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When men were men were men . . . 11/24/2006 7:33:25 AM
395 and a Wake Up cont'd John Wayne got down from his horse and strode the dusty street in that bowlegged manner of his. Walking tall, he embodied all things a kid admired; masculinity, a barely contained tolerance for women, and a—“don’t fu** with me or I’ll shoot you where you stand, kid”—attitude.
Decades ago, the Duke reigned as the true “Macho Man” and standard bearer of his generation. Back then, on the average, men were quiet; a quick nod of the head or a grunt sufficed for a greeting. They demonstrated no emotion and didn’t show affection to others; nary a peck on the cheek to the missus, or a hug to the varmints. And invoking those three magical words—“I love you” . . . forget about it!
It was a time when a handshake was a silent agreement; no need for contracts, binding arbitration, or lawyers. When a man’s word was his bond.
The old, traditional, stiff in the back, take it the gut and not flinch, persona.
Growing as a kid in those times, life had certain taboos. You never cursed at a boyhood chum (let alone a stranger), it was taken extremely personal, and most times got you a fat-lip. You could let fly with expletives in regards to a third person, but never publicly—more like an aside to a buddy . . . and that was as far as it went.
Fights back then, were mostly shoving matches or pins to the ground with someone’s knees holding down someone’s shoulders. Or in the extreme case, rival gangs of hard-charging youth armed with chains or tire irons goin’ at it behind the tracks. Right out of West Side Story. Not the kind of street warfare you see today; with Uzi’s, Mach 10’s, and Ak-47’s. Now Mortal Kombat and Grand Theft Auto are the norm in representative degrees of violence.
And no drive-bys. The carefree days of Sher’if Matt Dillon, famed forevermore in Gunsmoke, con- fronting the bad guy in face-to-face fisticuffs . . . is history.
Furthermore . . . you didn’t ever . . . ever . . . never . . . badmouth someone’s mother. That would be an open invite to opening up a can of whup-ass.