Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Tits and The Patriarchy

Now that I'm finally emerging from a shit storm that lasted roughly two years, the only thing I know for sure is that I'm committed to maintaining a harmonious environment in my own home. That's really all anyone can do. Since this is my home, however, there are men on the periphery. There have been males on the periphery ever since I grew these tits:

Something about tits causes trouble in relationships. All kinds of relationships, actually, because when my mom saw this rack starting to bud, she spazzed. She's got a rack, and Granny the Ho had one too. Mother's main concern was that I'd end up in situations I couldn't manage on account of the rack. She was right, of course, but who listens to her mother when she's fourteen years old and getting an unusual amount of attention?
I got the message that it's best to keep the tits under wraps as a result of the actions of one of the movers the summer my family moved back to Texas. I was 15 and unpacking books in my new bedroom when this fellow came up behind me, pressed his full body into my back, and rubbed his hands all over my torso while he muttered, "Tell me something good," into the hair just behind my ear. I went straight to my mama who told the supervisor to tell his helper to keep his hands off her daughter or she'd be calling the cops. I was standing there and saw the supervisor get a gleam in his eye when he asked for details like he was getting a hard on.

It was gross, and I saw my mother's point about wearing modest clothing. Then I learned how to let my tits do the talking in certain situations. Invariably, however, those are the sort of situations that come back around to bite me in the ass because the man in question only knows the tits. He rarely cares about a thought in my head unless it has to do with how smart he is.

Let me say, here, that all of the fiancees got to know me in addition to knowing the tits. The Man from San Antone knows the full power of the tits, but he is well aware that I'm the one driving them. I may need to drive them in a specific direction to make some money for us both, but that's business in America. Gigi and I have combined the power of my tits and her ass to get our bar bills paid. That's okay too because there's a barter system on the bar circuit.

We must acknowledge that a person's looks are part of the whole package, and how we present ourselves to the world sends a message about who we are. The trouble starts when people label each other based on looks. Take, for example, the recent episode regarding the arrest of Prof. Gates.

Just as people make assumptions about each other based on race, socio-economic status, etc, people make assumptions based on tits. Women do this to each other, too, but most of my experience with people making assumptions comes from interacting with men on a personal level. While these are purely personal observations, I have noticed that many woman share similar experiences so they must represent of some sort of demographic. I'm not sure which demographic, but it's a demographic for sure. Most likely it's the Menopausal Stoner demographic.

Having made this qualification, let me say it pisses me off that some men think I don't know anything about business and politics on account of I've got tits. My education about business and politics began in 1961 when Lyndon Baines Johnson had to suck up to my great uncle in order to secure the Democratic votes in the Golden Triangle area of Texas. That's Beaumont, Port Arthur and Orange. As part of the sucking up process, Lyndon came over to my great uncle's house and bounced me on his lap. I was still a baby then. A few years later, I learned just how much old, drunk white men like to have young girls wiggle on their laps - but those men were not politicians. They were my grandfather's business associates and friends from the country club.

A man may have advanced academic degrees, published books or a CV filled with professional accomplishments, but that doesn't mean he knows more about the real world than I do just because I've been on a feminine trajectory. This same Great Uncle was such a crook that the legendary Percy Foreman was his defense attorney in conflict of interest cases. Percy was known for running a wire through a big cigar and lighting it up just as the other side was about to present their case to the jury. The wire kept the ash secured to the cigar so the jury became mesmerized, watching to see when the ash would fall, so they didn't hear a word from the opposition. The question of innocence or guilt is secondary to the cigar - and in this case, the cigar was just a cigar.

I also learned a lot about business and politics from hanging out with The Man from San Antone. Once we caught a ride to Austin on a little private plane with his father and the Texas Supreme Court Judge 60 Minutes had recently accused his father of buying. A gaggle of trial attorneys joked with the judge that their secretaries were named Lucky, Ducky and Fucky. There may have been a senator there. I can't recall. I know it was a senator who put his hand up my skirt at a party at this same father's building. I refuse to get started on what any observant individual can learn about the price of oil simply by osmosis when you hang out with rich guys and legislators in Texas. So I know about politics and business, the price of oil and the prevailing mindset of the judicial system in America. Growing up Female around men like that informs a girl's perspective.

On the personal level, however, you eventually learn that some men are most interested in a woman because she enhances their self-image. Her primary function is to make him feel like a successful alpha male. A woman's looks and social skills are key to this role since the whole idea is for other men to covet a man's possession because that's what he needs to feel like an Alpha. You have to master the art of flattering business associates in a way that makes associates feel sexually potent without thinking you're hitting on them because you are, first and foremost, the alpha male's property. Whether the man in question is your husband or boyfriend - or your grandfather who needs you for business - you're his property. Whether he is, in reality, Alpha or not is entirely debatable.

