How (Not) To Conduct Yourself in Battle: Looney Tunes Style

Staff writer Frank Friedlander gives us the fight styles from Looney Tunes and how to avoid doing so in relationships.

When confrontation arises amongst friends and lovers, and it will at some point, there is no shortage of ways to handle it. While it is always important to keep your cool when things get heated, one thing to avoid is saying things that you will regret later on. However, there are some who are incapable of this. They will say hurtful things; often going below the belt, without thinking about the consequences until after the damage is done:

Daffy Duck

Daffy Duck always manages to blow his top in the heat of the moment. When faced with an unfavorable situation, he frantically flaps his wings spouting out inaudible obscenities. Rarely does it end up going his way. It tends to blow up in his face, literally. More often than not, he storms off grumbling and angrier than he started, with his antagonist rolling his eyes.

When people in the real world go this route in the midst of an argument, the end result tends to be similar, the obvious difference being that when it blows up in their face it’s usually in the figurative sense rather than the literal.

Others have more of a passive aggressive way of dealing with these situations. While they may seem calmer and cooler on the surface, and often avoid saying truly hurtful things, this doesn’t make the end result much better. In fact, since their real feelings never get out, the dilemma is often not solved, and it can fester for hours, days, weeks, or even longer.

Bugs Bunny

Bugs is quite the cool customer indeed. He never lets his rival get under his skin. The opposite is not true. When confronted, Bugs will gloss over the problem, usually in a mocking fashion. Unlike the case with Daffy, with Bugs it’s usually the other person (or animal) that ends up storming off.

However, this is rarely the end of the situation. It ends up festering and his antagonist will come back for more, and be treated to the same reaction from Bugs. The cycle is then repeated over and over.
Those who tend to do battle the Bugs Bunny way are often involved in long-term confrontations. In many cases, this is because the matter at hand is more important to the other person, and not Bugs. However, “Bugs” refuses to let the other have their way and would rather antagonize them further until they march off in a huff. Long after they’ve forgotten about the issue, the other individual has not, and it can result in tension whenever the two are together, until such a time that the two are willing to sit down and sort things out.

One more example, similar to Bugs is those who ignore the confrontation completely, thus letting their antagonist lose their cool to such a point that they are doing battle with themselves, as they sit back and become a spectator. Unlike Bugs, these people won’t do anything to further antagonize the other person, but they prefer to let them blow off their own steam.


Ah, yes, who can forget this speedy little desert bird. He may seem completely outmatched by the crafty genius, Wile E. Coyote who seems to have an endless credit line with Acme, but he never seems to be bothered by this. No sir, the Roadrunner prefers to sit back and let the coyote use his own momentum carry him off a cliff as he looks on and down. It is then the antagonist who makes an ass out of himself and the roadrunner simply walks off and goes about his or her business.

In some cases, the antagonist eventually realizes how one sided the issue is and apologizes. In others, as with Bugs it can result in a long term issue, which is never resolved due to the other person’s failure to acknowledge the situation at hand, or at least do nothing to show that they acknowledge it.
Do any of these styles of dealing with confrontation seem familiar to you? I’d be willing to bet that they all do. At some point in our lives, we’ve likely all dealt with confrontation like a Daffy Duck, a Bugs Bunny, and a Roadrunner. Chances are, we’ve all been on the other side of one as well. While some of these methods may seem to be more favorable than others, none are optimal, at least if the long term plan is to keep the relationship in tact.
It’s easy to say that the best way to go is to simply not get into fights or arguments with our friends and love ones, but this is simply not realistic. Confrontation is a part of our nature, and can be a healthy one at that. It can help us get a better understanding of one another, and further build our relationship. However, when it does happen, it is never in anybody’s best interest for the other to blow his top, storm off, or simply make a giant fool out of him/her self. The best way to deal with it is to sit down and discuss the matter and come down to a resolution that benefits both sides, rather than behaving like a pair of cartoon characters, this ruining relationships forever.

