Who doesn't love Christopher Walken?

Monday, December 2, 2013

The Definition of Manhood

I've seen several articles about "what it is to be a man".  Most of which have to do with the lack of "real men" in today's society.  They talk about men becoming more effeminate, substituting the classic methods of communication for the modern electronic pathways, avoiding physical confrontation and so on.  To me, this means that we, as a progressive species, require an updated definition of "manhood".

Now I still firmly believe in some of the classic points in the definition, but with the progress in technology and civilization, some of the classics have become obsolete.  A man should not be defined by his profession, what he drinks, what he wears, or his car.  A man should be defined by how he lives his life.

In the past, a man was someone who got his hands dirty.  Just because you work with your hands or serve your country does not mean you are a "true man".  What makes you a man is how you do your job.  Your willingness to learn, progress in your respective profession, respect authority figures but know when to challenge their judgement and take the opinions of your subordinates seriously.  If you are good at what you do and respect yourself at the end of the day, you have earned my respect as a man.

Technology is growing at an exponential rate.  These days most people can't spend hours talking on the phone.  Not necessarily because they don't want to, but because we're so busy these days.  Also because most people have cell phone plans with time restrictions.  Land-lines are a dying breed of telecommunication.  Just because communication isn't as vocal as in the past, doesn't mean it's less personal.  A man that can hold a solid conversation, regardless of the medium, is a good man.

Physical confrontation is such a primitive form of self-expression.  A good man isn't someone that always gets in fights in the street, whether he wins or not.  Most fights I see are over the smallest things; a look, a snide remark, etc.  To me that's a short temper, not a man.  A good man should know how to handle himself when he finds his liver pickled, and understand that not everyone has this ability.  A good man doesn't start a fight, he finishes it.  Whether by words or actions, when it's done it's done, win or lose.

I now realize how much of a wall of text this has become, so I suppose I should wrap this up.  I believe a real man is someone who has respect for others.  A man is not defined by what he does or has, but by who he is.  There are boys, there are men, and there are good men.  Which are you?

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Esse Quam Videri

The other day my friends and I made a last minute trek up to Manhattan, KS to tailgate the football game.  Now I had previously attended the university but dropped out within the first semester due to the forced nature of my enrollment via my mother and step father.  This was my first tailgate of any football game and let me tell you...it was glorious.  Beautiful flocks of college women engulfing the field of dirt, grass and concrete outside the stadium, sporting their Daisy Duke's and ragtag school t-shirts.  It was a sight to behold.

This got me thinking: maybe I should go back to school.  I mean it can't be all bad, right?  Now that the hangover has finally drifted away and life has returned to normal, my day job just doesn't seem to cut it anymore.  Sure it pays well, all things considered, and there's plenty of room for advancement, it just feels like a dead-end.

I've never really had any aspirations or delusions of grandeur until recently, which makes this such an incredibly hard decision.  My opinion of the entire system of "higher learning" is slightly less than optimistic.  I find it incredibly hard to spend the insane amounts of money on books I'll only use for one chapter and general education classes that I'll never use but am still forced to drown myself in for the first two years.

Everyone says that buying a house is the biggest decision of your adult life, but I disagree.  No one thinks to bring up choosing a major in college.  So many people go to school to get a job in a career that pays well.  I can completely understand this way of thinking, but I'm not the type to stay miserable for very long.  I also don't know what I enjoy doing, because most of the jobs I'd be interested in won't hire anyone without a degree, and there's no such thing as an apprenticeship anymore.

Now at the age of 24, I have responsibilities.  I have a car payment, rent, insurance, etc. that require me to have a full-time job.  I work 48 hours a week, there is no time for school unless I can be patient and take a few classes here and there and maybe graduate in my early 30s, then be competing with people 8 years younger than me for entry-level jobs.

This is probably the most frustrated I have ever been in my entire life.  I'm frustrated with the system for putting itself on a pedestal where it absolutely doesn't belong.  Mostly I'm frustrated with myself for not taking advantage of the chance(s) I was given.  Maybe I'll just stay at my current job and climb the ladder, because after all, it is a remarkable company.  Or maybe I'll drop everything, hit the books and you'll find me in a few years as an international businessman for some German automaker.  Only time and banks will tell.

