TOXIC MALE? HOW TO TELL

Baby boomers were exposed to the toxic male early on, but it had another name: Junior High Football Coach.

But it wasn’t their fault, it was just the times.

When guys with names like Dick Butkus, Ray Nitschke, and Sam Huff were stuffing guys like Jim Brown and Jim Taylor, every coach wanted their players to ‘stick your head in there.’

Things have changed since then, headhunter.

Today’s toxic male comes from a short line of history where men like them were once pummeled.

Before the big platforms, mouthy guys never knew if someone in the audience might take enough offense to punch them out.

Now it’s cleaner. Cleaner twitterX, cleaner Facebook, cleaner messaging.

It’s easier to stay on message with all of the extras of appearing removed.

Web cam, shirt and tie, hair white-walled high and tight, with a shit talk script of shit talking points and boom, you’re a sensation, an influencer, a $50,000 a month cold-bath taking wonder.

Or maybe you’re the guy with the dream, that dream. Keep dreaming, there’s a long line.

But go on and stick your head in there.

 

Toxic Male Baseline

The big tell on the toxic male is too much self.

Self interest, self promoting, self indulgent.

I remember John Belushi’s quote, more or less, “I give so many so much pleasure, why can’t I take some myself,” before he overdosed on a speedball in Chateau Marmot.

He hit the big time with SNL in 1975 and died in 1982. I’ll do the math; seven years, five movies, memorable characters.

Why was he toxic? Too self indulgent from the news I read.

No one said, “John, you have the rest of your life ahead of you, a wife, kids, grandkids who will want to just be around you. You’ll be the coolest dad and granddad ever once they see your movies. Don’t flush it John. That’s the future you want, not another speedball from your girlfriend.”

John: She’s not my girlfriend. Hit it.

He’s a poster boy for the Needle and the Damage Done if anyone is.

I’ve seen the needle and the damage done
A little part of it in everyone
But every junkie’s
like a settin’ sun.

 

He didn’t listen to the men in his life or the women in his life and is therefore a toxic hall of famer.

Because he didn’t listen he robbed us of great performances in the future. He could do things no one else could do.

That look he gave Carrie Fisher in Blues Brothers? Movie magic.

Not any more.

And that’s why I celebrate fifth year anniversaries back from the edge. (Hey Alex)

There’s something different when you meet someone using and see them come out clean and proud.

Their pride is the sort of pride we can all share across the board.

But maybe you’re of a different train of thought like, “Screw all the addicts and dump them in the ocean.”

That’s a toxic male point of view brother, straighten that shit out.

You would if your kid was one of those who lived to be high and nothing else mattered, not you, not food, not shelter, just chasing that fucking high for all they’re worth.

And there’s nothing you can do. Can you feel me now?

 

The De-tox Male

There’s always going to be someone who ‘knows better’ who found ‘the truth’ and they want to help you ‘understand.’

It might be a religious moment, a moral moment, or a financial moment.

Most of all it will be a memorable moment such that from then on things were different.

I’ve had moments of truth, dear readers, and as you might expect they were difficult.

A woman at work said, “I need a man with no connections, no commitment, no checking in. I’ve heard married men are the best choice. What do you think?”

Another said, “I feel like fooling around. What are you feeling?”

I’m not here to tell anyone what to give up, but if you’re married you ought to think about saying good-bye to your goomar.

 

We were married by a licensed rental official under a canopy in an outdoor ceremony in the driving rain. Did I skip anything?

Oh, later it snowed. In May. 1986.

We didn’t add the umbrella of sin that comes with getting married in a holy cathedral.

The promises we made to each other, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death had a nice ring to it in the beginning.

We didn’t write our own vows. I still like the sound of the classic.

As I’ve said to my wife, “I’m only taking those vows once.”

Wife: But I’d want you to get remarried if I die first.

Me: Are you feeling sick or what?

Wife: I’d just want you to get remarried.

Me: Why would you want me to ruin some other poor woman’s life like I’ve done you?

Wife: I wouldn’t want you to be lonely.

Me: I like lonely with you.

Wife: That’s us. I wouldn’t want you to be lonely alone.

Me: Honey, let’s remember. Was I lonely when we met?

Wife: Yes.

Me: I was so lonely I needed company.

Wife: You had plenty of company.

Me: And now us. See how that works out? I gave it all up and got married.

Wife: Yes you did.

Me: Once.

Wife: So far.