Santa Baby

This week staff writer Frank Friedlander gives us a holiday post those with  young kids can relate to. Merry Christmas and a safe and Happy Holiday!


The good news is that we’ve long since finished our holiday shopping. We won’t have to brave the madness that is last minute shopping at the mall. Everything is wrapped and ready to go.


Where am I going with this? I’m not quite certain. What I do know is that this will be the first Christmas morning in which Francie is somewhat aware of what’s going on. Her first Christmas, she was four months old and hadn’t a clue. The next year, when she awoke that morning and was given gifts, she was happy then, but again, hadn’t a clue why.


This year, she knows Christmas is coming. She knows presents are coming. She may not be quite sure of the exact timeline, but she’s ready. She knows that Santa is bringing her things. She knows who Santa is. She likes Santa, from a distance, anyway. Once she gets close up, that’s a different story; she clings to mommy or daddy like a monkey to a tree. Then when we walk away, she wants to watch him again, from a distance. Kind of like a bird watcher would.


Kind of ironic how parents spend eleven months out of the year preaching stranger danger to our children, but that final month, all bets are off. Hey sweetie, see that guy with the beard, funny outfit, and a mug of eggnog? We want you to sit on his lap and tell him everything you want. “Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas,” he bellows.


And then we freak out a few months later when she walks up to some random vagrant with similar qualities just because the eggnog has been replaced with cheap bourbon and “Ho! Ho! Ho, Merry Christmas!” has been replaced with “The end is near! Judgment day is upon us! Repent for your sins!”

Christmas Mourning

This week, staff writer Frank Friedlander gives his thoughts on the tragedy at Newtown, CT.


When I went downstairs Saturday morning and looked at our Christmas tree, still lit up from the night before, all I could think about was those families in Newtown, Connecticut whose lives had been drastically altered by a monster the day before. Each of the twenty murdered children more than likely had their gifts hidden away somewhere ready to be wrapped in shiny, colorful paper. Surely, they were equally as excited to rip them open on Christmas morning, as their parents were to see their eyes light up as they did so. Tragically, they will not get to do that. Why? Because some monster took it upon himself to rob them of that. Rob them of their future.  Forever.


I can’t even imagine how the families got the news, the initial shock. No doubt a mid-morning phone call. Something minor. It could have been the school calling to tell them their child was sick. Maybe they thought that it was their husband or wife calling to remind them to pick up milk after work. There’s no way that in a million years they would have remotely expected that which was really awaiting them on the other end of the line. Nor should they have. What’s worse is that the school served as a makeshift morgue that evening the bodies lying prone where they had fallen. The families were not allowed to see their loved ones until the authorities were given the opportunity to carry out their protocol. I can’t even understand those responsible for keeping them out were able to do so.


No doubt it will soon be revealed that this coward was a tragic victim of circumstance, but I don’t buy it.  Call it what you will, but somebody who would do this is nothing short of pure evil. I could care less who touched him, where, or how often. Maybe he was beaten. Maybe he should have sought therapy. Maybe he should have just shot mom and dad, turned the gun on himself and called it a day. It would have been a tragic end, no doubt, but better be it for his family alone than an entire community, an entire country. A question often asked is what separates us from the animals, well the answer is simple; we have the ability to feel for not just ourselves, but for others. It’s a weakness really. Most of us would rather have watched that news story, thought “wow, that’s awful,” and went on with our day, but the fact of the matter is that even the most self-absorbed of us simply cannot.


Fuck, in the cases of most mass murderers, at least in their twisted brains, there was a reason. Whether they thought they were eliminating the week for the good of their country, making a religious statement, or simply getting revenge on the bullies that had tormented them, at least their sick little minds had motivation. However, there’s nothing that a school full of 8-10 year old children could have possibly done to this twenty year old, no matter how sad and pathetic the voices in his head told him he was. I don’t necessarily believe in heaven or hell, but at times like this, I certainly hope that there is a Hell. I hope that it’s everything that Dante Alighieri made it out to be in his fourteenth century epic-poem and then some. The suffering that he’ll spend eternity suffering will be immeasurable. I can’t imagine even the devil himself being able to tolerate a sickening little coward like him.

