The Amazing Average-Guy and The Perfect Woman: Part One

     Hey, Gang. Before we talk, I just want to remind everyone to take a moment today during our reunions and get-togethers and parties and such and thank our veterans... our heroes... for their efforts and their sacrifices in giving us this way of life. We live in a fantastic and exceptional country and, as Thomas Jefferson once said, "The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."

     If you are one of the defenders of my home, past or present, you are welcome here anytime and I salute you.

     So. Guys. What do you find attractive in a woman? What do you look for first? What's more important? Looks or personality? Skinny, heavy or somewhere in the middle? Or all three?

I was having some trouble this week trying to find something interesting for us to talk about. My job as an assistant manager of a successful restaurant has kept me busy, what with school out for the summer and that coinciding with Memorial Day weekend and the start of the summer traveling season. I wasn't able to take a day and see what's going on around me and acquire some stories or topics. So I asked for some help on my Facebook page for something to share. A friend of mine immediately tossed out the idea of sharing my opinions of what a man finds attractive in a woman.

     I will confess to being very humbled and honored by this request. I don't know if I am qualified to speak on behalf of my gender but I will do my best.

    You will notice that the title says this is "Part One." Because I'm certain I'll be revisiting this topic in the future.

     What does a man find beautiful and attractive in a woman? I can tell you what I think and I will in a moment. I actually tried to do some research on this. Not as much as I'd have liked but I'll be better prepared in Part Two.

     A definitive response to this is most likely impossible. Every man has his own strengths and his own issues and insecurities. Men also go through different stages of life. We may like the bad, trashy girl when we're teenagers, then wise up and want the down-to-earth, caring woman in our twenties and upward. Here are some of the answers my research has netted me.

• Men look for health. Physical, psychological, emotional, fiscal.
• Men look for the outward appearance of physical health. Good personal hygiene.
• Men want someone beautiful, but, we objectively know what this is. Different strokes for different folks. A Discovery health program stated that men overwhelmingly are attracted to women who have a 70% ratio from waist to hips. Meaning waist is 70% size of hips. Another online survey discovered that men preferred women with a mid-to-heavy body size instead of those whose curves bare more bone than fat. It is also interesting to note that this is an immediate indicator of health. I can personally agree with this. I like a woman who ain't afraid to eat. Just sayin'.
• Men want a woman who is honest, who he can trust completely, who is not likely to sneak around and sleep with other guys. I can also personally agree with this.
• Men want a woman who will make an effort to please him. This does not fall under the category of "GET ME A SANDWICH, WOMAN!!!!" But we know when you care and want to make us happy the same way we want to make you happy. 
• Men want a woman to appreciate what he does for a living. For a long time, I was uncomfortable with what I did because the woman I was dating had a much classier job than mine. We can't all be doctors and lawyers. Sometimes we're just damn fine Assistant Managers and we work hard at it. And we just want to be respected.
• Men want a best friend. A partner for life and for our souls. Someone to laugh with, share problems with and be completely stupid around.
• Men want someone who will have faith in him.
• Men want a woman who is independent and strong, yet sometimes submissive.
• Men want someone with a sense of humor.
• Men want interdependence, so that you trust and need each other.
• Men want a woman who has a great smile and a positive attitude and loves to laugh and be herself but can also be intelligent and serious.
• And what do men find beautiful as far as looks? When it comes to physical attributes, the eyes have it.  Personally, for me... the lips.

     These are most but not all of the things I gathered. It is also interesting to note that while an average body size turned heads, it was actually a woman's personality men considered beautiful the most. And I agree with that. We also tend to think that a woman with self-confidence, as well as being kind, caring, and sincere is beautiful, as well as a woman who is willing to listen and engage in conversation with us.

     Ask any guy and you may very well be surprised to learn that those perfect bodies and skinny runway models are far from his dream girl.

    I can personally add some more that didn't make the list.

1. Don't try and change us into what you want us to be.. I'm a dork. Card-carrying. I get excited about comics and superheroes and Star Wars. Sometimes vocally. I dated a woman once who didn't like that. Wanted me to "tone it down" and "stop being so childish". We're not together anymore. 
2. Men like to be the hero. You're independent and you can move the world all by yourself. We get it. But sometimes... not every time but sometimes.... let us move the world for you.
3. Be supportive, even if we have 12 different ideas for blogs and we can't decide which one is the better one. :-)

     Now.... my personal opinion. What does Michael a.k.a. The Average-Guy find attractive?

