Rise and Rise Again, till Lambs Become Lions

I find my tolerance for older single men waining.

Granted,

I used to be one.

Still am in fact

... sort of.

But remember Robin Hood.

Even though he lived in the forest with a bunch of guys doing cool things like swimming and hunting and shooting bad guys, he still had Maid Marian off in a castle pining away for him.

Even if you appear single, you should always have a Maid Marian. Its really nice.

I know this because I've found mine. But she's about two-thousand miles away right now so I have time to do this.

No, the real problem lies with young men who lack nothing, but the gumption to rise up and be men. That's an old phrase so I imagine it's an old problem. I just happen to be of the right age and circumstance to have finally noticed it myself.

I have nothing against the socially inept,

of which we are all members in varying degrees.

But there are some among us, too many I feel, that would rather go back to being fourteen than face the reality that time advances on almost a yearly basis.

I'm 28 years old. When am I going to grow up? I find a wonderful remedy is to look at one's life and recognize what is different now that you are 28... or whatever ripe old number you choose.

You can vote.

You can buy firearms without a parent.

You can open and close bank accounts, get a real job, drive your own car, and not live at home.

If I want to eat, I have to go to the store and buy groceries. The magical self clearing table and self emptying sink is gone from my life.

If I want clean dishes and to avoid botchulism, I have to clean them with dish soap.

I have to buy it.

At a store.

That means a certain amount of my income has to be spent on things I don't drool over in catalogs.

The magic of the bedroom and bathroom floor also disappeared when I moved out of my parent's home. My clothes have forgotten how to clean themselves and appear in my drawer hours after hitting the floor.

The startling thing to me is the number of men my age who still think these things just magically take care of themselves; that if you leave things out, they will somehow organize themselves and be found, clean, folded, sparkling, and or sorted neatly in some appointed place without any effort on your own part.

Its maddening.

And that's leaving out all the other strikingly annoying perceptions and habits of single guys my age- one of which is dating.

I get that rejection stinks.

And I get that sometimes it seems like nobody is interested.

And I further get that "it used to be easier."

And when it stopped being easy was probably about the time you got dumped or dissed or jilted or something horrible which no one else could possibly understand because it was the first time in the history of the world that someone felt lied to and got broken-hearted.

Guess WHAT! Everybody faces rejection!

IT IS A REALITY.

Perhaps we should thank rejection for just a moment for allowing us the chance to move beyond our first crush which we forgot all about because it was kindergarten.

If it weren't for rejection, you would be stuck with that girl from junior high. The one that liked you because she didn't know you yet and that you didn't like back.

Yeah.

That one.

Without rejection, you'd be married to her. So thank rejection.

Please.

It bugs me.

Why can't a guy that is this old learn that when a girl rejects you, you should stop pursuing?

Should he not have learned this years ago? Learn to read body language. There are books on it. Read one. When you've met someone and they seem really nice at first but then turn cold and are hard to get a hold of, stop trying. Just leave her alone. You're wasting your time, making her uncomfortable, and making yourself a nuisance.

Go away.

Also can guys stop singing the inverted Snow White song of, "Someday my princess will come."?

This is not how it works!

She doesn't come to you.

I know too many who think the idea of arranged marriage is a good one.

You have no taste.

Get some.

Your obligation and duty as an adult male is to go out into the world and find HER.

This involves dating.

You have to try out different people and relationships and get to know how to behave generally so that by the time you get to be my age, you're already married because no girl could resist the man you've become.

You've got to learn that its not fun being alone forever.

And if its not, then how much is it worth to not be.

And if its worth a lot like we're talking up there with breathing, then you'd better learn that when you see a girl you have interest in, and you haven't met her, and you still don't have a date, there had better be Hellishly good reasons why not, like that your face is on fire and your hands are chained to an enraged grizzly bear on PCP.

If you look around and none of those things are happening, you better get over there and meet her because if she's good enough to notice, she's good enough to date.

Your excuses will kill you.

Stop thinking before you do something good.

Treat this like the latest dumb thing you did. Did any consequence cross your mind before you did whatever it was you did?

NO.

SO WHY NOW???

Stop it immediately. Stand up and be men.

And can we stop with the high school girl thinking puzzles?

I get that girl's mature faster than boys, but is this really where you are?

When you've met someone interesting, but things seem to be kind of impossible and you aren't sure if this could work out or not- STOP.

Stop your stupid internal dialogue. You've only been on one date anyway.

There's only one question you need to ask yourself,

"Am I still interested?"

If the answer is yes, then you go out again and you find out how you feel from the actual reality of being with her, not at home or on long drives.

If you have something to say, say it to her.

Stop telling your friends what you're wondering.

Build some freaking intimacy between you and her and ask her directly what she thinks about things. You'll get a lot farther, and your friends will respect you more because you don't sound like a sixteen year old girl anymore.

And if you're not interested anymore, stop calling her.

Can we also stop feeling inadequate, unattractive and altogether lost in life?

I am tired of hearing people say how lost they feel.

This is life. Its supposed to be a surprise!

If you plan on getting married someday, having a career, and even a family, then do something about it.

