In the late 60s and early 70s I was a big fan of Janis Ian, even though she was (is) a good decade younger than I and her lyrics told stories very different from my life. I wasn

On Blog Sisters today, Gina Guiliano posted some info about an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education by Carol Tavris that reviews many of the current books that examine gender differences. Tavris ends her piece with the following statement:
…as long as we keep seeing the sexes as opposite players in some unwinnable zero-sum game, rather than as allies seeking to solve a specific problem, whoever suffers from it, society’s responses will careen drunkenly from one sex to the other, depending on who is making the most noise, whose problem seems worse, and whose problem makes the news this week. And as long as women focus exclusively inward on their feelings and their pasts, as long as they are lulled by the mindless if soothing hum of psychobabble, they will lack the knowledge and will to find solutions beyond the self — and to reframe the conversation away from ‘us versus them,’ and forward to ‘us and them.’
Of course the ideal is to get to a place where it’s ‘us and them’ and then maybe even on to just ‘us.’ BUT — BIG BUT — getting there is not as easy as Tarvis seems to think. At this point in our history, males and females value very different qualities in their opposite genders. And the paradox is that it is just those differing values that often cause conflict and misunderstanding.
Until both genders agree on what kinds of human qualities are desirable for all humans to demonstrate — AND until both genders make an effort to actually demonstrate those qualities — it just ain’t going to happen. Too many men are still in the place where they value certain qualities in males but very different qualities in females. And too many females are still in the place where they value certain qualities in females but very different qualities in males. When both genders start valuing many of the same qualities in both genders, then we’ll be getting somewhere.
Of course, the question then becomes ‘what should those universally valued and expected qualities of both genders be?’ Here’s my partial list: nurturing, honest, empathetic, tolerant, generous, patient, fair, communicative, participatory, non-judgemental, forgiving…. Hmmm. Sounds to me like the qualities one probably would want in a good friend. How about that!

stolen from Doug’s Dynamic Drivel:
The illusion of freedom will continue as long as it’s profitable to continue the illusion. At the point where the illusion becomes too expensive to maintain, they will just take down the scenery, they will pull back the curtains, they will move the tables and chairs out of the way, and you will see the brick wall at the back of the theatre. —Frank Zappa
stolen from new older/wiser Blog Sister minimouse:
If you can’t convince them, confuse them.—Harry S. Truman

As Mike Golby continues to conjure a literate path through his own dark, he brings more light to some of our lives than I

Andrea posts today about two issues dear (or rather not so dear) to my heart. And in my mind they are related because they reflect the traditional competitive and controlling attitude that old-guard males tend to bring to both creation and recreation. In the workplace, it’s manifested as the ‘old-boy’ network and the old ‘X’ management style. In sports and physical fitness, it becomes ‘be better than everyone else at any cost so that you/we can win’ rather than ‘be the best you can be and have fun with the becoming.’
I like physical activity. I will stay on the dance floor until my hair’s a sweaty hank and my legs and arms feel like rubber. But I refused to take gym in high school and I flunked it one year in college. Having to compete ruins it all for me. It becomes just more work, more pressure, more stress. Physical activity is supposed to relieve stress. I’ve never been physically strong or prone to enjoy competing. That’s why I like dancing (mostly ballroom) so much. It relies on grace and cooperation and is a great stress reliever –as long as you don’t get caught up the competition circle that the dance studios promote.
That said, I’m not saying that people shouldn’t compete in sports if they want to. It is, after all a great way to release the effects of all that testosterone. I’m just saying that equal value should be given to engaging in sports or dance or any other physical activity for the sheer fun of it. I remember when b!X was somewhere around ten or eleven years old and I was working in the office responsible for the State Library and State Archives, the staff of those two organizations got together for a ‘pick-up’ softball game once a week all summer. Kids were welcome to play as well, and so I opted to play on the Library team. The only rule was that we played until it got dark and then we all went out for pizza. We sort of kept score, but there was a lot of leeway given to the younger kids and lightweights like me. Exercise, camaraderie, encouragement, fun. That’s my kind of sport.

This is my brain. Well, not really my brain. It’s sort of my skull. With my sinuses. The sinuses that have given me trouble all of my life, but no one — until now — ever figured out that I have a badly deviated septum (and resulting sinus blockage), a situation that I’m going to have surgically remedied on July 11. It’s out-patient surgery — in in the morning, out in the afternoon. There are some risks, the doctor tells me, since my deviations are pretty high up — near my eyes (those large round empty places in the X-ray). But the risk factor is very small, he says. Of course, the sinuses are also right next to the brain, so they have to be careful there, too. He has to tell me that. It’s the law.
And, since they have to give me a general anesthetic and they’re going to be poking around some dangerously delicate areas, I have to have a ‘Living Will,’ just in case I wind up a vegetable, I guess. Boy, that would sure pull the rug out from under some of my family members. Heh.
I haven’t had that many surgeries — the birth of my kids, a couple of fibrous cysts, the ankle I broke badly four years ago. I didn’t have to have a Living Will those times. Maybe it’s my age now. Maybe it’s the thing about the brain.
Oh well. I’ll either be breathing really well or not breathing at all. Even the breathing well option will take a couple of weeks, what with the splint and the packing and all. At least I’ll have a good excuse to hole up by myself for a while — which, after the kind of day I had today, I will really welcome.

You see men sailing on their ego trips
Blast off on their space ship
Million miles from reality
No care for you, no care for me
So much trouble in the world now
So much trouble in the world now
All you got to do is give a little
Give a little, give a little
One more time YE-A-H! YE-AH!
So much trouble — Bob Marley
Jeneane and b!X blog daily, voicing frustration, isolation, and caring as different as they are personal and compelling. They are my first reads each day, although not always my immediate comments. I follow the echoes of their voices until I find the beginnings of my own.
When Jeaneane posted about