     As above, someone I can trust without question, someone with more hips and less bone and who isn't afraid to eat. Someone who is kind and sincere and cares about what I think and respects what I do for a living. Someone who can laugh at themselves and who can make me laugh. Someone who will let me be me and not be embarrassed by it. A strong, independent woman who will let me be her hero every once in a while. Someone who will be supportive of what I do, even if I fail at it. Because she will pick me up and dust me off and say, "Okay. You'll get it next time." And someone who will be my best friend and let me be hers. Partners. Teammates. Someone who needs me as much as I need her. She doesn't have to be gorgeous. She just has to care. 

Everyone's idea of perfect is different. You can't please everyone so don't even try. Be yourself. Love yourself. Take it from me, there is a man out there who needs exactly what you have. Don't settle. Never settle. And don't take crap. If he doesn't love you the way you deserve, cut him loose. Because you'll never find that gem as long as you're content with that piece of concrete you're carrying around.

     And as always, I encourage you to leave comments and opinions. We're just friends talking here. Anything on the above list I missed? There will be a Part Two to this, I guarantee.

   
My brief research came from http://wiki.answers.com/Q/What_do_men_look_for_in_a_woman if you want to see the bullet points I didn't list.

     

     Okay. I'm turning out the lights here in the Average Lair. Have a safe and happy and safe and safe Memorial Day. 

     See you guys next week.

      

     

   

The Amazing Average-Guy vs. The $#@&%$

     If you're a friend of mine on Facebook or in real life (or IRL in the digital vernacular), you've probably already read this story. But I felt it was interesting and entertaining enough to recount here. If you haven't heard this tale.... well, it's a good one. And with my limited storytelling ability on Mark Zuckerberg's Grand Social Experiment, I wasn't really able to share the entirety of the tale to my satisfaction. Gather 'round the fire, Faithful Readers, and I will tell you a story.

      Let me begin by saying that I am a Diet Mountain Dew addict. I didn't used to be. In all honesty, it used to be Diet Dr. Pepper. But my good friend, who is also a DMD addict, was kind enough to share one night when I was out of my drink of choice. And such is history. At my job, I tend to work more nights than days and I'm usually home by 2 a.m. On this particular morning, after I had gotten home, I curled up on the couch with my kindle and read until about 6 a.m. I started getting hungry. I had some milk in the fridge that needed to be used so I was thinking shortbread cookies. Which I love. Along with carrot cake, cheesecake, Reese's cups, and vanilla ice cream. Plus, I hadn't had any DMD for several hours so I was having a caffeine withdrawal and the mind-numbing headache that comes with it. My apartment is across the street from Walmart, which is both a gift and a curse. I typically walk over there rather than drive because:
   

1. Have you seen the price of gas?!?!?!     
2. I'm a type-2 diabetic who has fought it for the last 8 years and finally has it under control. I tend to walk more than I drive so I can keep my weight down and stay off the oral medication.

     STORY PAUSE
     
     Now, I bet you're thinking, "Michael. You said you were diabetic. But you just listed about twelve different sweet things that you like to eat."

     Yes. Yes I did. I have a wicked sweet tooth. It is proof to me that my God, who I love and adore, has a sense of humor by giving me a chronic illness that keeps me from satisfying my sweet tooth. And I do still eat them. Things are under control and I like to reward myself for my good behavior from time to time.

     STORY PAUSE OVER
   
     I walked over to Walmart in the early morning. This is actually my favorite time to shop because there's no one there. I don't know about the Walmart where you are, but the one where I live.... Sweet Georgia Brown. It gets a little hectic during the day. Anyhoo..... I gather up my pecan shortbread cookies and my 12-pack of Diet Mountain Dew and head to the wide open checkout counter. Again, I don't know about the Walmart where you are but here in Small Town, Tennessee, the cashiers have begun asking for donations to help the Children's Miracle Network.