Can everybody just stop worrying about the future for a moment and evaluate what you've learned about the world at this point,

what goals you've set for your future,

what accomplishments no matter how small you've made,

and then start to feel good about it?

Can you please just stop complaining and appreciate for one small moment the infinitesimally small contribution you've made in the world?

Can you for one moment look forward to the future with a little bit of confidence and say to yourself,

"That's where I'm going to be. And this is what I'm going to do to get there."

You find whatever you can do to advance.

You figure out some way to work on it every week and you write it down.

And then you do it.

This practice will give you confidence and direction. You'll find yourself more confident in your future because you're doing something about it today, and you know it. And when you do find someone you're interested in, you'll have developed a direction for your life.

If you plan on growing up someday and getting married, chances are the girl you marry will love you.

Quite a lot actually.

So can you start living like you mean it?

If someone is going to love and adore you, then maybe you ought to start figuring out why.

Then maybe you can walk with a little confidence that you actually do possess some good qualities.

In a world where childhood seems to be extending farther and farther into adulthood, can some of us stand up and shine a little.

Manhood, adulthood, and Robin Hood are what we should be growing up to be. Especially Robin Hood because he could shoot arrows and Maid Marian couldn't live without him.

So go find her.

How to be Romantic

The long Awaited Answer to Your Love Questions

Dear Freaky in Florida,

I know exactly what you're going through. This kind of thing happens all the time to people your age. But because you're young the rules are a little different.

First of all James- were you the one that asked to be anonymous? Well, its okay, nobody'll know your last name is Badia-Suarez anyway. Why the hyphenation though? You aren't married yet. We're going to fix that. First off can I say you're very lucky to write in when you did. If you hadn't you would have missed the opportunity of a life-time.

Let's start with puberty. The girl in your story judging by her height is well into the throes of womanhood. You however are what, 4 feet or so? The day will come when that changes for you. You must avoid the most common "kick-yourself-later" problem ever, the problem of ruining a good relationship before puberty because you thought you weren't interested.

All guys have a beautiful woman they've lost because they didn't do anything when they had the chance. She flirted, he ran away. Now post-puberty, that means after, she won't have anything to do with him because he branded himself a coward before things first started rolling. Now the poor guy's stuck with whatever ugly undesirable girls are left over.

My advice: Get while the gettin's good.

The best way to prove yourself to this girl is to do exactly what you don't think you should do. So I'd say, wright her a song and perform it in public. Make sure lots of people are around, that way she'll know you mean it. Instruments are optional although they do pump up your romanticness by about a thousand points so if you can't find a guitar or a clarinet, at least bring a pair of spoons or something. As for lyrics and tune be original. Don't just do that song from The Little Mermaid, I Want More, or whatever it is. Every other guy does that.

For best results use this as a template, or just copy it exactly since its worked on thousands of girls:

and bring a bouquet of flowers: poppies, carnations, ferns, anything works.

So there you go James. You might think its weird right now, but believe me, in a couple more years unless you're a really late bloomer, you'll be thanking me. And maybe that hyphenated name will get another hyphen.

Freaked out in Florida

A while ago the management here at the Ben Brooksby blog put out an open invitation to our readers for questions regarding anything that might be on their troubled minds. After sifting through the mountains of prank mail and false pretenses we've finally recieved one searingly important question all the way from Lone Cabbage, Fish Camp, Florida.

Dear Mr. Brooksby

I had a question for you. I guess I just need some advice. I'm going to be in sixth grade this year but right now its summer so I'm not anything. I don't like school because the people there are morons and there's this girl that I think likes me. Let me explain. I had to give a report on something I found interesting. Most of the other kids did theirs on Justin Bieber and why Brittany Spears should stop marketing her body to people our age, I mean what is she now? 40? So I did mine on tigers because they're awesome. Well this girl in my class decided I'm some kind of tiger enthusiast. Every day she comes up and stands over me( Oh yeah. She's like six feet tall) and asks me, "How are the tigers today?" Then everybody laughs at me because they're afraid if they don't she'll think they're trying to be a hero or something like the time she beat up the deaf kid for not joining in. I don't mind being laughed at so much but I guess she figured that out cuz then she started elbowing me in the face a lot whenever she can, like in the recess line, the lunch line, the bus line, and every time she gets up to go to the bathroom or sharpen her pencil. But I can live with that too. The worst part is that now I'm in a summer program because my teacher thought I was getting beat up at home and she's in it! But the worst of the worst is that yesterday she passed me a note instead of an elbow on the bus. When I got home, I opened it and it said, "Will you be my boyfriend?"

I don't know what to do. Luckily I get a few more days before I have to go back because of the Seventh of July weekend, but I really need to know what to do because if I answer wrong she might kill me, but I don't know which one that would be. Can someone please help? This is an emergency!

-Freaked out in Florida

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Love and Cape Disappointment.

I'm sitting here listening to a really loud Latin woman in the other room talking to some guy about the deficiencies of math classes. Why are Latin women so loud? And nothing against people getting together, but what's with dumb white guys that think they're making progress when they have a conversation with a woman that has no interest in them?