Auf wiedersehen meine Schatzi.

Monday, June 24, 2013

Offense of the Offended Offends Me

The human race, of all things, has become over-regulated so much that it puts pandas to shame.  I'm talking about censorship not only in media, but everyday life.  Political correctness has become a disease in the civilized world.  Now while I say this, I do agree that some things are too radical, too soul-shattering to be talked about or even referenced in any society.  However those instances are few and far between.

Sticks and stones have become flaccid thanks to linguistic shrapnel.  Today we have to be sure to say things that walk the line so as to not offend any specific demographic.  Even then, people will find a way to be made aghast by something as small as a tea kettle enough to boycott an entire company.  Even worse when a CEO shares his personal beliefs and puts them into his business practices.  God forbid people have their own views and opinions and are brave enough to stand up for them in the world of today.

People refuse to understand that words are just that.  Words.  Words mean many different things to many different people.  We have acceptable insults that mean EXACTLY the same thing as curse words in most contexts, yet we can't say the four letter version.  They're too crude, too harsh for the ears of these middle-aged children.

Call me ignorant, fine.  Call me arrogant, congratulations.  It's your right as a human being to try and insult me, to share your opinion of me and mine.  But if we're all of a sudden adding a sense of entitlement to our feelings, we might as well abolish language right now and go back to hitting each other with rocks.  I've been stockpiling them for years in the cave where I apparently live, with my inferior intellect and intolerance of jackassery.

Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Blessed Art Thou Among Sheep

If you have to think you're blessed to have things which others don't, think again.  I'm far from religious, but it is my firm belief that if we are indeed blessed, it's with life and life alone.  Everything beyond that is from our own determination and hard work.  Things are not simply given to us by some magic man in the clouds in return for our worship.  If you want something, work for it.  If you need something, work harder for it.  Don't lie in wait with your eyes closed, muttering words that only yourself will hear.  That solves nothing.

Saying things like "I'm so blessed to have got this new job" in earnest, cause so many questions to come up.  What about the other applicant(s) that really needed that job?  What if one of the applicants were homeless?  Maybe your god doesn't think they deserve it as much as you, even though their family is starving.  If you truly are so blessed to have a one-up on so many other people, why not be humble and share than be a braggart and inform all of Facebookdom of how blessed thou art?

Gods don't have Facebook pages.  They can't see how thankful you are when you post a status proclaiming it.  And when I said 'share', I mean donate your own time and/or money directly to those in need, rather than throw money on a plate to pay the church's mortgage.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

My Beef with "Click it or Ticket"

I've heard more ads for "click it or ticket" recently than I ever remember.  This got me thinking....this law is horseshit.  As are a few others (speed cameras) but for now let's just focus on this.  No one other than myself is endangered by my seat belt or lack thereof, so who is the state to protect me from myself?  Not only is the safety provided by a seat belt negligible, they can also do more harm than good in certain situations.  Something like a 5-point racing harness is more safe in most situations, but is not street legal because in the case of a roll-over, you're unable to lean and if the roof caves....you get the idea.

If we have a seat belt law, why is there no mandatory helmet law for motorcycle riders?  The statistics for safety between the two are roughly the same.  They both help in the low speed accidents, but helmets save lives in those cases, whereas seat belts just try to soften the blow of the 200 mph airbag deployment.

Personally, I will always wear my seat belt just for the peace of mind.  But the state, nor the federal government have any right to tell me that it is mandatory.  They're simply using it as a way to generate revenue.  If they truly wanted to keep us safe, we would have little to no freedoms.  Smoking is legal because of all the money the states make, and yet it kills more people in a day than probably an entire year's worth of vehicle accidents.  If you're going to make laws concerning the safety of your citizens and take away our right to endanger ourselves, at least be consistent.

Sunday, May 5, 2013

The trip of all trips - Colorado in the spring

This past week I was blessed with the first week of paid vacation in my working career.  I have a couple friends who moved to this quaint little town, 8 hours from home, a little over a year ago and I had yet to visit them.  What better way to spend a vacation?