This role has certain compensations: Money and Protection. I don't know how it works for women who command large salaries in their careers because I've never operated in that environment, but date rape is a drag for anyone. Also, I've never been hung up on being rich because my experiences with the Man from San Antone showed that as comfortable as life can be with vast sums of money, wealth creates a different set of problems. A refrigerator filled with Tattinger does not make those problems easier to bear.

I'm grumpy today because one of those men on the periphery has been disagreeable. It sucks when some guy chastises you for not paying attention to him as if being married shouldn't automatically disqualify him from The Summer Boyfriend Reality Show. It all goes back to those tits and how they make some men him feel better about themselves.

He lives in an affluent, horsey suburb and drives a sedate BMW, but the money comes from his wife's family. Once he wanted me to pretend to be a former business associate and accompany him to some theatrical production where I would have been surrounded by his acquaintances. Like it wouldn't get back to his wife that he was seen in the company of a vibrant younger woman. How fucked up is that?

19 comments:

Gail said...

Hi Trish-

LBJ bounced you on his lap? Wow, who knew? :-)

And ya, I am , as they say, well-endowed, - "BIG TITS" and so guys rarely see my beautiful sea-blue eyes, my tits get in the way. heehee.

Love you
Gail
peace.....

PENolan said...

Yes, Gail, my education about business, politics and the patriarchy includes LBJ. We're an old, established Texas family. It goes with the territory - kind of like having a black side of the family. We've got that too. That's why my shrink says I don't have to watch Tennessee Williams because I lived Tennessee Williams.

jadedj said...

Excellent post PE.

As a male, I can't defend that male mind-set of which you speak. I wonder if we lived in a society that didn't wear blouses or shirts, if this would be true. Maybe not. It's the mystery that is the attraction. Not to mention the overly saturated sexual-innuendo advertising that we are all subjected to. And of course, reality many times busts the bubble.

I do want to say, in defense of myself and most of my male friends, that for us the mind is the attraction. In fact, my attraction to my wife was strictly because of her incredible wit and intelligence. I had no idea what she even looked like for the first three months of our communications. It didn't matter, here was someone who held their own, and even exceeded me, intellectually. It turned out that, yes she has large breasts, but that was never a factor in our getting together.

The men you refer to here are cretins in my view.

Oh, one other thing. I have two daughters who probaly will inherit their mother's physical properties, and I can tell you, if she, or I were to encounter what happened to you with the moving guys...they would be getting more than a reprimand, ala baseball bat.

jadedj said...

PE, to spew a platitude...ya never know what's around the next corner.

PENolan said...

JadedJ,
I know there are lots of great guys out there, but at my age most of them are happily married. Like I've said before, I'll keep wishing on a star.

And tits are great. Having a nice, G*d given set is, as the expression goes, Tits!

skyewriter said...

Wonderful post, PEN. As a fellow large chester, I can relate on so many levels here.

The ideal, of course, is that sexy, smart, funny women would have no problem finding the right guy. I used to have a lot of Mr. Right Nows. Lots. And really, I felt sorry for most of them who fell for the cleavage and not the person behind the boobs.

That married guy obviously has no more respect for women than he would for a race horse that gives him collateral. Yuck. I'm glad he didn't make it into the Summer Boyfriend Reality Show.

Those who choose fleeting, time-bound illusions over substance will never hold anything more.

The Peach Tart said...

I've spent business meetings sitting across from some fat married white guy staring exclusively at my breasts... no eye contact whatsoever.

Utah Savage said...

That was a comcast tech guy at my house yesterday and he never once looked at my face as we talked, he stared at my tits. Yes, even at 65 the tits always trump the mind. At least the mind of the man looking at the tits. I was not dressed in anything remotely sexy. I was not flaunting the dcups, I was just trying to get my comcast working well enough to justify the hefty cost. And no, he didn't fix an damned thing. And this man was barely out of his thirties. When comcast called back to ask me to take a little survey about their service I just hung up.

My looks have always been a handicap to having a really good relationship with a man. I think beauty is like a bad port-wine stain on the face. People stare and always react to the looks, not the person behind the looks. They either love you or hate you because of the way you look. Physical beauty can make you feel like a freak. At some point it becomes a bit like great wealth. Do they love you because your really rich or because you're a wonderful person?

Being a very pretty child seems to turn an awful lot of men into child molesters. I don't for a second think my childhood experiences are unique to me. And if there were that many child molesters in my life, imagine how many child molesters there are living amongst us. Yet if you tell men about your childhood, they will claim that they don't know of any child molesters in their acquaintance, so you must be lying about your childhood. Point out the statistics on the sexual abuse of children and they will say, "That's bullshit!"

Tits are nice, but they can be a disadvantage if you want to be taken seriously. Maybe I need to get over the need to be taken seriously.

jadedj said...

Utah, I can't believe no one would take you seriously.