"Hi family. This is my new boyfriend, Brian." Hector glances out of the corner of his eye at Miguel who's fists tighten. Brian smiles and waves obliviously.

What is going on in this guy's head??? She likes dancing, amazing food, and talking really loud to her Latin friends.

He likes world of war craft, Cheetos, and his mom's Toyota echo.

She's attracted to tall dark guys that speak Portuguese. The kind with eyes that flash when he smiles which only occurs when he sees her. The rest is a steely eyed glare.

He on the other hand is attracted to... well, her right now. Why? Because she's everything that's never rejected him in the past. He sees all the things they have in common like, being in the same class, or both living in America right now. She has long hair unlike his mother and sisters. She has skin tone... she's shaped like a girl. These are things he never noticed before that now seem to answer every problem he's ever had with women.

And on top of every other glaring compatibility is the fact that Fate has brought them together, the same matchmaker that's brought all the great loves of the world together.

He turns from his happy daydreaming back to the girl he will soon make his wife, but what's this!

Who is this foreigner? And why is he kissing her???

The relationship which bloomed so spontaneously five minutes ago now comes crashing to the Earth in a burning screeching fireball of deathness and woe. And so ends another beautiful romance that might have been...

'Twas Beauty Killed the Beast- or - how to kill monsters

Marsupials are a strange breed. They have fur like mammals and give birth to live young, but prematurely according to our standards. Marsupial's come with their very own baby bags with which to carry the prenatal young until such time as they decide to jump out and start fending for themselves. Of course the majority of their diversness resides on the far side of the world on and around the Continent/Country of Australia. That goes without even being said...

North and South America's fossil records indicate that we had our fair share of Marsupial diversity as well but at some point in history the ecosystem was inundated with mammals and the marsupials failed to compete for food and water and so died out.. All that remains of their furry baggy kind are a few squirrels I didn't know about and neither did your sixth grade science teacher, aaaannnnd- the North American Possum or Opossum depending on how old the book is. Unlike the bunny faced fully fuzzified kind of marsupials you find down under, these natives of forests, sheds, and local dumpsters resembles none other than the R.O.U.S.'s of Princess Bride fame. Rodents of unusual size. In other words: Giant Rats.

Yet unlike the giant rats of S. Morgenstern's classic tale, these dog sized creatures have more in common with reptiles than rats. Exchange those heavy incisors for a set of alligator teeth and the fuzzy hair you might expect for the mangy white snaggled hair of a swamp witch and you'll start to get an idea of what the North American Possum looks like.

Now dispensing with any further explanation- the story...

I know a young lady in Tennessee. She lives about 40 miles from Nashville on a small farm. Two nights ago she heard something outside her home. It was her chickens. A week or so ago she built a new coupe for the young hens she'd been raising this year. It so happened that a large ugly Possum had discovered the coupe and had decided to make it his own personal buffet.

This girl isn't very tall and isn't very wide, but what she lacks in stature she makes up for in what a famous southern lady calls being "fragile as coal trucks" or as I like to say "having a face like a dump truck.," but I digress.

Behind the back door of every home this girl's ever lived in sits an old aluminum baseball bat. As far back as she can remember its never been to a game, but two nights ago it played quite a different game. Armed with nothing but this bat, this young lady of which I speak ventured out into the yard gripped by a sensation only a disrupted grizzly bear commands when a tourist feeds her cub Tabasco sauce. There perched on her henly house loomed the dark figure of the biggest swamp gator rat you could ever imagine.

With a mighty heave she let that bat swing as hard as it'd go! A deafening "Ping" rang out across the farmyard followed by the thump of a heavy hairy body armed with four sharp sets of burly claws! Up came a mouth full of razor sharp teeth and a guttural hiss of deranged anger and hate!

There's nothin on this earth so awfully fierce as a possum that's just been distracted from a free meal! But before the beast could get its footing to leap at her she let fly with another hard overhander! This time the PING was accompanied by the crunch a skull makes when it starts to give way. But the Possum doesn't run so much on brain power as it does on raw hatred in the bloodstream and that was now running at a hundred and ten percent!

It snapped its crooked jaws and hissed its fierce black breath at her! But something deeper than a natural protective nature had taken over her otherwise gentile demeanor.. Her heavenly blue eyes now glistened black. Her breath came in heavy gusts like the ones from a bull that's about to charge. A bead of sweat ran down her cheek. Judgment day.

The Rat monster leaped towards her but was pummeled to the ground by an earth shattering shower of hard metallic clanks and crunches the likes of which you've never even nightmared about! The chickens huddled in stunned silence as the killer became the killed.

By the time she'd finished with it, there was more blood on her than on the carcass and the only bone left in tact was the wishbone although the buzzards made quick work of that yesterday. Rather than waste time with a Christian burial which would have been sacrilege anyway since beasts like that don't hail from above, she hauled what was left of it out to the highway where it could stand as a warning to all evil creatures and demons and maybe dissuade some of them from meeting a similar fate.

The bat is safe.

back behind the door

sitting in silence

waiting...

waiting for the time when it can once again strike a blow for justice!

Justice and a marsupial-free continent!