The drive was surprisingly easy, though boring.  I had to negotiate a violent 30mph headwind that put an embarrassing dent in my gas mileage, but aside from that it was pleaseant.  I was a bit confused when I noticed the toll roads used cameras and license plates to charge motorists and bill them via snail-mail.  I'm used to stopping at the little booths and handing money to the sweet older woman trapped in a box for 8 hours a day.

Upon my arrival, my friends and I exchanged handshakes and immediately sauntered off to a bar...at 3 in the afternoon.  The bar to start the vacation was a renowned establishment dubbed "The Mayor".  The bartender was a gorgeous woman, and nice as can be, which is uncommon here in my hometown.  They had roughly 100 beers on tap (no that's not an exaggeration).  I also ordered one of their pizzas which, by no stretch of the imagination, was phenomenal.  I would've been fine if we just camped there for the duration of my stay but alas, there was much more to see.

The next day was spent touring the local breweries.  The first on the list was Odell's.  Unfortunately it was under major renovations, so the tour only lasted about 20 minutes.  The guide was very well spoken and knew her stuff, it was a shame we couldn't do the full tour.  Now the next....was incredible.  We stopped by New Belgium for their last tour of the day and got possibly the best tour guide I have ever had for anything.  He told jokes, he told the (romanticized) story of how the brewery came to be, he served us about 5 or 6 beers, and kept us entertained and fully engaged for almost 2 hours.  I have half a mind to move to this city just to beg them for a job until they get tired of me.

The final day consisted of dressing in the swankiest of garb and throwing back a few Mint Juleps while we watched the Kentucky Derby.  We got the other patrons sitting at the bar to put a few bucks on a horse of our choosing.  I was torn between Verazzano and Orb....I chose wrong.  Even after the loss, it was great fun.  The night was topped off with some games of pool and the most delicious Old Fashioned I've ever had.

I set off for home, miraculously, at 8am today.  I missed the little town of Ft. Collins and my friends as soon as I crossed its eastern border.  The return trip was miserable because of this.  I can't even sleep because I've been perusing Craigslist for the past few hours trying to find a job worth uprooting myself for.  I have nothing against the Midwest or my hometown.  However, out of everywhere that I've been, I could see myself settling in northern Colorado.  In this ever-evolving utopia of beer dubbed Ft. Collins.

Friday, April 26, 2013

How I Came to Own Peaches - My 1986 Toyota MR2

Recently I've been seeing a lot of people posting stories of what led them to buy their special cars and it inspired me to tell my own, in a length fashion...because blog.

Well I should start off by saying that I grew up in a GM family.  The only non-GM car any male in my family has owned, was my father and his Mark I Volkswagen GTI before I was born.  My father currently has a 2003 Silverado and his brother, a 1964 Corvette convertible with a 327 (drool).  Even my first two vehicles were 1980's Camaros and I broke the mold when I bought my 1985 Dodge D150 SWB pickup.

With gas prices on the rise, and my Dodge only having 3 gears mated to a 318 V8...it was time for a change.  I started looking for a small import to putt around in and still have a bit of fun.  All I asked for was that it had a manual transmission and had a decent aftermarket for once I got the urge for go-fast parts.

I saw an ad on Craigslist for a 1998 Honda Prelude, 5spd and bad paint that was at the top end of my price range.  Upon seeing the car in person, the seller failed to mention a few things.  It had been in a wreck, it had high miles, windshield was cracked completely across, wipers didn't work, and 3rd gear synchro was going out.  The test drive wasn't much better.  It torque steered like crazy, the synchro was frustrating, the exhaust was annoying and droned incessantly, etc, etc.  I left and continued my search.

I posted an ad on my local "racing" forum that I was looking for a small import, had to be 5spd, had to be RWD, and had to run.  A few people chimed in with their rotary RX-7s but rotaries are beyond me.  A few weeks later once I had started to give up hope, because anything that interested me was far out of my price range, a local sheriff's deputy chimed in that he had a 1985 Toyota MR2 5spd that needed very little work and he was willing to let go for half of my budget.  So I jumped.