And who was he? Who was the gunman? It doesn’t matter. Granted, his name has been released but it does not deserve repeating. He does not deserve recognition. He does not deserve to be remembered. There’s little benefit to awarding him the attention in death, which he likely sought in life. What is important is that his brain is excised and given to our nation’s top scientists for research. No name need be attached. The rest of the body should be disposed of using the least ceremonial method possible. Use it to feed livestock, or simply stuff it in a landfill with the rest of the refuse. That should be where his existence and very essence ends. Anybody who knew him should erase him from memory. Anyone who has pictures of him should burn or discard them so to never have t lay eyes on him again. He never should have existed, but it’s far too late for that. The next best ting is for every should that he ever came in contact with him let him quietly fade from memory. There are 26 lives taken on the dark morning of December 13, 2012 in Newtown, Connecticut. Each of them deserves to be remembered. One however does not.

What is important is that today, you spend some extra time with your children. Thank them for being there. Maybe even take that extra $50-100 that you’d planned to use toward the Visa bill you’d racked up over the past month and buy them a bit something extra for Chanukah or Christmas.  They may not understand why, and they don’t need to, not yet, anyway. More importantly, whatever it is that you thought that you had to do this afternoon can wait. Nothing is granted. Nothing is guaranteed.

One Cashew, One on the Way, and a Bunch of Mixed Nuts.

This week staff writer Frank Friedlander discusses the subject of religion in a relationship and with family.


When two people find true love, or something close to it, religion is not something that should get in the way. Sometimes, it will create the obstacle of which type of wedding to hold, but beyond that, it should be smooth sailing. However, when the children come along, things can get somewhat complicated. Even if the parents are not particularly concerned, the family tends to but in. None of their business as it may be, the situation can be the cause for heated discussions, which everyone would just as soon resolve as soon as possible.

Our daughter, and the one who will be joining us this coming April will be a “Cashew.” She will have a Catholic mother, and a Jewish father. By Jewish tradition, if either parents or the mother only are Jewish, then the child is Jewish; however, if the father only is Jewish, they’re considered half Jewish. Problem solved, right? It is, assuming that the family of the mother is OK with that.

Luckily for me, it’s not that big a deal. On my side, the Jewish side, my grandmother’s the only one who seems concerned in any way. These days, she’s pretty much given up, and as long as they’re aware of their Jewish heritage, she’s satisfied. After all, as I tell her, they’ll likely go to Synagogue about as much as I did growing up, pretty much never.

You see, I come from one of those families who are Jewish because they like the title. Nobody is particularly religious. My grandmother’s generation may be to a degree, but not beyond that. When somebody dies, we’ll don a yarmulke and go to Temple. My father, for example has had a history of touring various churches and temples, everything from Unitarian to Hindu. He’s in it more for the learning experience than anything. As a child, we even had a Christmas tree; my mother would try to dress it in all blue and white, and refer to it as a “Chanukah Bush.” However, as years went on, Santas and Reindeer ultimately invaded it, and it became an it is what it is type of tree.

My wife, on the other hand faithfully went to church every Sunday as a child. We currently do not, but when the children are old enough, she is adamant about carrying on that tradition. I am personally opposed to it. To be honest, it has nothing to do with religion. It’s just boring. It’s not like anyone’s listening anyway, just wasting a Sunday because somewhere down the line, people were convinced that they had to do it. I’ll assume that those who originated that decision were the proprietors of the churches. Kind of like if the owners of Chili’s tried to guilt people into going to Chili’s once a week because the Divine Powers demanded it.  I’d hope that eventually, people would see through it.

Beyond that, there are ways to keep everyone happy. Hopefully, it isn’t one that requires an hour or more of worship twice a week instead of the mandated once, but if that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes. If it is something that the couples themselves feel strongly about, then they should really work it out. However, if they are doing it to appease outside parties, eventually, one or both partners might just need to lay it out that only we and we alone can make that decision.

