Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails (or the Diagnosis, Part I)

Yes, I have eaten two of the three. I have eaten an entire banquet made from snake in Hong Kong--I particularly enjoyed the stir-fried snake with chrysanthemum but the rest of the dishes didn’t do that much for me (then again neither does chicken). I do enjoy snails, though, to be honest, most snails are like nuggets of dark brown, rubbery tofu so, as with tofu, it’s really all about the sauce. And, at least when the snails are prepared in the West, the sauce usually involves butter. I have not and will not ever knowingly eat dog, though a roast dog seller on QingPingGaai in Guangzhou, China once tried to convince me otherwise. While I remained steadfast in my conviction not to eat it, I could not stand fast at his stall and so hightailed it out of there (you may disregard the pun). At any rate, the title refers to something I have been missing. Not in my diet but in my life.

I knew that something was amiss was when I began to experience food ennui. Last night, I told a friend I really didn’t care what I had for dinner and she looked at me--the poster child for “Live to Eat!”—in alarm. I’ve been searching for the cause of my dining indifference and have come to the conclusion that my life is imbalanced.

I am a great believer in the Tao; I know that too much or too little of something disrupts life’s harmony.* Coming in the “too little” category is time spent in the “Bro-zone;” that is: I am missing boy energy.

Okay, this seems to make little sense. I am a forty-something woman. I have many, many close women friends. I went to a women’s college. I read Sisterhood is Powerful and In a Different Voice several times. I hate the oppression of patriarchy and the violence it has bred. I don’t abide bad table manners, “Dutch ovens,” or contests that involve distance urination. And, having been the dorm mother to 40 high school boys at an East Coast boarding school, I think boys smell bad. Or at least their rooms do, especially if their sweaty hockey uniforms are left drying on the radiators. Eeewww.

In spite of all that, having spent a good deal of the last 25 years around boys and adult males who can easily access their “boy-ness,” I realize that whether you’re a boy, an adult male, or a female, you can experience a lot of positive energy in the “Bro-zone.”

Without benefit of a sociology degree, extensive reading into evolutionary biology, or special attention paid to post-modern gender theory, here’s my highly un-nuanced, overly generalized take on what’s good about boys.

• Their desire to dog-pile, like puppies, whether on a grass field or in the back of a taxi-cab: it’s rambunctious, intimate, messy and someone usually gets hurt but doesn’t complain.
• That they can be picky without being fussy: that is, boys seem to be clear about their wants/needs and come to resolution quickly about how to respond when they aren’t.
• That they have a less angst-ridden relationship with their bodies than females do; they have little day-to-day concern with their bodies.
• That they trust their senses.
• That they like jokes--the practical, the scatological and the punny--and laugh with ease.
• That they form their bonds through doing things and so their memories and loyalties are etched deeply, right down to the cell-level.
• That they are curious and open to possibility (i.e. they're risk takers).
• That they can trust easily (and can be almost irrevocably hurt when betrayed by someone to whom they have given their loyalty).
• That they can stand alongside; they might not always know what to say or do but they will stay in the zone so as not to leave the person alone and unprotected.
• That they don't run the Social Communication De-coder at all times; a cigar can just be a cigar. (Okay, that was a bad example as phallic reference runs high in the bro-zone; the point is, boys can take a comment as it is said, unless it even remotely references anatomy or sex.)
• That they give their friends a lot of room to mess up, to be weird, to be themselves.

In short, at its best, the bro-zone is physical, fun, goofy, less verbal, straight-forward, loyal, protective, less focused on analysis and more on being & doing. I need more of that in my life. You?

*(Caveat: butter, cream, pork and good bourbon are excluded from the “too much” category; any amount of these is the perfect amount.)