We met atop a parking garage in downtown and my lord....I had never seen a car so small.  My truck was dwarfed by a buddy's F150, and my truck dwarfed this little micro-machine.  The car was accurately described to me upon inspection.  The paint was good but it had a horrendous off-center silver stripe.  The interior was half tan, half brown and there was no shift boot.  But for the price, it seemed like a reasonable deal.  Then came the drive.

Directly under the parking garage ran a road with a beautifully abandoned S-curve.  Getting used to driving a manual again took a little bit of slow driving and remembering, but I got the hang of it by the time I exited the garage.  I started down the aforementioned road.  I have no idea how fast I was going but I'm sure it wasn't within the legal limit, but I didn't care.  Not one car had put a smile on my face as big as the one that tore, not cracked, across my face when I hit those bends.  Not even my 450hp Camaro.  I had to have it.

I got back to my truck and the owner of the MR2, unable to shake my smile.  He knew I wanted the car because he asked "So...what day works for you?".  We scheduled a date for purchase and parted ways.  I was still smiling when I got home.

The morning of the day we were scheduled to meet, my heart was broken.  I had a voicemail.  Apparently this man had lent the car to his cousin, who had parked the car downtown on the biggest drinking night of the week.  It was rear-ended overnight and the engine was basically sitting in the cockpit.  I was furious.  And as stubborn as I am, I had to have an MR2.  I got on the internet and found another one....1000 miles from home, in Atlanta, GA.

I exchanged texts with the owner of this one, set up a time for him to meet me at the airport, convinced a buddy of mine to fly one way and drive home immediately after landing.  So we bought our tickets and boarded our plane at 6:45am.  I baffled the crew and surrounding passengers when I ordered a beer at 7am, but I was flying 1000 miles to spend $2300 on a car I had never seen in person...I needed it...and I wasn't charged for it.

Anway, we landed and the car arrived shortly after.  I was a little surprised when I noticed it was a hardtop as I had never asked and naturally assumed that it had a sunroof.  I noticed it had been in a front collision at some point because there was no front bumper and the support had been shoddily repaired.  All 4 tires were bald, the speedometer didn't work and I noticed the struts were blown.  Considering one-way return tickets bought the same day would probably cost as much as the car itself, I bought the car.  It was more fun than the flight anyway.

So we got all the paperwork together, shook hands, got the tires replaced and embarked on our 16 hour drive home.  This was probably the single greatest experience of my life.  Granted my calves were absolutely GONE after a few hours of no cruise control, but it was fun regardless.  It was incredible getting to know the car over such a long period.  Going through the back roads deep in the hills of Arkansas was amazing.  Even with a 270lb passenger and used tires, the handling was that of a cat on carpet.

It was long, risky, uncomfortable, and incredible.  Doing something similar is not for the feint of heart, but I highly recommend it if you think you can handle it.  These little cars stolen from Pontiac and re-engineered by the Japanese are one of the most overlooked tuner cars.  Mid-engine, rear wheel drive, the platform almost all supercars are based off of.  The handling is insane.  Sure they lack a little in the "go" area, but that can be remedied over time.  If you find an MR2 for sale, just go and drive it.  You won't regret it.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013


I know most of my blogs have been rants about other people or society's problems.  Those are extremely easy and more common knowledge compared to self-reflection.  I promised some of my readers that I would write something positive for once, and this is as close as I can get for now, so bear with me.

We've all done things in our pasts that we aren't exactly proud of.  Most of mine involve the way I have treated and/or dealt with relationships or women in general.  Those of you who follow me on Facebook know that I spare no expense at ripping people new holes for pooping.  In person I am quite terrified of confrontation.  It's not that I'm overly concerned with what people think of me, they probably judge me enough just by looking at me...at least I've heard that from a few people.

Admitting to something you've done that's less than desirable in an ethical sense is one of the hardest things to do for most people, and justifiably so.  No one wants to be "the asshole".  At points it seems necessary, but as we get older we realize that we were WAY out of line.  Going back and apologizing to people is a nightmare for many reasons.

