Male Friendships

The Times ran an article on the insubstantial nature of male friendships, hardly a new topic, but worth reminding ourselves from time to time.  Certainly not true for all males all the time.  Just the very next day my trainer had an amusing anecdote which told of how a fellow trainer and side kick came by under cover of twilight and scattered artificial butterflies around this guy's house because it has been his ambition all spring and now summer to attract butterflies to his new garden so he can photograph them.  The jokesters who are two tall muscled guy-guys were accosted by a neighbor who wanted to know what they were up to, and they had a hard time balancing the sprinkling of artificial butterflies with their hetero normative--to use a big phrase---definition. I am also in awe and admiration of the trainers at this club, every one of them, as masculine and muscled as could be possible, yet soft spoken, thoughtful, caring, exuding a genuine sensitivity that one or at least me does not associate with muscles--in fact, just the kind of guys who would be out sprinkling paper butterflies around a friend's house of a summer evening. This spring I went to a memorial service for an old friend and was amused to note that almost half the speakers described their relationship with the deceased completely in terms of having faced off against him at handball, squash, tennis, etc. over the years.  And that put me in mind of the play March of the Falsettos where two couples split up and the wife joins up with another woman and the man with another man.  And we see the new relationships playing out: the lesbians are sitting cosily and lovingly ensconced in their home whereas the two males show their love relationship out on the squash court running around after the ball. I guess aggression and testosterone are central to male bonding, even these two gay males in Falsettos.  I have written of the tenderness with which I was picked up off the ground when I fell on 57th street.  My rescuers were burly muscled construction workers.  A couple of days ago when landing in Charlotte the airline announced we would descend by stair since no ramp was available which made me erupt in dismay since I had balance problems and was using a cane.  Not to worry said the stew and leaned out of the plane door and whistled to two guys standing below; they were baggage handlers who instantly mounted the steps, told me to grasp their upper arms, and brought me off to terra firma gently and immediately.  I felt I was holding on to hewn logs, their muscles were so strong and large.  I must say I am beginning to like being disabled.