PENolan said...

I can believe it. The need to be taken seriously, or to protect your body from others, is often behind being heavy.

There are just too many men out there who don't seem to know there are times when it's not appropriate or complimentary to view a woman sexually - like in Peach Tart's business meeting. Given the number of sexy, smart, funny women who discuss their enjoyment of sex frankly and openly, clearly we enjoy being sexy. Men like to be thought of as sexy too. It's just that there is a time and a place.

Further, one's formal education does not necessarily reflect one's knowledge on any topic. While the men are stomping around Capital Hill and Wall Street acting like they know something special because of education and career experience - they prove daily that they don't know shit from bricks. We see all too often that they are also crooks.

Few people know just how crooked these guys are as the women who have had their hands up their skirts or been grabbed as a child by some drunk fool saying "give me some sugar," while he pulls her against the hard on in his lap.
When you've run that gauntlet, then tits of all shapes and sizes should count as some sort of honorary degree. Although there may be a correlation between being pretty and being molested, perps often abuse anyone who happens to be handy. I haven't got a clue what motivated my grandfather or my uncle in that department.

Looks are nearly always behind the roving hands and sexual remarks of businessmen and politicians. Women who have grown up in this environment have as much insight into our political and economic systems as anybody no matter where they went to school.

CDP said...

This was an amazing post. And I'll also admit to being totally impressed that LBJ bounced you on his lap.

themom said...

Once upon a time, I had one guy tell me "you can't be smart - you have tits!" DUH?!?! And a penis makes you...what? there's not much I can do, as my tits get everywhere before me, they know the weather before my brain as I go out the door - and sometimes, they get me a free drink. What more could an aging mother and grandmother ask???

PENolan said...

Three cheers for free drinks.

JD said...

Wow. Tits, race, male chauvinism, Texas history, Texas politics, and the singularly unique Texas lifestyle--all in one post! Y'know I think you may have lived Tennessee Williams with just a dash of Aaron Spelling. But this is way better than living Flannery O'Connor.

JD said...

Oh, also, congratulations on coming out of the two-year shit storm. Right now it's nice to know such a thing is possible.

Anonymous said...

Yes indeed. Sadly if you have Tits and "G*d" forbid an ass too, well then you are double dumb.

Brains, common sense and wisdom, well if any female has gotten any of those talents, then "Burn her, she's a Witch!!!" (Borrowed from Monty Python) After all if a woman is wise her knowledge can only come from an evil source, ergo: tie her up and toss her in the pond...if she's a sorcerer she will save herself, if not, we would have saved her soul. Whatever! Medieval morons!

I try to use my 34FF to my advantage when necessary. When not, then I try, although not very successfully, to hide them. It is though, fun to screw with people's mind, both men AND women. You can actually see the confusion in their heads when I make an accurate statement, correct them or casually give a complex answer that no one else present thought of. For me, I can actually mark the moment I loose my T&A (Tits and Ass) to fellow team guys and gals, I become one more of them...but the illusion fades once they catch me again out of welding gear...

But hell, they got my hubby, nephew and I to stay on the USS Lexington in Corpus, TX, while they were using the external elevator actually moving planes around from one level to the other (my hubby helped moved them manually).

So, whatever! I say...tits, ass, muscles, bones, moles, nostrils...we're all human...aren't we? Some large, some small, some smart while others are un-evolved...poor sub-par people.

Now to all those child molesters out there, and those who think we may be toys, well they can all go to @#$%%^&^&%$@ and have their bodies explored without their permission by someone even more un-evolved...YUCK!

Love the posting, by the way!

Sorry for the rant... XXOO!!!

PENolan said...

FF, Welding Gear and Monty Python? I hope to be reading your blog one of these days.

JD, I'll take Aaron Spelling any day, but we never had the kind of money the Ewings did. More's the pity. Nobody ever wanted to drill on the land in Nofuckingwhere East Texas until last year. The black side may have gotten the physical land, but the white side retained the mineral rights. How's that for life in America?

Cali said...

I'm way, way late to the party here but...

You are absolutely right about putting on weight to keep men away. That's exactly what happened to me after years of being molested in the back row of my church by the minister's father. But that's to be expected when you are SENT to church rather than TAKEN to church.

This is also the biggest reason I'm anti-christian now. After all if some so-called "god" can't protect an innocent four year-old child in his own "house" that's a pretty powerless "god," now isn't it? Oh, and I never told what was happening because people didn't warn little kids back then like they do now.

I only wish I would have been wise enough to realize how much power and, yes, money comes with having society's version of a "good" body. I grew up to have a 40DDD bra size, but I also ended up the very unfortunate apple-shape. Men greatly prefer pear-shaped women.

PENolan said...

Astounding what perverted old men will do to very young children - there in the church in front of God himself. Does make you think that Patriarchal God of theirs endorses child abuse.

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