You never know how your apology is going to go over.  Some say they don't remember the incident, others say "don't worry about it, water under the bridge", but some will go apeshit - for lack of a better term - and castrate you for even having the gall to contact them.  So here are a few of my personal problems, so you people know I am indeed human.

Confrontation terrifies me.  I'm more comfortable typing than actually talking to people.  It gives me time to think, choose my words, and not worry about getting slapped/punched.  I still have an extremely dark sense of humor but my filter is on when I go out into civilization.  Once I go out with a woman a few times, and it doesn't seem to be going well on either end, I tend to sever contact entirely.  Well, sometimes not entirely, but I give nondescript answers and deflect damn near every direct question.

I promise to all of my readers, and then some, that these faults WILL change.  I will be more outwardly spoken, open with potential wife-material, answer direct questions directly, and maybe even nice to strangers I find repulsive.  That last one isn't guaranteed, but I'll try.

I encourage anyone reading this to do the same, or at least attempt it.  It will open doors you closed or at least make you feel better with yourself.  No matter how difficult it is, give it a shot and you won't regret it.

Chicken and Waffles,

Mr. Two

Monday, April 1, 2013

Fair Weather People - Fans, Friends, Christians

We all know them, we all hate them.  The bandwagoners, the turncoats, the 'all-of-a-sudden-interested in sports' people.  Fair weather fans.  These are the people who are absolutely nowhere to be found during a  team's lull.  They may even talk a little trash if a team gets a win after a losing streak.  But bet your bottom dollar that if that team gets on a streak - look what the cat dragged out.  'Fans' come out of hiding holes not seen since 'Nam.

I'm posting this because my hometown has finally united because we have a team in the NCAA Final Four and it's only the second time in the school's history.  Is this something incredible?  Damn straight.  Am I going out and buying black and yellow everything, claiming to have supported them all season and talking about the team like I carry any weight or ownership?  Heeeellllllll no.

All over my social medias I see people who probably never even knew this team still existed starting to spontaneously care, buy all sorts of memorabilia, some have even gone as far as to set off some leftover fireworks.  I just couldn't take it anymore and had to say something and when I did, they called me cynical.  Now I work in retail, so that has some truth to it, but this is not the case.  I am beyond happy that this town finally has something to cheer about.  I will go to the bar and watch the game.  I will hope they go all the way.  But you won't see me out screaming like a jackass with a letter painted on my chest calling them "my team".

Occasional friends are the same way.  When things are going well, they're always around.  Then you hit a rough patch.  It could be because of money, a relationship, your job - but they sense trouble and hit the bricks.  Once they see you've gathered yourself they'll come back around.  It's kind of a crummy deal, but some people thrive on dysfunctional relationships oddly enough.

Fair weather Christians really strike close to home with me.  I grew up Catholic.  That means private education K-12, and yes....it was a nightmare, but a good education.  I was recently in an argument with a woman claiming to be Catholic, over the issue of gay marriage.  She was using the typical "Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve", Bible this, Jesus that approach.  This woman is unmarried, in an on/off relationship with a man and they have two children together.  If you're going to claim a faith I believe it is your obligation to follow the teachings rather than disobey and use confession to wash your hands of your past.

Catholics/Christians are also obligated to attend Mass once a week, preferably on Sunday.  I was told in school "If you somehow manage to miss Mass every single week of the year, the ONE service you MUST go to is Easter service."  No.  Just, no.  Claiming a belief system means you accept its rules without amendments.  If someone tells me "I'm Catholic buuuttt......".  No.  You can't Bible.  I live within walking distance of two or three churches.  I almost got in multiple wrecks yesterday from all the idiot drivers rushing to get their Jesus fix for the year.  These churches haven't been this busy even on Christmas.

Your team sucks this year?  Who cares.  Your friend is having a hard time?  Talk to them.  Buy them a beer.  The Bible doesn't agree with your lifestyle?  It's not for you.  If you're going to claim something, do it right.  Don't avoid it in company because you're embarrassed or ashamed, be there for people close to you and practice what you preach.  All that jazz.