The last thing to think about is this: If the primary goal of faithfully following one’s religion is to enter the kingdom of heaven, I’d assume that every family would like to ultimately unite there. With this in mind, judging by the rules of each religion, the couple might want to consider joining a single religion, just to be on the safe side. However, if you’re like me, there’s a different point of view. Assuming that you you’re your life by the basic guidelines of essentially any religion, you are likely to end up in heaven, assuming there is such a place.  This being said, I suppose that where you spend that one boring hour per week is not as important as some have spent their lives thinking.

Candy for Dinner

This week, staff writer Frank Friedlander gives us a look into the relationship between parents and their children. Parents, have you found yourself in a similar situation? What have you done to get some peace?


How is it that those without children have all the answers? It seems as though everyone I know without kids is an expert on raising children, and those of us who have them know nothing. I forget the name of the movie, but it’s about how babies have all the answers, but can only communicate amongst themselves. As soon as they cross over into toddlerhood, it’s all unlearned do they can’t tell the grown ups, or something like that. Anyway, that’s similar to parenthood. Before you have kids, you know everything there is to know about parenting. However, the moment the kids come, it’s all unlearned and you become helpless, praying for your childless friends and family to show you the way.


“Potty training is easy,” they’ll assure us. “Just take away the diaper and it will come naturally,” they’ll confidently add. Genius! Why couldn’t anyone have thought of such a tactic before? I just hope that 19-year-old “Aunt I- Never-Plan-on-Having-Kids, is as willing to come by to clean up the mess when her master plan epic fails as she is to bestow her infinite wisdom upon us.


Believe me, I’ve been on the other side of the coin too. I think back to my days waiting tables. Kids always seem to be drawn to those sugar caddies. They love to sift through those colorful little paper packets and throw them about. And Cheerios; they always seem to have Cheerios. Of course, the Cheerios always end up scattered about on the floor. Once in the while, a few will end up in their mouths, but I assure you that it’s strictly coincidental. Of course the server never says anything about it. What’s going through their mind, and what they gripe about to their fellow wait staff when they walk off is different. “Why can’t these people learn to control their kids,” I remember thinking back then. “One thing’s for sure,” I’d add, “my kids will know how to behave. They sure won’t make some waiters life more difficult because they’re too lazy to keep Junior occupied.”


Guess what, eight years later, and if all it takes to keep little Francie busy while we scarf down our meal is to play with the sugar caddy, then all hail the sugar caddy; and the waiter should be happy about it. The more occupied the kids are, the happier the parents are, and the bigger your tip is.


One thing’s for sure; I have all the respect in the world for single parents, or those whose spouses work odd hours. When you’re on your own, it’s even harder. Even at home. “What do you want for dinner Francie?” I’ll ask. “Candy,” she’ll reply. “No silly, you can’t have candy for dinner. How about some noodles?” “Candy,” she’ll reply. “Maybe you can have a piece of candy after you eat,” I plead. “CANDY!!!” she says, gyrating in such a fashion in which it would appear as though she’s going to blast into orbit.


“Yes ma’am, would you prefer Twizzlers or Gummy Bears?”  No, I don’t give my daughter candy for dinner, no matter how red she turns. But the fact of the matter is: if it gets to the point where you’re trying to rationalize with a two year old, you’ve already lost the battle. If only 25 year old childless me was there to help. He had all the answers.


…And Change His Ways Tomorrow

This week’s post by staff writer Frank Friedlander discusses the topic of sometimes focusing too much on “mistakes” in our significant others.


Whenever I make the mistake of feigning interest in the dating exploits of my friends, I end up with an earful of nonsensical and irrelevant anecdotes as to why the encounter went south. “When he showed up, he was wearing this shirt or those jeans.” They usually proceed with assorted drivel such as “We went to this restaurant and he did this and did that and a bunch of other things that you don’t care about but I’m going to carry on about all the same.”