     STORY PAUSE II

     I am a huge and stalwart supporter of kids. I will stand and fight fiercely for them. And I have. I remember my childhood fondly. When I was growing up in Ohio in the 70s, my parents let me walk or ride my bike to the public library alone. I, and the other neighborhood kids stayed outside until the street lights came on or dinner was ready. Being a kid back then had its dangers, but for the most part we were safe.
     Not now. Not today. Kids have no idea what it's like to be kids.
     Our kids have nowhere to turn. No one to trust. Teachers, church leaders, even parents.... people that kids know they can turn to in a crisis.... have let them down. Predators stalk children for no other reason than pure evil. Our kids think they can't trust adults. And for the most part, they're right. But I love kids. And I will fight, argue, stand alone, whatever, for our kids. For that reason, I donate lots of money to the Children's Miracle Network, St. Jude Children's Hospital, our own Monroe C. Carell Children's Hospital here in Tennessee at Vanderbilt, charities for childhood cancer, autism research, childhood diabetes, etc.

     STORY PAUSE II OVER


     So, I get to the cashier and put my items down on the counter. My headache is getting worse and I am anxious to tear into that caffeinated goodness sitting before me. The cashier asks if I would like to donate a quarter to the CMN. I chuckle lightly and hear the squeak of cart wheels behind me. Someone else in line.                
     "Yes, I would," I tell the cashier. "But I think I can spring for five dollars." And I give her the fiver.
     I hear the person behind me cough a rasping cough, followed by, "Well, you can give me five dollars. I'm poorer than them."
     I stop. It's possible, I think, that maybe the guy is down on his luck. Maybe my five dollars would better serve someone else at this moment. So, I turn to look at the man behind me. I froze. All I could do was stand there and blink for a few seconds. The caffeine monkey on my back continued to pound away on my head with his sledgehammer, grinning his monkey-grin the entire time. The guy is dressed in ratty clothes. His cart is full of beer and wine and junk food. Then he asks the cashier for a carton of cigarettes. This guy doesn't even appear to be trying. He's so poor that he can afford three different kinds of alcoholic beverages and a carton of brand-name cigarettes?
     I literally look him up and down for a few seconds and, with restraint that I am proud of, I say,

"I'll make you a deal. When you become a child with a debilitating disease like, say, cancer... or you become the parent of a child with a debilitating disease like, say, cancer.... and you throw hundreds of thousands of dollars and as many sleepless nights at it with nothing to show for it and your child asks you if everything is going to be okay and you fight back the tears because you have to be strong for her and you tell her 'Yes, everything is going to be okay' even when she knows you're lying.... or when she asks you if she's going to die and what is heaven like and you can't think of anything to say except 'It'll be okay.' Are you poorer than that, sir? When that happens to you, let me know and I'll be happy to give you five dollars."

And I grabbed my stuff and left the store. And I was pretty upset for a large part of the day. I consumed some DMD and my headache ebbed, the monkey satisfied.

     I have a friend whose daughter had cancer when she was around 12, I think. She went through the whole cancer-fighting gamut. Chemo and the rest. She beat it. Kicked its ass. She's a total superhero. She's 16 now and, aside from routine checkups and necessary medicines, she's fine. She's a normal, precocious, 16 year-old girl with everything that entails. That same friend has a son who is autistic. A very sweet boy. I'm an assistant manager at a restaurant. I believe one of my employees is autistic. I can't really know for sure, but I think so. She has a less-than-stellar home life. That I know. But she works so hard and always gives me 100 percent.

I would encourage you, in some manner, to give to a children's charity. Or be an advocate for kids. It has gotten to the point, really, where all they have is each other. They need us. And we need them.


A very special thank you and shout out goes to Susan at her blog "Super Earthling" for helping this not-so-computer-savvy guy get his blog up and running. She has totally gone above and beyond. Go check out her blog. And be a follower. I am. Go now. http://superearthling.blogspot.com/


And if you liked this, check out my companion page on Mr. Zuckerberg's Grand Social Experiment (everybody calls it Facebook, or something) at https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Not-So-Secret-Files-of-the-Amazing-Average-Guy/369022626487647
     
   

The Amazing Average Guy and The Disturbing Truth About Mother's Day

    As of this writing, I have yet to wish my own mother a Happy Mother's Day. I am truly a bad seed. Work and other inexcusable activities kept me from doing so, but I'll call her later and send her flowers. I'm her first born son. She'll understand. :-)

I hope you had a fantastic Mother's Day. I hope your family loved on you and sent you cards and lavished gifts on you until you just couldn't take anymore and you had to yell "ENOUGH!!" I hope it was one for the record books. Congratulations. You deserve it.