Kiss kiss - bang bang,

Mr. Two

Friday, March 22, 2013

Christian Nation Crock of Shit

I can't count how many times I've heard America referred to as "a Christian nation".  Every time I hear it I just want to reach out and slap whoever was a big enough idiot to mutter the words.  Why would a country founded on religious freedom ever claim to be sponsored by only one?  Saying the nation belongs to one religious doctrine is ignorant and vain.  Now here's why.

Let's start it off by simply applying Christian beliefs.  Life begins at conception, yet so many "Christians" are pro-choice.  Some take the passive-aggressive route and claim they believe it's wrong, but women should still have the right to choose.  By that logic, I should be able to choose a stranger at random and strike them down without repercussion.

Murder is wrong regardless of reasons, yet we still have the death penalty.  We go to war with other countries for their resources and call it a "holy war".

We're beginning to take God out of our pledge of allegiance.  Most television networks censor the word "God".  Prayer is being taken out of schools.  We have legal prostitution.  Our culture promotes drunkenness.  Sex sells, etc. etc.

Personally, I couldn't be happier that we aren't a Christian nation.  I hate being badgered daily by various denominations.  There's so many, and they differ in the smallest ways in so many things and claim truth.  I grew up Catholic from kindergarten through my senior year of high school, and no I did not have a Fr. Badtouch.  All it taught me was intolerance, hatred and fear, despite what the clergy tells you.  Sure religion can be a great source for morals, but when you tell a child he can't take a candy bar without paying for it or he'll spend his entire existence after death in pain, torture and hell-fire ..I begin to question your motives.  People should not do certain things because those things are wrong and hurt others, not because they'll "burn for eternity".  Not until I opened my mind to new things did I realize how horrible Christianity truly is.  I cleared almost my entire list of mortal sins in one afternoon without stepping foot in a confessional.

Do this, feel bad or go to hell.  Judge people for their beliefs and practices, raise your noses at them and walk away or worse, try to "save" them.  Completely ignore or misinterpret MASSIVE amounts of scripture to suit your individual beliefs.  Condemn others for their lifestyle choices and become aghast when one returns the favor.

This is what Christianity in America has become.  In a country founded on freedom of religion, I happily hold allegiance to none.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Car Culture - Evolving but not exactly changing

We all have grandparents, or at least did at one point.  Right around the age of 14 you start getting into cars, planning out your first car.  What it will be, what you'll want to do to it, the color, the wheels, the engine, etc. Your dad or grandpa will speak of the olden days.  Of their first cars, which they bought for what now is considered a week's pay, and how they spent weekends in the garage tweaking them and making them faster.  Their glory days.  The days which are now yours.

The culture surrounding the automotive industry is astounding no matter which way you look at it.  You have the innovators coming up with more efficient cars, new technology and safer vehicles.  You have the designers working with clay models and wind tunnels to find the most impressive lines you have ever seen.  Then you have the batshit crazy people.  These are the people that buy these cars and then do to them the unthinkable.  They change everything, making the car their own.

These people have been around since cars have existed.  Most notably the muscle car era, with 8 cylinders of insanity, suspension that handled as if it didn't exist, and traction like driving on sheets of ice.  The cars you see at shows with old men in lawn chairs right behind, drinking beer and talking to the couple next to them about these damn kids and computerized machines.  I've talked with a few of these gentlemen and most of them have been holding onto these cars for decades.  It's incredible.  They have stories of wrecks, resurrections, donuts, wheelies, races, anything you can do with a car they have done, and will happily tell you about it all.

Then you have the guys who are obsessed with what I refer to as "the forgotten generation" of cars;  the 80s.  These cars look as though their designed with rulers.  Extreme angles, minimal curves and drastically under-powered engines.  These guys are more nuts than the muscle car guys.  They tear out the old engines, do insane swaps, like throwing a Chevy 350 into an old RX-7.  Hell, I've even seen a big block Chevy engine in a CRX that didn't even fit in the car, but by God they put it in there...and boy did it run.  These guys seem to be less about form and more about "hot, nasty, bad-ass speed" - Eleanor Roosevelt.