I simply can’t stress enough that when looking for a life mate, or at least a long-term relationship, such frivolities are of minor relevance and can easily be remedied if they must be at all.


When on a date, if you’re looking hard enough for flaws, you’re going to find some. Everyone has his or her share. This being said, a good deal of them can be fixed somewhere down the line, or else you learn to get used to them. Evaluating overall compatibility should be the first priority regardless of the venue. Even if he takes you to Chili’s or Denny’s, give it a chance. It doesn’t mean that you’re doomed to a lifetime of casual dining at low-level chain restaurants. Even if you are, if there’s a genuine connection, perhaps it’s worth it. Besides, who doesn’t like buffalo wings and potato skins. Vegetarians, but they’re usually weird anyway.


The suitor that takes you to some fancy French restaurant is just as likely to turn out to be a cad as he or she who takes you to Applebee’s. Perhaps more so, as they be compensating for who knows what.


This principal is best explained in the song “Marry the Man Today,” from the classic Broadway musical “Guys and Dolls.” In a nutshell, when you have a potential mate on the hook, one with the overall traits you desire, accept him or her for why they are, warts and all. The flaws can then be fixed at a later date. As Adelaide explains to Sgt. Sarah Brown, “you can’t make alterations on a dress you haven’t bought.”


As is often the case, those flaws often end up being worth the overall package. Other times, you may learnt that they are not flaws at all, and are “quirks,” just part of what makes them who they are. You may decide that they’re part of why you fell for them to begin with.


All I’m saying is that you should always give them a second chance, so long as there’s mutual interest and the overall package outweighs the flaws. Unless of course you learn that he or she is an axe murderer, sex offender, or some other type of felon. In such cases, you’re probably better off nipping it in the bud.



Love and Fandom

This week, staff writer Frank Friedlander uses baseball for an example to discuss devotion.


As a lifelong Cubs fan, many people, my wife included often wonder why I continue to loyally follow them despite the fact that it leads to disappointment year after year. Why not take some time off and wait until they’re ready to get their act together? Better yet, chose another team. It’s not like I’d have far to go; there’s another big league team just ten miles south of the crumbling shrine known as Wrigley Field.  They even seem to win every now and then, and have taken home a championship in the lifetime of most of their fans.


My response is that true fandom isn’t something that can be turned on and off. Even if I did trade in my Cubbie Blue for black and white, I’d be just another fair weather fan, and come crawling back the moment the Cubs seemed ready to win again.


To a true, diehard fan, the game is more than just that. It’s more than a hobby, more than a pastime. It’s a way of life. Even beyond the six months, (or seven to the better teams,) in which the Cubs play, we obsess over the team’s next set of moves. Who will we trade? Who will we sign? No, I don’t work for the team, but that’s another thing. The “we” debate. There’s always someone who wants to know why fans refer to their team as “we.” Well, to us, the team is a part of who we are, a part of our identity. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health. In contention and in an era in which the playoffs look to be at least a good three, or even five years away.


I’ll admit, there are often times when I wish that I could simply walk away, if even for just a little while. Just long enough for them to build a team worthy of the rabid fan base. After all, why devote such a big portion of your life to something that lets you down over and over, year after year? At what point do we simply move on. Like a lot of other Cubs fans, if I could, I would have a long time ago.


Call me weak, but I simply don’t possess the power to walk away from something that’s been so important to me for so many years, and perhaps I never will.


This past year, they have not even tried to sugarcoat the truth; they preach patience. Very ballsy to preach patience when you haven’t produced a championship for well over a century.


This being said, we’ll wait. We may not flock to the hallowed grounds of Wrigley Field en-mass as we once did, but we’re still here. Watching from afar, just waiting for a sign that “next year” is on the horizon. We don’t give up hope, and we certainly don’t whore out our fandom to some other team that seems to be in a more enviable position, at least for the time being.


To some, this may sound rather crazy. However, I’m willing to be that it also sounds very familiar.


Parents (today) Just Don’t Understand

This week, staff writer Frank Friedlander discusses parenting of today compared to the past.



