Women change--allegedly--only to change.
Admittedly, I used the allegedly to be polite and not be accused of being sexist...which I have been known to be. My wife has proved the former point on many occasions. I am constantly arguing against some change in our lives. On occasion, I am successful.
Yesterday, I wrote about painting my “office”. I have been suffering from an extreme case of why-do-today-what-you-can-put-off-until-tomorrow. Change was not necessary, merely a means to avoid a less-appealing activity. I could live with the color scheme and fading of paint until the day I die, but that would mean sitting down and using my brain. Both activities require my hands, but in a different way. Typing a few hundred thousands words, making necessary content and editorial changes along the way seems like a chore too far.
Manual work seemed more appealing...
Plenty of clichés, sayings, and quotes about the differences between men and women float into and out of conversations. One of these concerns the urge vs. the unwillingness to change.
There is a cogent reason for male aversion to change: work is always involved. Women love to demand something new or different, but rarely lift a finger to affect the desired change. Case in point: we are now renovating roughly half the ground floor to include the kitchen. Guess who does most of the preparation for the arrival of various companies, which will do the work. I used to do most things myself, but have more or less retired from such life (which does not include slaving for my children to save them money).
Yesterday, I had to listen to moaning about how difficult it is to sort out drawers and closets. This required mere thought, as opposed to lugging boxes and bags and trash. My daughter received a panicked call to come and help: not to carry, but to decide what can be kept and what can go. I continued carrying, after pointing out who wanted to have everything new. These are not words any women wants to hear. Or that I was happy with what we had.
Sport has changed.
When I was growing up, weather was rarely a factor. We played soccer (football was something different, because I had yet to discover the wider world) in any weather and on any surface. Only blinding snow could hinder a game of hockey on a pond; my mother often had to drag me home after it was too dark to see the puck. I don’t recall ever feeling the cold, about which she complained. We had too much fun to notice conditions. Later, I attended a private school that could not afford an indoor rink, which meant that we often had to shovel snow before being able to practice. Although we felt sorry for even-poorer schools that had to play soccer on a converted pasture, we felt superior to the rich kids that enjoyed cushy conditions on their covered ice rink. Pasture or ice softened by the sun: the game went on. Now, kids play on indoor ice. Soccer can only be played on manicured fields. I wonder if kids experience the same joy....
What made me think of this? Once again, news from FIFA congress has tried to raise the specter of scandal. Despite a long-standing and stated objective to share the game with all regions (and not play out the competition in the same countries, like England, US, and Germany), many still cannot understand the choice of Qatar as a site for a World Cup competition. It is too small. It is too new to the game. It is too hot. Coddled players can play only under perfect conditions. What happened to the original purpose of the game: to play anywhere, anytime, and under any conditions? Kids play the “beautiful game” in such heat? Why can’t the stars—those worshipped by such kids—compete under the same conditions?
Sport has changed...and not always for the better...