MEN: WHY I LOVE THEM

SAVE ME FROM MYSELF: CHRISTINA AGUILERA: CLICK LINK BELOW TO HEAR IT:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dWkXFl7G6fo

THE FIRST MAN IN MY LIFE

My Dad was a song writer. His Dad published about twelve books, and the gene was passed down to me, my siblings, and some of their children. Dad loved music, and loved to argue politics. I love the first, and hate the later; however, both love and hate are probably attributed to dear old Dad. Dad was of French decent, and as the French are known for, he was a man of passion, and loved his wine.

Dad was more open about his feelings than most American men tend to be, but he taught me that they have them, and I am not easy to fool. Dad wrote songs about his wife, his kids, and just about everything important in his life. He could be a philosopher, or a red neck, a strange combination of both. Dad was passionate about everything. He loved his hobbies, but they changed constantly; he never stayed with the same thing all that long. He was passionate about his politics, about as far right as you can get, much to my own frustration. More than once we'd debate, and he would furiously order me out of the house, only to invite me back in, grinning, after he cooled off.

Dad was the son of a Holiness minister, always the rebel, James Dean in attitude, he refused to accept anything simply because he was told it was true. He didn't attend church very often, but was a lover of nature, and insisted he worshipped better from out on a fishing boat while looking at trees, the lake, and in the center of plant and animal wildlife. He questioned everything, but often stated he knew there was something out there, because the art of nature could be no accident. Dad loved God, he just wasn't sure about what his name might have been.

Dad couldn't read music, but he could pick up any musical instrument and learn how to play it within a few days. Once he figured it out, he could play any tune you could sing to him. He was a brilliant redneck, and he never even realized he was a hippie at heart. He was an interesting combination of both. Dad's character finds his way into all of my writing. He was the first man in my life; the source of much passion and frustration; he planted the seed of love for men in me, and regardless of many disappointments and fractured heart breaks, it hasn't gone anywhere.

Dad served his country during world war II, and as much as he hated the Navy, he wore his battle scars in tattoos all over his arms, way ahead of his time on that one. Truth is, Dad never happened to be where any of the fighting was; however, he loved to talk about his travels, and the times the weather was stormy out at sea. He was ashamed of his tattoos and advised all the young guys not to get them. How I wish he could see the popularity of tattoos today, and feel proud to appear shirtless on the beach. Time changes everything, doesn't it?

Dad loved pleasure, and didn't exercise enough, nor control his appetite for rich food, and too much of it. He became obese and never could lose the access pounds. He eventually became unable to walk far, do much for himself, or maintain his health. He had a stroke and became dependent on my mother for the last ten years of their lives, his death following Mama's by about 9 months. Dad worshipped Mama, and had no serious will to live after her death. His death grieved me so seriously, I felt I had failed to appreciate his worth through all the years he had been taken for granted, a constant in my life, always there as I looked for other men who loved me not nearly as much. I still love and miss him so, and no one will ever take his place. Still, the fire burns inside me for all that is male. I simply love men.

REDNECK MEN

Redneck men have gotten a bad rap, and often for good reason, but underneath all the toughness, they are all a bunch of teddy bears. Working class men will protect you from a Pit Bull, if necessary, and they are actually extremely sensitive guys, once you get through the bad politics. They are also an extremely sexy group, as feminist writer Rosemary Daniel's notes, as she married one. Yes, the author of Sleeping with Soldiers, not only fell in love with the macho man she was looking for, but married him, and the marriage has lasted twenty years or longer. They are a hardworking, loyal group, who are seriously devoted to their families. I'm probably the only woman in America, who wished Sandra Bullock had stayed with Jessie James. Men don't necessarily equate sexual behavior with love, thus they can be faithful emotionally, while not doing all that well physically. That's not to say they don't equate sexual behavior with love when they are in love. Sexual behavior is how men express their love, and they get confused when we don't understand it.

The new generation is confusing, because now we have liberal rednecks, entertainers whose politics you can't quite figure out (Kidd Rock), and guys who are somewhere in between right and left. The trick is figuring out where they are, and who they are beneath the show, because we don't have to be entertainers to entertain. We all wear masks to some extent.

SALESMEN

I forgot to mention Dad was also a Salesman. He never stayed on the same job long, until he and mama purchased the Hearing Aid business from my mother's brother; however, Dad was always selling something, from Fuller Brushes to Standard Coffee, and everything in between. He didn't like having a boss, always the independent rebel, and selling was a way he could support his family with little supervision. He worked hard, but on his own terms, and he was one hell of a salesman.

