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I live in a National Historic Site of Canada called Fort Langley, British Columbia, Canada. I work for the local board of the community association here, magazines (e.g., a wedding magazine as the ‘Guy-in-Residence’), blogs, and newspapers, a restaurant (where I get burned and cut), and gardening-landscaping (where I only get cut, lucky me).
I find the intellectual jobs more fulfilling as I am able to listen to music while I write rather than simply working and trudging along in some boring manner. Nonetheless, they reflect some commonalities of patterns of activity.
In the one, I am simply motioning with my arms and body as a whole to bring about some changes to the physical environment in mostly pointless capacities. For some, it’s making the dishes clean; in others, it’s making a garden tot for the season, ready for viewing, aesthetic.
I volunteer in different local and national educational efforts. Typically, education on human rights and science. I have a school in Uganda with my namesake, as I fund some of it, directly, or help with applications of funding for it, indirectly, where probably about 100, or a little fewer, elementary school children get a humanistic or Humanist education, extremely unusual in their area.
I was raised by near-retired or retired women most of my life in the community; I would probably be on the streets without them. I owe my life to these people. However I may neglect this or they may not know it entirely, I do.
My life, my form of mind, my sensibilities, my emotional development come from through, as a reflection of them. In some sense, I am an aged woman in mentality while a man in body, and a male in sex. I'm not an old woman; I'm an old lady.
Much of my quarantine time has been taken up with internships like this or writing on a variety of subject matter, one of those is the topic of human rights and philosophy. I have been doing plenty of interviews and some reading too.
While, I listen to much Classical Music, so-called, for the mere purposes of enjoyment, as shown in Bach, Vivaldi, or Corelli, while abhorring Telemann or other clunkers. One of the texts of continual amusement, for me, has been H.L. Mencken’s “In Defense of Women.” Here’s the opening quote:
A man's women folk, whatever their outward show of respect for his merit and authority, always regard him secretly as an ass, and with something akin to pity. His most gaudy sayings and doings seldom deceive them; they see the actual man within and know him for a shallow and pathetic fellow.
In this fact, perhaps, lies one of the best proofs of feminine intelligence, or, as the common phrase makes it, feminine intuition. The mark of that so-called intuition is simply a sharp and accurate perception of reality, a habitual immunity to emotional enchantment, a relentless capacity for distinguishing clearly between the appearance and the substance.
The appearance, in the normal family circle, is a hero, magnifico, a demigod. The substance is a poor mountebank… She may envy her husband, true enough, certain of his more soothing prerogatives and sentimentalities. She may envy him his masculine liberty of movement and occupation, his impenetrable complacency, his peasant-like delight in petty vices, his capacity for hiding the harsh face of reality behind the cloak of romanticism, his general innocence, and childishness.
But she never envies him his puerile ego; she never envies him his shoddy and preposterous soul. This shrewd perception of masculine bombast and make-believe, this acute understanding of man as the eternal tragic comedian, is at the bottom of that compassionate irony which paces under the name of the maternal instinct.
A woman wishes to mother a man simply because she sees into his helplessness, his need for an amiable environment, his touching self-delusion. That ironic note is not only daily apparent in real life; it sets the whole tone of feminine fiction. The woman novelist, if she is skillful enough to arise out of mere imitation into genuine self-expression, never takes her heroes quite seriously.
I find him enormously funny, witty, and enjoyable to read, a superior writer. Someone who I take great joy in reading and imbibing to certain degrees. It is these sorts of things that take my time and take me away into the world of mind while away from the world.
The writer's perspective on being raised by retired women is fascinating. I can relate to having strong female influences shape my worldview too.
Interesting how they describe themselves as having an 'old lady' mentality in a male body. Really makes you think about how our upbringing shapes our identity.
That Mencken quote is brilliant! Never read it before but it perfectly captures the dynamic between men and women that I've observed in my own family.
I'm confused about the title though. What does hatching plans without eggs mean in this context?
The contrast between physical labor and intellectual work really resonates with me. I also find more fulfillment in tasks that engage my mind.
The part about working in a restaurant where they get burned and in gardening where they only get cut made me laugh. At least they're keeping their sense of humor about it!
The work they're doing with the school in Uganda sounds amazing. We need more people supporting education in developing countries.
Not sure I agree with Mencken's take on women seeing men as eternal tragic comedians. Feels a bit outdated and stereotypical to me.
The classical music preferences are quite specific. I agree about Bach and Vivaldi, but what's wrong with Telemann?
Living in a National Historic Site must be such a unique experience. I wonder how that influences their daily life and perspective.
Their description of washing dishes as changing the physical environment in pointless capacities really struck a chord with me. Never thought about it that way before.
The way they describe listening to music while writing versus just trudging along in other jobs is so relatable. Music really does transform the work experience.
You've got it wrong about Telemann. His work is actually quite sophisticated if you take the time to understand it.
I find it remarkable how they acknowledge their debt to the retired women who raised them. Such gratitude is rare these days.
The idea of being an aged woman in mentality while being a man physically is such an intriguing concept. Makes me think about gender identity in a new way.
Their volunteering work in human rights and science education shows real commitment to making a difference.
That Mencken quote seems pretty harsh toward men. Surely not all men are seen as shallow and pathetic by their women folk?
I'm curious about their work as a Guy-in-Residence for a wedding magazine. That must provide some unique perspectives!
The description of gardening as merely creating something aesthetic feels a bit dismissive. There's real value in creating beauty.
Anyone else notice how they weave together physical and intellectual work throughout the piece? It's quite masterfully done.