By Lee Dresselhaus / L’Observateur / Febuary 24, 1999

So…. one of the breaking news stories of last year that I discovered whilereading a year old magazine while in my dentist’s waiting room was of yet another study done in the name of science. This one determined, throughextensive research ( undoubtedly fueled by huge wads of your tax dollars ), that men and women have brains that function differently and – gasp – think differently from one another.

Well, duh. Now, there’s a revelation.I may be wrong but I think that most males become aware of some seriously fundamental differences in the way boys and girls think by the time they’re the ripe old age of, say, twelve. And it generally doesn’trequire any study to get this point across. Usually that very firstargument with a member of the female of the species will leave the kid wandering away, stunned and amazed, with that blank I-just-stuck-my- finger-in-a-wall-socket look that he will soon learn to recognize and pity in others. This is how male bonding begins. We adopt the herd mentalityfor our own protection, like musk ox.

We discover very early on that men are basically tactless clowns when it comes to arguing. We tend to initiate an argument with the direct, manly,cavalry charge approach, i.e.; “….now what did you do that for? Geez, thatmakes me mad.” ( Insert your own language, this is a family newspaper.)To which she, out of concern for your wounded feelings, will reply with sincere depth and feeling, “So?” Leaving you confounded, sputtering and confused.

Women, on the other hand, are masters of tact. They clam up, and you haveto come to them. They get this look on their faces that say quite clearlythat you, sir, have somehow offended them greatly and you are beneath contempt. This is a trap. One that we all know but one that we will bemindlessly lured into time after time. After a few minutes of this silentsnubbing we just can’t stand it anymore and will take the bait like starving mice. We say, “What’s wrong?”And they say, “Nothing.”Then, do we quit? Do we cut our losses and say, okay honey, and slink away hoping that whatever little creature that’s gnawing at her inside will die a natural death? No. We do not. We know it’s a trap, we’ve been therebefore, but we smell the cheese and we go for it anyway. We then saysomething like, “Come on, Honey, somethings bothering you. What is it?”And the trap is sprung. The rest of the conversation goes something likethis: Her: Nothing’s wrong. Just forget it.Idiot: Are you sure? Was it something I’ve done? Her: Nothing’s wrong. Just never mind.Idiot: Alright, if you’re sure nothings wrong…Her: Well, if you really must know…..SNAP! Gotcha! Because then, while you’re pinned and helpless, she lets you have it with both barrels, but one at a time. First she will let you knowjust what it is you have done to her to cause this latest huff and, while you’re squirming and attempting to wriggle out of the trap and wondering just how you managed to let this happen again, she lets go with the second barrel. She will remind you of some vague transgression stupidlycommitted by you two years ago, and you find yourself being blamed for things you had no idea about, like the Irish potato famine and the Lindbergh baby thing. Women, like elephants, never, ever forget. Anything.Ever.

Now, this is part of what I mean about men and women thinking differently. She would never have let you set her up like that. When shenotices you acting wounded, sighing and moping and such, and asks you what was wrong, you had better tell her right then and there. Because ifyou try to play her game you’ll end up stewing in your own juices. Theconversation would go something like this: Her: What’s wrong? Idiot: Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Her: Okay.

And that’s that. Furthermore, if you happen to become offended that sheignored your signals that you wanted to communicate some slight that she had committed against you, and you bring to her attention that you are the injured party this time, you will be blamed for starting a fight! It’s enough to make you want to find a busy railroad track, lie down on it, and have a nice nap while you’re waiting for the next train, preferably a slow, painful one.

So, I would think that it’s safe to say that the whiz kids who did that study either hadn’t reached puberty, hadn’t been married, or they took all that grant money and went to the Caribbean someplace until it was gone, then threw something together that is irrefutable and told their boss, “Look what we discovered. Men and women think different! Wow! Can wehave more money?” I have to go now. I can hear my neighbor’s wife calling him and he’s goingto want this spot on the tracks.

Lee Dresselhaus is a regular columnist for L’Observateur

Copyright © 1998, Wick Communications, Inc.

Internet services provided by NeoSoft.

Best viewed with 3.0 or higher