So last night, we went out for my birthday dinner with my grandmother. Thank you, I accept cash, checks, and various gift cards. Anyway, it was myself, granny, my wife, and of course, Francie. As anyone with young children, especially toddlers will tell you, going out to eat with them is always an adventure. Sometimes, you have to eat in shifts. You’re essentially at the mercy of the speed of the service.


At the Flat Top grill in Evanston, the service tends to be relatively quick, but quick to adults and quick to a toddler are two very different things. It was not long before Francie became antsy, attempting to put all 30 of her pounds into powering out of the high chair. “Out, out, out,” she demanded. I’m sure that most of us did the same when we were out to dinner with our parents, leaving them with the options of letting us scream out heads off or abandoning the table and walking us around the restaurant or outside. However, in our day and age we have a better option: technology. I simply whipped out my I-Phone, clicked on You Tube, and pulled up a Wizard of Oz video, averting the potential disaster.


My 90-something grandmother’s only response was “that looks expensive. What is it, a tape recorder or a watch?” As odd of a response as that may be, the I-Phone, and devices like it are not given the appreciation they deserve. Granted, our parents had options such as books, toys, and games, but they did not offer nearly the possibilities and entertainment potential as what we have today. Back in the early 80s, my folks couldn’t exactly whip out a television and VHS and pop in a video. We have virtually every form of media entertainment at our fingertips, and perhaps we should appreciate them more than we do.

An I-Phone, I-Pad, and similar devices may be a bit pricey, but they more than pay for themselves in situations such as the one previously described. I’m sure that there are a lot of people reading this and thinking, “why not just find another way to calm the child down?” or even the brilliant “just let her/him cry it out” option. I’ll assume that those people don’t have children.


While I am not one to advocate the plant ‘em in front of the TV approach to parenting, I certainly appreciate the assistance of technology. When you need to take care of a minor task, or simply enjoy a meal out, there’s no shame in turning to any available way to keep them occupied. We’re just fortunate enough to have more efficient tools at our disposal than our parents had. Prior generations can get on the soapbox and preach about how much better their gadgets and gismos were. However, I can guarantee that if you were to give any kid on the planet something that talks, walks, or pees, they’d take it over an Etch-A-Sketch or sack of Legos every time.


With all of this in mind, next time you’re at a restaurant, doctor’s office, or anytime there’s a wait involved, and your toddler is about to erupt, chances are, you’ll pull out a small apparatus capable of endless methods of keeping them occupied. Perhaps, you’ll be a bit more thankful for this invention, and even more so for your parents and how much more difficult it was for them to keep us calm, even if they were able to lug around a VHS and big ‘ole boxy 1980s style television?


Now You Can Touch

Staff writer Frank Friedlander discusses “married sex”.


Sex. Did that get your attention? It always does, and it should. In the case of marriage, sex is something that oft becomes forgotten, if not avoided. In other cases yet, it becomes a chore or a routine, something scheduled. I laughed my ass off watching Married With Children back in the day, but no marriage should mimic that of the Bundys.


“So are we going to have sex tonight” is a question that should never be asked. What’s worse is “are we going to have sex this week,” which can become are we going to have sex this month,” and so on, and so forth. If any variations of this question are asked in your household, you’re doing it wrong. The question is really no less ridiculous than asking, “So should we catch a cold?”.


Sex is something that should just happen, and certainly never be penciled into a calendar. It would be ideal to simply take your spouse, rip his or her shirt off, throw them to the bed, couch, or even table at a moments notice, and go to work. Caveman style, minus that whole clubbing them over the head and dragging them off by their hair part.


Sadly, this just isn’t possible in most homes. That type of thing tends to traumatized your children, if you have any. This isn’t to say that spontaneity should be cast away. Once the kids are in bed, or at gramma’s, anything goes; at least it should.


To go beyond that, Sex should be kept fun and interesting. Strive for something new. A new position is always a treat. Playing dress up is also something that adds a hell of a spark to even the dullest bedroom. If you can work props into the equation, even better.