Mother's Day was first celebrated in 1908 when one Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother, then campaigned to make Mother's Day a national holiday. She succeeded in 1914, but by the 1920's she became disgusted with its commercialization and was even arrested for disturbing the peace when she and her sister campaigned against what the holiday had become. According to her New York Times obituary in 1948, she became embittered because too many people sent their mothers a printed greeting card. She was quoted as saying,

"A printed card means nothing except that you are too lazy to write to the woman who has done more for you than anyone in the world. And candy! You take a box to Mother—and then eat most of it yourself. A pretty sentiment."

Perhaps it's no surprise that Anna Jarvis died unmarried and without children. But I think I judge her too harshly.

I look back to my own childhood and I can remember what a huge part my mom played in my life. "Well, yeah," you say. "She's your mother." True, true. She did what other mothers did. Changed my diapers. Made sure I ate. Kissed my boo-boos. And, really, there were a lot of boo-boos. It was the 1970s. I had a Big Wheel and cousins in the country. Lots and lots of road rash, skinned knees in the creek, and my favorite: poison ivy. Although with that, there was less kissing and more calamine. Chicken pox in the fourth grade during the classroom screening of my still favorite Halloween film.... the Disney version of "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow". There was a lot of calamine with that, too.

I got punished a lot, too. I got spankings. With switches and leather belts. Those punishments were the rudder of my adolescent life. I look back and I see that now. When my family moved to Tennessee from Ohio after my dad lost his job and the kids in my new school picked on me because I had a wicked stutter and a Northern accent, my mom gave me the courage to go back the next day. She took me swimming. A lot. My mom took me to see Star Wars. She took me to see "Superman: The Movie" one Friday night in 1978 even though it meant missing "Dallas". When my kids were born and I had no idea what I was doing as a parent, I called my mom. When I went through a painful divorce and spent the next few years practically penniless and fighting just to stay above water and keep my kids fed and clothed, my mom never hesitated to send me money. Sometimes I asked. Sometimes I didn't.

And I could go on and on and on.

The disturbing truth about Mother's Day? We have to have a day to celebrate her. When it really should be just one more day out of 365 that we're celebrating her.

Maybe Anna Jarvis was on to something. Have you tried to get a card for Mother's Day at Walmart? Anna Jarvis would be livid, I think. 365 days to tell our mothers we love them. 364 of those are used for whatever else we do and we use one day to run around and act like savages at our local department store to do what we already should have been doing.

And I actually told my mom I loved her the day before Mother's Day. And the day before that. And a couple of days before that. I pretty much tell her whenever I talk to her. But I missed yesterday. Not too shabby, really. Maybe I'm not such a bad seed, after all.

But don't sweat it, Mom. The flowers will be there tomorrow.

Welcome to the lair.

     Hello, everyone, and thanks for stopping in. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Michael and this is my little blog. I'm not a movie star or a political figure. I'm not a bestselling author or multi-millionaire. I'm a divorced father of two. I'm an avid comic book and "regular book" reader, a fan of roleplaying games, vampire and zombie films, and I'm a certified news junkie. I follow politics and I have a conservative outlook.

     Just an average guy.

     So why does a regular, average guy who's not famous have a blog, you may ask?

     Well.... because I think it'll be fun.

     I will have stories to tell from my strictly average, yet somehow entertaining, life, opinions to share, movie reviews, book reviews and anecdotes and the like, all on a weekly basis. I hope to maybe educate and share some truth, tell some funny stories and leave you smiling. You, faithful reader, are encouraged to leave comments and interact.

     I think this will be the start of a beautiful friendship.

     I'll see you guys back here next week. Later, gang.

     And Happy Mother's Day.