There comes some extent in our psychological improvement when the male will come to know what it means when folks say, “boys can be boys.” I’m referring to the pure experiences that boys bear at a sure stage of their improvement—the primary second they notice they’re male, affected by what they find appealing and attractive, which regularly differs considerably from females. That is an age of discovery, distilled to a pinpoint—a second of enlightenment when a boy comprehends his pure, simple future. Sadly, we reside in an age the place even mentioning this sequence in human improvement can set off those that defend or promote mental illness, resulting in accusations of fascism and the potential cancellation of 1’s digital existence. However I digress; I’ll most likely revisit this later.
For all of us “regular” guys, the expertise could differ, however the realization stays the identical. For me, it was an encounter with a pack of bikers that stands out vividly. I used to be with my dad, driving down a fundamental avenue on Lengthy Island—most likely Jericho Turnpike or Dawn Freeway. It needed to be a Saturday as a result of I used to be with my dad, who often labored all week, and he was driving Mother’s ragtop Jeep CJ. If it had been Sunday, we’d have been at Nana’s for dinner (no Italian can skip that). I used to be six years previous, making it the summer time of 1967.
We got here to a halt at a pink mild within the heart lane of a giant intersection. As site visitors piled up behind us, a pack of bikes (which I’d later be taught had been Harleys) crammed the lanes on both facet and behind us. It was scorching that day, so Dad had taken the canvas doorways off the Jeep. These early CJ’s had a seize bar spanning the passenger facet of the dashboard; I had grabbed it and stood up (no automobile seats in these days). I used to be standing proper subsequent to a man on a chopper, with nothing between us however air—a extremely loud bike amongst many others. He had lengthy hair, a beard, tattoos on his veiny arms, and a cigarette dangling from his mouth. In keeping with my dad, I used to be transfixed; my eyeballs had been wider than he had ever seen— and he was a physician.
I keep in mind that each a kind of guys appeared like the person subsequent to me, with lengthy hair and beards. Because it was scorching, most of them had been simply sporting their cuts, revealing tattoos I had by no means seen earlier than, together with muscle groups, veins, and scars. Their bikes had been all totally different, however every of them was loud as hell. When the sunshine turned inexperienced, the roar that erupted nonetheless rings in my ears to at the present time. It was a sound that solely testosterone might recognize.
“These had been Hell’s Angels,” my dad stated as soon as they’d pulled far sufficient forward for regular dialog to renew. My dad stated “hell”—the primary time I ever heard him curse. Then he added one other first: “don’t inform your mom.” It was the icing on the cake.
Whereas I understood that the fellows driving these bikes had been most likely by some means on the darkish facet, which was absolutely interesting, it was their bikes that burned into my soul—an enormous, loud American V-Twin with little to muffle the exhaust. The horrifying racket they made fascinated me. The concept an individual—even perhaps I sometime—might management such brute chaos? These guys had been as cool as they had been bad-ass, and the bike accomplished the image like a horse completes a cowboy. It epitomized “man stuff.”
This realization is the crux of my level. Massive, mean-looking, and difficult, they harnessed their bikes and performed their thunder. That have catalyzed my first impartial characterization of maleness as a six-year-old boy. This realization formed not solely how I modeled myself but additionally what drove me to befriend different guys. For those who appeared on the males near me at any level in my life, you’d see robust, manly-looking males, coated in muscle groups, tattoos, and beards—usually well-armed, very succesful, stand-up dudes, a number of of whom have been to jail, journey bikes, and endure hardships, together with a number of divorces.
For each man, the expertise is totally different. But, on a guttural, human, instinctual stage, there’s an simple attraction {that a} younger boy feels towards parts that may make him large, sturdy, quick, robust, courageous—a protector and supplier—basically, “man stuff.” Any woman my age taking my place within the passenger seat of that Jeep would have had each arms over her ears, crying and screaming for my dad to make it cease. This attraction is simple, and there’s just one cause for it.
Now, this has nothing to do with position modeling. I’m definitely not implying that the Hell’s Angels had been my position fashions as an alternative of my father. My dad was an educational—no tattoos, no bulging muscle groups, not into sports activities, and he didn’t develop a beard till he retired. He by no means rode a motorbike, however he was robust, succesful, sensible, profitable, husband, an distinctive father, and a loyal buddy. He’s, to me, the undisputed world champion of position fashions. I’ve expertise and talents which have allowed me to guide a life I discover thrilling, all due to what my dad taught me. No matter flipped his boy swap is one thing we by no means mentioned, however suffice it to say he had a darkish facet; I’d hear “don’t inform your mom” after quite a few mischievous acts of boys being boys.
To 1 diploma or one other, boys—on their journey to turning into males—are naturally drawn to issues which might be typically perceived as unhealthy, unsavory, nefarious, or damaging, however that may also be constructive, artistic, heroic, or adventurous. We’re not content material to take a seat round; it’s merely the boy in us.
Now, what occurs when this attraction is absent?