Having sex on a regular basis is the ultimate tension breaker. There are problems that even a wild, sweaty, passionate night of anything goes lovemaking can’t fix. However, if you’re able to have enough wild, sweaty, passionate nights of lovemaking before a marriage reaches that point, you stand a better chance of not reaching said point to begin with.


I understand that there are many marriages in which one or both partners feel as though they are bored with one another from a sexual standpoint, which leads to it becoming dull or routine. Perhaps they should mix things up. It’s not what you do; it’s how you do it. Who knows white kind of deprave type of shit you can get your spouse to do that you never would have imagined.


In an ideal relationship, anything should go. You should be able to do whatever you want to one another, within reason. Good God, there are more things that two people can to one another sexually than imaginable.


The ultimate goal should be that no matter how many years a couple has been married, they shouldn’t be able look at one another without the urge to rip one another’s clothing off and go to town. So tonight, to hell with whatever you have planned. Guys:If the first thing that comes to mind tonight when you think of the word “fantasy” is football, you need help. Gals: you can DVR The Real Housewives of who Gives a Shit and watch it, how about never. When the kids are asleep, get primal, sans the whole clubbing them over the head, and dragging them off by their hair. Unless he or she is into that type of thing, and if so, nice work if you can get it.




Window Shopping

Staff writer Frank Friedlander writes about the “look, don’t touch” policy in relationships. What do you think?


So it seems that over the years, my wife has caught my eyes wandering more and more. The good news is she’s taken it more and more lightly each time. Why is this? The simple answer is that boys will be boys, and she’s given up trying to stop such behavior. They say we should chose out battles, and this is one no longer worth fighting. On the other hand, a great deal of that reasoning is related to trust.


To elaborate, in a new relationship, you certainly don’t want to be caught window-shopping. Not too hard anyway. Not only can it be viewed as insulting to your present company when you stare just a bit too hard, but in the early stages of a relationship, trust, or for that matter lack there of is far from established. When you’ve recently started dating somebody, and you’re already checking out others, there’s not much indication that you will walk over and start flirting as soon as your date’s back is turned.


However, as time goes on, a certain level of trust will be established. If not, the relationship simply is not healthy enough to be sustained. This is not to say that after a certain length of time it’s permissible to gawk every time an attractive girl walks by; however, once said trust has been established, it becomes harmless, and somewhat laughable. Just don’t touch the merchandise.


The ladies reading this can sneer and scowl all they want, but I know they do the same. They’re just better at it, or at least better at avoiding getting caught. Then again, men aren’t as likely to make a fuss over such behavior. Additionally, man candy isn’t as abundant, at least of the unwrapped variety. When summer rolls around, we have to contend with sundresses, short shorts, and mini skirts virtually everywhere. Maybe at the beach or the gym, topless men in shorts are not uncommon, but in a general setting, we’re covered up. Those that are not are more laugh-worthy than anything, often accompanied by excessive body hair, including an outdated mustache and creepy medallion.


We have to deal with it every time the temperature hits the 70s. Aversion of the gaze is easier said then done when bombarded with eye candy. They say that the human eye will automatically focus on the most aesthetically pleasing image in sight. With this in mind, turning my head when a head turner passes by is as natural of a reaction as a sneeze. As long as it’s no more than a look, there’s no harm done. I’m not going to lie, I’ve done more than my share of window shopping but never considered making a purchase of any kind.


In Muslim culture, women are forced to keep completely covered, with virtually no visible skin. This is for religious reasons, and said to be sanctioned by men. My theory is that in reality, it was in fact Muslim women that originated this custom. They live in very temperate regions, and without those regulations, what would be to stop young Muslim women from wearing sundresses all year long? In their male dominated culture, Muslim wives rarely leave the house without their husbands. So what would be to stop them from gawking to their hearts content? Even if their wives were present, in their culture, they would not have the right to say anything. Their only defense would be to somehow force these young women to cover up. By putting two and two together, this theory sounds anything but far fetched.