The Boys Are Back In Town

Remember that scene in one of the early Star Trek movies, where there's that little worm-slug thing that some evil guy--Khan maybe?--puts into the ear of some good guy?

And it was so totally disgusting to see the worm-slug go into the guy's ear that you still, twenty-something years later, need your ears to be covered when you sleep to keep any worm-slugs that happen by, out?

And how when the unfortunate recipient of the ear worm-slug finally died, you weren't totally sure that the worm-slug even did it, until the slug actually crawled out of the dead guy's other ear, having gnawed its way through his entire brain using God knows what since it didn't even seemed to have any TEETH?

Well, I think that, to men, that little deadly ear worm-slug is a metaphor for intimacy. I think that they think, that if they listen to us, and get to know us, we will worm our little way into their minds and gnaw through their brains with our hideous non-teeth. So, they keep us from getting in too deep, by covering their metaphorical ears--by working too much, not calling when they should, etc. This could also explain why they like to wear hats.

It's just a theory.

I have tried very hard to figure out what scares men--fine, not all men, just the ones I encounter--so much about being close to someone. I wonder if it dates back to early childhood? Those days on the playground when we used to play "Boy Chase Girl?" It occurs to me now that we never actually played anything after the boys got the girls. We just kind of stopped and started chasing after one another again.

Could it be, then, that because of this deficient gameplaying during prime developmental years, some men have never actually learned what to do with women once the chase is over? And, similarly, some women do not know how to be in a relationship, and can only ever handle being chased? I suppose to test this theory, I would have to find Joey Krajeski, Christy Bradburn, Josh Guidelle, and Allison Haugstaad and examine the state of their personal lives now.

Hmm. Though it occurs to me that I actually do know the current state of most of their personal lives.

They are all married to one another.

Is my problem, then, that I didn't snatch Jeff Baule up at age six, when I had the chance? But he would never have felt intellectually comfortable in the relationship--I was a green-level reader, and he was down there in lowly brown! Also, our marriage would've been plagued with my complaints that his collection of Star Wars figures was taking up the whole living room!

I don't think it would've worked out.

I guess the only thing to do now is make sure that any of my future offspring are more well-adjusted. If I ever have a boy-child, I will save him years of therapy and troubled relationships by having the following dialogue:

My six-year-old son: Mommy! Mommy! We're outside playing Boy Chase Girl and I just caught Heather!

Me: Good job, Vercingetorix! I'm so proud of you. Now go ask Heather out to dinner.

Vercingetorix: But, Mo-om! We're not done playing yet!

Me: Yes you are. You've just said yourself that you've caught her. Now that you've caught her, we'll all three of us play a new game, called "Make Heather Feel Special."

V: But I don't wanna play that game. Heather's gross.

Me: Then why did you run after her?

V: I don't know. That's what the game is.

Me: Well, you really should've clarified your feelings for Heather before you started chasing her. It's your job to think ahead and figure out what you'll do when you win the game and actually catch the girl. Now go get Heather so we can start making her feel special.

V: Mo-om! I hate you. It's bad enough you gave me a stupid name that no one can spell. Now I have to be nice to girls. You're the worst mom ever.

Me: That may well be. Now take this box of chocolates and these flowers and ask Heather nicely to come in from the yard.

V: Fine.

Me: And on your way back into the house, tell Heather that you think she's a very pretty young lady, but more than that, that she's intelligent and independent. That you're thrilled that you caught her, and that you're very interested in knowing more about her, and all of her interests, including her horse, Snowbell.

V: Ugh.

Me: And later we'll work on making her a mix tape.