Saturday morning, 8:30 A.M. Your Weather Channel Widget reads 34 degrees, but, tempted by a fine fog hovering over a ripple-free lake, you squeeze into your wet suit for the first time this season and slide your kayak into the water. You marvel at the tranquility, snap a few photos and begin a prayer of thanksgiving . . .
And then the duck hunters spot you.
I’ll be honest. I was tempted to come here and write a post entitled “Duck Hunting: Sport of Pigs”. I’ll be even more honest: I started the Men-As-Pigs tirade with my husband upon returning from my shortened paddle around the lake. But as I furiously scrubbed the bathroom sink I realized why this kind of behavior from men bothers me so much: I haven’t worked up callouses.
You see, first there was my daddy and both grandfathers and my uncles and then my brothers and cousins. Later I met Troy and Adam and Ben and Mike and Jay and Aaron and Paul and Pete and Dan and my father-in-law and my brothers-in-law and a host of others I’ve unintentionally forgotten. And, of course, there’s my husband. The guy who leads quietly by example. The guy who has no concept of “woman’s work”. The guy who walked down the street this morning in order to have a man-to-man with the harassing hunters as they pulled their boat out of the water.
I run into a few jerks now and then, but from the moment of my birth I’ve been surrounded by males who treat me almost as if they see the Image of God in me. And for that I should be profoundly grateful. I hope the young men I met today eventually learn what the men in my life already know.
So instead of dumping on the guys this morning, I want to say something to all the young women I know: There are plenty of terrific men in the world. Find one and stick with him and reciprocate the respect.
Enjoy the photos. It really was a spectacular morning.