The Old Coot isn’t ‘real’

By Merlin Lessler —

Real men don’t cry, not when John Wayne was king anyhow. Maybe real men do cry once in a while, but they try not to. Here’s an acid test to see if you are a real man.

“Do you cut a sandwich in half, or eat it whole with one hand?” Another one is, “Real men love hot dogs.”

Someone might object, “Do you know what hot dogs are made of?”

Real men say they don’t care; they like them. Fine dining for a real man is ordering a deluxe hamburger with all the fixings and double onions. Real men drink coffee, not lattes. Real men wear work boots, even with shorts. High fashion is wearing a pair of jeans with a Levi’s or Wrangler tag. 

Meat is their go-to health food. It makes perfect sense. Meat comes from animals that are vegetarians. For real men, a luxury vehicle is a four-door pickup truck. Real men don’t let on that they can play the piano or admit they like some of Taylor Swift’s songs. Real men never leave a partially full glass of beer behind when they leave a bar.

Old coots like me like to pretend we are real men, but it’s hard to live up to the image when you go around with your shirt on inside out and a pair of glasses on top of your head asking if anyone has seen your glasses. 

Real men don’t complain about things; they fix them. Old coots just complain. Real men live life in the present; old coots go on and on about the good old days, especially the ones where we think we are real men.

Now we’re just plain old men, ordering hot dogs whenever we get the chance. With mustard, never ketchup. Ketchup goes on hamburgers. We used to think McDonald’s was crazy for putting both mustard and ketchup on a burger. We’d scrape off the mustard.

Now, we don’t care; we’re not real men.

Comments? Complaints? Send to – mlessler7@gmail.com.