to see the difference I suppose. the difference between knowing your self worth, and or being told you don’t have any, by the marketing souls, and if you just do this it will happen for you 😦 sad people put themselves in that position and sadder still sometimes the low level they will stoop too, to sell a product! sigh.
Beautifully said, Donna. So much sighing about the smallness we see.
Thank you. I am an old fat man and the world thinks I am all used up and useless but I know that I finally understand the better parts of life. I was born with some very small equipment let us say and for most of my life I let that define me and make me angry and keep me from embracing life. Now that I’m older I see that size doesn’t matter at all, big or small with my small friend and my very big beer belly. It is who I am inside that matters. Bruce, I like your comment. What we see is smallness that hides the bigness in our hearts.
Thank you, George, for being so transparent. It’s not the belly. It’s not the skin colour. It’s the eyes.