Now you have the low crowd.  The kids buying much newer cars, slamming them to the ground and putting on oversized wheels with undersized tires.  There are still the modern muscle car guys as well.  Working with incredibly complicated engines like Ford's 4.6 modular engine and Chevy's prized LS series motors, which require a second mortgage to replace the top-end.

I guess my point is this:  As long as there are cars on the road, there will be men willing to spend half of their annual salary to create their own personal masterpiece.  Sure it may be becoming slightly less popular with modern culture, but who cares right?  Car culture is one of the very few international pastimes.  So get out there and do something with yours.  It can be as small as putting a silly decal on your window or as large as a frame off restoration.  You don't need deep pockets to create something.  See it, do it, and drive 'til it dies.

Yours in oil,

Mr. Two

Thursday, March 7, 2013

The Time of the Sir - Forgotten but not entirely gone

Now before we get started let me clarify.  I'm not talking the medieval knighted Sir.  This is about the 1950's American Sir.  The man with a good suit and a firm handshake.  A man among men, and not "overly manly man".  This is the needle in the haystack in modern society.

Here is my further explanation of what, in my opinion, deems a man a "sir" or "gentleman".

As I stated, this man should have at least one good quality and well-fitting suit that can be worn for any occasion.  You can do anything with a black suit, so we'll go with that.  Develop a relationship with a good tailor and their work will do wonders for your confidence and first impressions.  He should dress to impress wherever he goes.  This doesn't necessarily mean always wear a suit, but don't go to a social function in lounge clothes.

This man has a firm handshake.  I've grasped many hands in my 24 years and quickly learned the many different grips.  For the love of all that is holy do not try to give me a limp, lifeless hand.  There are no words for how much I hate this.  There is such a thing as "too strong".  Do not strangle or crush my hand, this isn't a contest.  Don't grip too early and crush my fingers.  A good handshake should lock at the thumbs, there is no debating this.  None of that warrior, grab the forearm crap.  I don't have a knife up my sleeve, stop it.  Try to squeeze more with the center of the hand rather than the fingers.  Grasp with the fingers, squeeze with the palm.

A gentleman doesn't waste time on those who waste theirs.  This extends anywhere from the people who complain at work and do nothing, to those that stay home glued to the TV or computer accomplishing nothing.  Now I don't mean don't be friends with these people, but don't invest in them.  They will eventually drag you down and demotivate you.

He gives women the respect they deserve.  No ladies, this doesn't mean he automatically respects you.  If you dress like a whore, he's wasting his time even talking to you.  Although he should still hold a door or let you take his seat if there are no others, and yes, you should thank him.  There is a difference between common courtesy and respect.  If a woman respects herself, she earns the respect of a gentleman.

Now to the whole point of this blog.

With the gradual demoralization of society, increasing population, decline of adolescent education, this man has slowly worked his way into "endangered" territory.  Employers now require you to spend $60,000+ to get a piece of paper called a "degree" that usually teaches you nothing about your eventual job.  Only the big wigs wear suits to the office and no one shakes hands unless it's an old company still run with "boy's club" ethics.

A disgustingly large portion of society is on welfare with no intent of finding gainful employment.  Either that, or they are content working dead end jobs and living in a small apartment and calling themselves "minimalists".  They get off work and spend countless hours playing Call of Duty or WOW or some other pointless game.

With the constant onslaught of pop culture talking about drinking, dancing, sleeping with random women or men, etc. people feel the need to be whores.  This goes for men and women.  Life is a game they only get to play once, as they so often like to remind people.  I've opened so many doors for people without being thanked or even acknowledged.  A select few have even had the audacity to look at me like I did something wrong.

People of the internet, I implore you, acknowledge and encourage this behavior whenever and wherever you witness it.  Encourage people to get off their ass and make something of themselves.  HR people, focus more on a person's willingness to learn rather than their amount of student loans.  A degree doesn't beget work ethics.  Men, stop listening to pop music.  I don't mean stop enjoying it, but stop applying it to your daily life. Open doors, stop calling each other "nigga" and stop calling women "bitches" if you don't know them (some truly are though, and that can't be helped).

Do these things and we can bring back the Sir.