Sales guys are often womanizing types, as they are after all, salesmen. I've loved a few salesmen since Dad, and they are good at what they do. If they have a flaw it is found in service after the sale, as even Daddy has been known to question why one should "chase a train he has already caught." Men are sort of like my Australian Shepherd stud. You must keep them working, or else they become bored and destructive. They want direction and to work towards something; that is what the thrill of the chase is all about. Keep these guys working for your affection, and they are alot of fun. Allow them to get bored, and they are no fun at all, at least not for you. They will stray, and find other women to chase after. They need to hunt; they were hunters long before industrialization ever took place. Like my cat Fluffy, they will hunt, either you or someone else.

WRITER GUYS

Writer guys are great, because being men, they would ordinarily act like stone walls; however, as writers, they allow you to see deep into their souls. Dad was my first writer friend; however, there have been many since him. Now, I have many on hubpages, and am able to jump from one to the next, enjoying men at their best. Writing is such a unique way to make friends, because there is no better way to discover what is inside a man or woman. Many of us have diverse personality sides, and this is also fascinating, and fun to explore. Through my writer friends, I travel to places I have never been, learn Ninja fighting skills (probably misspelled, dohn, correct me if I'm wrong), and experience exposure to issues and current events of which I have been unaware. Most of these guys I've never seen in person, but they almost feel like intimate friends. My writer friends cut across racial, national, political and cultural lines, and I feel so blessed by them.

WHITE COLLAR EXECUTIVE TYPES

These guys are the hardest to read, actually, because they are soooooo controlled in their behavior and actions. I fell in love with a therapist in graduate school, who was also my professor and academic advisor. Today, I know this is never supposed to happen, but I'll forgive him, because it is one of my fondest graduate school memories. His power was intoxicating, yet sexual intimacy never took place, probably because on some level I knew it would be lethal. I was also attending a Southern Baptist Seminary, and he was a Seminary Professor. I don't know about him, but I think I was worshipping the wrong deity. Thoughts of this guy filled my waking and sleeping hours for months, and I absolutely adored him. He was nothing like my Dad, unusual in my men. When I finally decided I needed to leave therapy, due to the fact I felt I was paying for a relationship, the tables suddenly turned, and he did many things to attempt to get me back in there. I romanced the whole thing, which was probably a destructive force in both of our lives. Nevertheless, it taught me I can be attracted, and obsessed, with white collar, blue blood types, not to mention pastors. This guy was actually the pastor of a church! No wonder I avoid church today; the passion is too hot for me to sit through the sermon.

MARRIED MEN

In Seminary School, I also fell in love with a married man, in fact, my visits to the therapist happened as a result of this love affair, also never sexually active. It happened by accident, as married men are generally safe, and I needed trusted friends. New Orleans seemed a long way from home, and I went there alone. We both became insanely attracted, after hours of studying together over ice coffee in the student center. We were friends for months before the mutual attraction took us both by surprise, or at least I was surprised; I can't speak for him. My therapist, and next flame, advised me to stay away from this guy, after I told him the guy called me in the dorm to ask if the library was open. Of course, he could have called the library, after I avoided him for two days to cool down the mutual flame that was about to burn out of control. This assured me I wasn't the only one with the feelings, but also assured me I should continue in my avoidance of him. He was after all, studying to be a pastor, and the church does not approve of such unions.

MEN IN 12-STEP MEETINGS

All I will say about these guys is that they pose a problem for themselves and for women, as they often exchange one addiction for yet another, and cause us to do the same. Dad was a drinker, and most of these guys were very much like my Dad, and several of his brothers, who were all, except dad, womanizing types. Never has a small room been so full of sexy, obsessive men, as the 12-step club house meeting I frequented, until I luckily left for graduate school. While these guys all warned me New Orleans would lead to my drug relapse, it did not do so, while my flirtations, and often dangerous behavior with these guys, almost did. I left just in time, and have never regretted it. Still, these guys leave some wonderful memories for me, as I hope I do for them. I sincerely hope they remained drug free, and are happy and productive somewhere today, free of all addictive behavior.

CONCLUSION

This hub is getting too long, thus I must end it, not because I don't have more to say, but because I do. Nobody is going to read a hub any longer than this. Just know that I believe men are sensitive, strong, wonderful, sexy beings, and some of the best of God's creations. I thank my higher power daily for all of them.

DADDY'S GIRL: LOVE SONGS TO DADDY: (CLICK BELOW TO READ THEM)

http://hubpages.com/_2pvzhao591xs4/hub/DADDYS-GIRL-LONG-SONG-TO-DADDY