Great, Big, Chicken Men

This piece first appeared in June 4th, 2009 edition of the Pioneer Tribune, a weekly newspaper from Manistique, Michigan. Please visit their website: http://www.pioneertribune.com/

Men are supposed to be brave. That is what we are told, as a rule, and that rule is sort of at the top of the unwritten rule pile of manhood. Somehow physical size is frequently associated with just how brave a man should be. Someone, somewhere decided that great big guys should be braver simply because they are big. This is why guys like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood played the role of hero and guys like Tony Randall and Woody Allen didn’t. They simply wouldn’t be believable as being brave.

It is because of the movies and guys like Wayne and Eastwood that I, being 6’4” and 270 pounds, would be expected to be brave when danger reared its ugly head.

What is seldom factored in is that a lot of us big, brave guys are just plain stupid. The scientific formula looks something like this: big + stupid = brave.

This is what it looks like when that formula is applied:

“Hey big guy! Step out there and see if the terrorists are still shooting at anything that moves.”

“Duh? Okay.”

The reality is that men of all sizes exhibit acts of bravery all of the time. Soldiers, firefighters, policemen and other everyday heroes come in all shapes and sizes. Many times a man will risk his life to help another human being without even thinking of the danger he is putting himself in. It is something that must be done, and we are programmed to respond accordingly.

“Must be done” is the key phrase here for acts of bravery. Take away those three words and we men are reduced to a big pile of wussy-ness. With those words out of the equation we become some of the biggest chickens in the world and we cry like big babies. Big chicken babies.

Anything that requires us to step outside of our comfort zone scares us to death. Anything that diverts us from our normal routine is cause for out-and-out panic. I have watched my good friend, Wayne Genghis, weep like a frightened school girl when confronted with automated check-out lines and pay-at-the-pump gas stations. He doesn’t understand technology, and as a result, technology sends him running for his security blanket.

We have all heard about men not wanting to stop and ask for directions. This has nothing to do with having too much pride to ask. It has everything to do with being afraid to ask. We are afraid that the person we ask will somehow think we are not competent. We are afraid that we will sound stupid for not knowing where we are or how to get where we are going. This is the single biggest reason why men love GPS’s. Men would also be able to operate their GPS's if someone would invent an owner’s manual that wasn’t so terrifying.

Men are afraid to make phone calls to people that they don’t know. Years ago, when I worked at a hardware store in Marquette, I received countless phone calls from women who would be asking questions for their husbands. I knew they were asking the questions for their husbands because I could hear them yelling the questions in the background:

“Ask him if I really need to clean both the pipe and the fitting before I solder them together!”

“Yes, both need to be cleaned,” I would reply.

“He said yes!” she would yell.

From the background I would hear, “Why!?”

“I don’t know! Why don’t you ask him yourself? Here, take the phone!”

The husband would then take the phone and sheepishly ask his question again, as if this would somehow change my response. This happened almost daily.

Men are afraid to go to social events where they won’t know anyone. Meeting new people is pretty high on the scary scale for guys. To take the terrifying edge off such situations, men need to meet new people during brief encounters in an environment within their control. There are few words more frightening to a man than “You’d get along great with so-and-so’s husband, he’s just like you.”

Now it’s true that all of the above scenarios don’t apply to every man. I enjoy technology. If I have to, I’ll ask for directions. I don’t mind reading owners’ manuals. I don’t have questions about home maintenance or repair, but if I did, I wouldn’t be afraid to call. I’m not really big on meeting new people, but it doesn’t scare me.

My name is Braver, after all, so it stands to reason that there are few things that I am afraid of. Except for maybe one thing: the terrifying ordeal of selecting my own food and bringing it to the cook at a Mongolian Barbecue. That scares me to death, but who isn’t afraid of doing that?