Planet of the Blind

Who DO they think they’re fooling? 

"The Patriarch" called?

I know exactly who called in a feeble attempt to defend my Caveman of a husband and if you stop to think
about it, you do too.  I’m not naming names, but trust me, if you read this blog, you do.

I’m crushed. 

There is no Defending the Caveman in this instance.  My clumsy Caveman knows his "slip" was anything but "iddy biddy".  It was an "Uh-Oh" moment and he knows it! 

So now I’m dealing with two cavemen.  Thank goodness they are miles apart at the moment (thank goodness we’re ALL miles apart!) otherwise they’d be pounding their chests, hoisting their spears, giving each other the old "high five" with one hand while crushing beer cans with the other in some macho display of perceived dominance.

Clearly this "Patriarch" doesn’t recall our conversation a few years ago in which he called me a saint.  When I asked why he said, and I quote, "my wife wouldn’t let me leave for a week at a time, let alone two months!"

Oh how quickly these mighty hunters band together the moment they sense danger lurking in the form of
"women beating up" on them on their blogs.

~ Connie

(Image above is that of a caveman, a cartoon character sitting on the ground in front of his laptop.  He’s scratching his head with his right hand, as if to say "Duh" while poking at the keyboard with one finger of his left hand.)

The phone rang just the other day and I was surprised.  No one ever calls the lake house.  I figured it was someone looking for a donation to the Patrolmen’s Benevolence Fund which got me to thinking about that phrase, I mean, I know the PBF is supposed to assist the widows and children of wounded or dead policemen, but the title also suggests that if you give to the fund the police will be benevolent to you, and of course you get a little sticker you can put on your windshield and this implies that the police are perfectly aware of the general drift of symbolic language, which in turn got me to wondering if someone far back in time was reading the philosophical work of Ernst Cassirer at the police station, and I was in danger then of not making it to the phone in time to answer it.

The voice that came out of the phone was absolutely stunning.  It was deep, masculine, the kind of voice one associates with the great Russian "basso profundo" Chaliapin.  It was antediluvian.  It was the voice of Moses.  Maybe this was the Policemen’s Benevolence Fund?

"Stephen Kuusisto?"

Yes?"  I said.  "If this isn’t Chaliapin it must be Charlton Heston,"  I thought.

"Stephen Kuusisto.  This is The Patriarchy!"

"Wow!  Really?   You mean like the big "Patriarchy?"  I said.

"Yes, Stephen.   We are the line of great men who go back through the ages.   We’re calling to tell you that we stand behind you, one hundred per cent!"

"Wow!" I said.   You have to understand that I didn’t know who this was on the line–and what else do you say to the unsolicited benevolence of the Patriarchy?   I was a little bit scared.

"Yes, Stephen.   We of the Patriarchy have observed that women are beating up on you on your blog.   We Men don’t think you did anything wrong when you said in your post that you "have the privilege" of going to your lake house to write without anyone but your dog for company.   These women seem to think that men should spend all their time extolling the extraordinary joys of marriage.   But mark our words: when men hang around and extol the joys of marriage, women go nuts.   And furthermore, Stephen, these women are being disingenuous.   Every one of them would be delirious with joy if they could get away from their husbands and go alone to the lake house."

Mr. Patriarchy had to hang up just then because he said he had to skip down to the local seven-eleven for some marshmallow Fluff.

I’m not really sure who that was on the other end of the line.   But he sure sounded authoritative.

I knew I should have gotten an unlisted number…

Oh, and lest you wonder about the veracity of this post, I really did receive this call.   I swear with my right hand on "The Book of Common Prayer" and all I can add is that I can’t help it if the Patriarchy has a phone book…