Men and manicures

In a scene from Mad Men, star ad man Don Draper recoils at the thought of getting a manicure. The founder’s son and part-owner of the firm quickly sets him straight by saying that his father, one of the most rugged men he’s ever know in his life, would get a manicure every week. Once a week may be too much, but I firmly believe a man should get his nails done, at the very least, every time he gets a haircut.

All men are aware of the multitude of reasons why they should sport well tended digits - professional appearance, infection prevention through cuticle care, the socially awkward appearance of man-talons or worse, the unintended scratching of an innocent bystander.  The most compelling reason, of course, is sex -as in the opposite sex.    

When polled, women consistently say the hands are one of the first things they notice when meeting a man for the first time. A friend confessed that she found hair on the back of men’s hands sexy.  My sister used to say she could never marry a man who came home with dirt under his nails. 

For a woman, a man tells the story of his life through his hands - rough life, rough hands; soft hands, soft life.  Even Scarlet O’Hara’s cover of living the highlife was blown the moment Rhett held her ungloved hands.

I’ll never forget the brief moment a colleague held my shoulder to keep me from getting bumped by someone passing. In the brief moment his rough, calloused hand touched my shoulder I sensed a boy who played outdoors, built forts, went camping, played high school football and fixed cars on the weekend.  Although he’s now in management and spends his days in a suit and tie, his hands said his position was never a given. 

Touch being the most intimate of gestures, wouldn’t a man want to put his best hand forward when stroking the arm (or other limb) of a blazin babe?  Why risk killing the romance of holding hands by poking your partner with an assaulting hangnail?

Traditional barbershops of decades past would routinely offer manicure services.  I’d like to know who’s responsible for killing off this service. I’ll bet it was the nail biters. Whatever the reason, I’m on a crusade to make the service ubiquitous to men everywhere.  Hopefully I’ll succeed. I’m keeping my manicured fingers crossed.

Affair guilt

I travel alone regularly and there are a few certainties that occur on each of these trips.  The first two are that I won’t eat well, too much junk food, or sleep well, too accustomed to my husbands body taking up most the mattress. Next, is that I’ll be privy to an adulterous confession.

The men out number the women, but that’s not to say the women participate any less.  Each story is different, some are passionate, most are pitiful, all are predictable.

I’m no longer surprised how quickly men spew out the details of their affairs.  They never boast; they bemoan.  Ralph (of course not his real name) shook his head,  “I have a mistress because my father had a mistress, and I’m sure my uncles all had mistresses.  It’s what you did to show you were a man” Maintaining his woman for over twenty years made him feel both guilty and stuck.  “She never made a life for herself” he claimed, “ She never married or had children because of me.”  Now that he’s older, and less energetic and pressed to prove his manhood, he wants out of his time-share.  “I wish she would just go away.”

Most men think their wives aren’t aware of their affairs.  When faced with the low probability that twenty years of funneling money to a secret girlfriend would go unnoticed, Ralph agreed that maybe his wife had her suspicions.  A look of sorrow suddenly overtook his face. I’m not sure if it was over the thought of the pain he was causing his wife by his betrayal, or her perceived indifference over his actions.

Jeremy (ditto with the phony name) clutched two hands full of hair as he wailed that he was a sick man.  His addiction to younger women, he repeatedly stressed, had nothing to do with his wife.  “I love my wife, but when I’m with a younger woman, I am younger.”  But he wasn’t.  He was still 42 years old, and contrary to what his ego would like to believe, just another unremarkable client, which uncovered another certainty:

Whether through sex, drugs, alcohol, or plastic surgery, it’s easier to pay, than to face reality.