The Mansplaining Conundrum

Hi. My name's Stuart and I'm a "Mansplainer."

Everybody: "Hi, Stuart!"

First time I heard the term "Mansplaining," I immediately thought it meant shaving your genital hair. Thankfully, I learned more about the term (thanks to a very helpful man; I kid, don't hate!).

I don't really consider myself a mansplainer, but my wife has accused me of that. Last weekend, a neighborhood woman was searching for her lost dog. Earlier, I had unsuccessfully tried to lure it into my backyard with a sausage. So, when I saw the woman go buy a third time (this time with that little brat, Bailey, in her arms), I tossed the door open and told her my daughter's dog likewise keeps digging out. Furthermore, I went on to tell her how we intended to fix the issue with chicken-wire (my wife's idea, natch).

When I closed the door, my wife said, "Way to mansplain, dear."

Okay, I know we live in a new enlightened era, the MeToo sitch should never have been necessary, I consider myself a feminist, my wife wears the tool-belt in the family, yadda, yadda, yadda. But if I have some beneficial information to share, I'm going to. It's called being a decent person regardless of who you deliver the information to. It's just the way I was brought up, after all. (On the other hand, my parents brought me up in a house of racism, so there is that).

I don't care who explains things to me as long as I find it beneficial. So, bring it on ladies and gents, explain, explain like the wind.

Now there is the argument that this sort of behavior is inherent in males; we feel compelled to "help" and "explain" things, particularly to women. Movies and culture and upbringing have bred that into us. The term "damsel in distress" may've been railroaded after the '30's, but it's still heavily branded onto every man's brain.

But, where is the line drawn? If one of those retired handymen at the hardware store wants to explain the difference in tools to a woman is he doing his job or (gasp) mansplaining?

Frankly, I get thrilled over the rare occasion I can explain something to my wife with authority. Certain sense of virility about it. Having said that, our marriage is a different one. I'm the expert on the truly important stuff such as movies and music. My wife draws on her infinite wealth of knowledge to "femalexplain" things to me about hardware and tools and, you know, all the useful junk in life.

Over the last year, we've been "rejuvenating" my daughter's new house. Basically I'm just "tool candy."  Wait, that's not obscene as it sounds. I mean, my bad-ass wife operates crazy, dangerous saws while I try to steady things.
She explains it along the way...

"Bead board goes along the walls after we put down the base-board, then quarter-round seals the deal, then we caulk, and then we..."

On and on it goes, a whole new education. Is she guilty of "Femalexplaining?" Is there such a thing?

Furthermore, here's a real philosophical stumper for you, right up there with that poor incontinent bear in the woods: Is explaining "Mansplaining," the ultimate in Mansplaining?

It makes my man-head hurt.

Look, take pity on us, the downtrodden, middle-aged, privileged, white males. Why, we've never had it so tough, being an unprotected group of people in today's modern...um... Wait, it's beginning to sound like a Trump rally up in here.

Never mind.

Speaking of "downtrodden, middle-aged, privileged, white males," did you hear the story about what happens when such a man wakes up to find himself now a Middle Easterner? No? It's just one of the tales in my short horror collection, Twisted Tales from Tornado Alley, a book written in anger after the last presidential election. Let's make America great again! Hell, yeah! Start by buying my book! Damn straight! Yeah!