My Husband Hits the Target

Who would you want to change your tire the clean well dressed white shirt collar worker who sells pharmaceuticals for a living or the scruffy blue-collar laborer with his dirty hands? What a striking contrast between these two different types of men. My daughter and I were returning from our Monday morning art classes when we felt something unusual about the way the SUV was handling pulling off to one side, then we realized it was lopsided. I told her to pull over on the side of the road so we could check the tires. Sure enough we had a flat tire. We were on a busy street in front of nearby a hotel parking lot so I suggested we pull in there so we could change the tire. I had fully expected to change the tire myself. I know how to do it but the funny thing is I’ve rarely had to change a tire all by myself  because every time a man has stepped up and volunteered to do the job for me. I know how to check the oil, the tire pressure, brake fluid, and other fluids in the car. I have changed the oil and filter in a vehicle at least three times in my life including the transmission oil pan and gasket. Being the lady that I am I could not refuse to allow a man to be the gentlemen in assisting a ‘damsel in distress although I am far from helpless. But today’s event was interesting as two men came to my aid.

The first gentlemen to my rescue happened to have just checked out of his hotel room sitting in his car on the cell phone as he watched us remove the jack from the back of the vehicle and start working on loosening the spare tire from underneath. He was wearing gray dress pants, white neatly pressed shirt and a tie with clean white soft hands. The white knight in shining amour was talking to his mother on the cell phone while giving us minimal instruction. Yes, I said instruction. He was afraid to get his hands dirty as every time he touched something he looked at his hands, wanted to wipe them on his pants and said, “My mother will kill me.” then refrained himself. After a short while he stepped back to his car to fetch a tissue to wipe his hands.  When he finally got off the phone he attempted to help us some showing us how little he knew about changing tires. Even I knew that you should loosen the lug bolts before the tire is lifted off the ground or otherwise the tire would spin as you tried to loosen them. As my daughter and I traded off turns pumping the jack the gentlemen would test it by shoving the flat end of the lug-nut wrench under the tire to see if it was high enough. Then he would coach us, just a little bit more as we pumped the jack. Here we were on our knees on the pavement with him standing there with the wrench in his hand coaching us. I will have to say that exercise was felt in my leg muscles the next day. I didn’t know changing a tire could be such an exercise.

The second gentlemen was a blue-collar worker driving a beat up old van no  doubt carrying his tools for his business wearing the typical blue work shirt with matching pants that were soiled, adorning a baseball cap, and dirty hands. The man showed up when my daughter was taking her turn pumping this cheap jack that came with the vehicle. It was a pain to use because  you have to remove and reposition the crank after each turn because you could not make a full circle turn. I doubt very much the blue-collar worker had business dealings in the hotel but more than likely spotted us from the street and pulled in to help us. We had just got the tire up off the ground when the Mr. Clean attempted to loosen the lug nuts. Naturally the tire started to spin being freed from the ground. This is when the blue-collar worker stepped in to take over. He quickly pumped the jack to knock down the weight of the vehicle enough to loosen the bolts. From this point on we ladies stood by to watch this knowledgeable and able man with his dirty hands finish the job for us.  I guess he didn’t like seeing us ladies on the ground in our skirts, and the other gentlemen not willing to get in and really be of assistance as he could have done. That is probably why he stopped in the first place seeing this  spectacle. Mr. Clean seeing things were under control went back into the Hotel to wash his hands.

I suppose it is in most men to want to be a hero in the eyes of women. They want to show their strength or just naturally want to help the weaker vessel. Perhaps their respect for two women who look like women are deserving of their attentions. They didn’t want us to spoil our knees, soil our hands, and dirty our dresses. I can appreciate a man who is not afraid to do the dirty work, or the physically demanding work to spare us but I am capable of doing many things without the help of a man. The truth is most of us women can and will do the job if there isn’t a man around who will do the job that is necessary. I feel honored when a man treats me with such respect so I will not deny him the opportunity to rise to the occasion. It is not just good for me but also good for his own ego. Just because we can do it does not mean we have to. I can admire a man who puts forth the greatest effort to tackle the toughest things, stand against the enemy, stand strong against opposition, willing to put himself at risk for the good of others. That is a real man. I have little respect those mamby-pamby kind of guys who are so weak and feeble-minded that they cannot tackle the smallest of challenges or opposition. I fear that our great country is filled with them. Where are the real men anymore? If men do not stand up then women will rise to the occasion and are doing so in record numbers in business and in politics. When men fail to lead women can do the job but our country would be best served with strong leadership by real men. Real women want real men.

I am thankful for both men that came to help me but my admiration goes to the honest hard-working blue-collar worker who understands and knows the meaning of hard work.  He probably gave up part of his lunch break to aid me. But the pill pusher who is not willing to get a little grease on his hands is of little use to me. I couldn’t help but wonder if he is part of big pharmacy and the convoluted scheme to control ‘we the people’ with this monstrosity of the Obama Health Care Plan. If anything is going to change in America it will come from the backs of honest American workers where the rubber meets the road be it men or women. Yes, I would prefer it be the men so I don’t have to change the tire but if you don’t I will.    ~ Debra Carmona