Recently, I took the family to the 2004 edition of the North American International Auto Show in downtown Detroit.
As life-long residents of the Motor City, I believe its our civic duty to brave the bitter cold and swarm-like crowds to attend the annual event. Plus, the cars are pretty darn cool.
Of course, during the drive to the show, my wife and I once again laid down the law for my two sons and their tag-along friend. The ground rules include the ever-popular "Always stay within eyesight", the utilitarian "Remember to use your manors" and the hopelessly optimistic "Don’t ask us to buy you anything – particularly if it requires an owner’s manual."
Once inside the cavernous exhibition hall, the three boys adhered to our guidelines in a manner which can only be described as commendable. Unfortunately, the actions of many grown-ups in attendance left much to be desired.
As a result, the following is my brief list of rules for adults who are planning to attend an upcoming auto show in their hometown:
DO have a seat inside the various open models located on the floor.
DON’T lock yourself in, then sit for 10 minutes pretending you are engaged in a high-speed chase on the Autobahn. This is particularly apropos when people are lined up for a turn to sit in the car, and we can all see you making "Varoom! Varoom!" noises on the inside.
DO lift your three-year-old out of his stroller to give him a better look at the $80,000 Range Rover that has drawn a small crowd.
DON’T allow your three-year-old unsupervised access to the interior of said Range Rover, especially if that three-year-old has a sticky, foreign substance all over his clothing and views the lap of the unrelated adult sitting behind the wheel as nothing more than a built-in booster seat.
DO stand and politely admire your favorite car.
DON’T walk into the middle of a group of people admiring a certain model and say out-loud, "Wow, that car is butt-ugly!"
DO help yourself to the free brochures for the various production and concept cars on display.
DON’T grab enough brochures to wallpaper your den, leaving an empty box for the child waiting politely behind you.
DO ask the pretty spokesmodel standing near a concept car questions about said vehicle.
DON’T ask the pretty spokesmodel to go for a ride in your car.
DO check out the multitude of useful storage bins placed throughout the new Lincoln Navigator.
DON’T use one of said storage binds to dispose of the paper cup from your tall caramel macchiato.
DO suppress all bodily emissions while seated in a floor model with three other people you don’t know.
DON’T slip one out and then exit the car, leaving the other occupants to suffer in silence.
DO ask for your wife’s opinion of the hot, little convertible number she has secretly desired for years.
DON’T ask for your wife’s opinion of the latest minivan model, especially after she vowed to shave your head bald while you slept the last time you brought up the "M" word.
Now, one might be able to come up with additional rules if given time, but I think the preceding is a pretty good start. In fact, if auto show attendees would simply adhere to these guidelines, I am certain the event would prove to be more enjoyable for all concerned.
With that said, I need to go check the mirror to see whether my hair is starting to grow back.
Copyright 2004 Marc L. Prey
All rights reserved.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
Is There a Mind-Reader in the House?
This is not going to be easy, but I feel it is my duty as a purveyor of goodwill between the sexes to address a long-standing misconception.
Women (and you know who you are), it is high time you realized the truth about us men: We are simple creatures, and we take what you say at face value.
I know you have suspected the "simple" part of this statement for some time now (say, from the moment you first saw us use the great outdoors as a bathroom), but let me put to rest any doubts you may have: It’s not an act.
We men are a guileless (and frequently clueless) fraternity. When you say something like, "Whatever you make for dinner will be fine," we believe you. As a result, we are flabbergasted when you berate us for serving you fish sticks and tater tots.
Apparently, you expect us to develop mind-reading capabilities as a result of taking our marriage vows. The reality is, we only become dumber.
As evidence of your unreasonable expectations, I cite a recent passage from a "Home Life" column by local newspaper scribe Marney Rich Keenan. Ms. Keenan admits that this Christmas she told her husband not to buy her anything, as they had already spent way too much money on their children’s gifts.
Then, she writes: "I knew full well at the time, of course, that I would hold it against him [if he failed to buy her a nice gift], sure to bring up ‘The Christmas You Never Got Me a Present’ at every argument heretofore, from now until kingdom come."
What gives? From a pragmatic viewpoint (yes, we men tend to be both simple and pragmatic), this kind of thinking might be considered counterproductive.
Unfortunately, it also appears to be the rule in male-female relationships. Rather than telling us exactly what you want, or explaining exactly what you are thinking, you leave us men to figure it out for ourselves.
This is a supremely bad idea. If any of you women doubt me, I suggest you recall how your guy – without any direction – figured out for himself how to get to an unfamiliar destination the last time the two of you ended up lost in the car. Gives new meaning to the phrase, "fashionably late," doesn’t it?
Of course, it also leads to the following question: Why do women persist in playing these mind-reading games with their men?
I posed this question to my wife, and she responded with a one-word answer: Romance.
Apparently, women find it romantic if their men can figure out what they want by some means (hypnosis and Sodium Pentothal come to mind) other than simply having their mates come right out and tell them.
Which brings me back to the fact that my brethren and I are too simple – too dense really – to recognize the mysterious clues you provide us for solving the riddles in your minds.
Oh, we will try and, occasionally, succeed, but more times than not we will read your signals incorrectly or (duh!) miss them entirely. Inevitably, this leads to disappointment for you and the garbage disposal for a handful of innocent little fish sticks.
So, when my wife recently broached the subject of making New Year’s resolutions, I suggested she vow to tell me what was on her mind, rather than making me guess.
"Do you really want me to do that?" she asked.
"Yep," I replied.
Then she took off the gloves and let me have it.
Of course, this led me to revise the conclusion to my hypothesis: Sometimes, things are simply better off left unsaid.
Copyright 2003 Marc L. Prey
All rights reserved.
Women (and you know who you are), it is high time you realized the truth about us men: We are simple creatures, and we take what you say at face value.
I know you have suspected the "simple" part of this statement for some time now (say, from the moment you first saw us use the great outdoors as a bathroom), but let me put to rest any doubts you may have: It’s not an act.
We men are a guileless (and frequently clueless) fraternity. When you say something like, "Whatever you make for dinner will be fine," we believe you. As a result, we are flabbergasted when you berate us for serving you fish sticks and tater tots.
Apparently, you expect us to develop mind-reading capabilities as a result of taking our marriage vows. The reality is, we only become dumber.
As evidence of your unreasonable expectations, I cite a recent passage from a "Home Life" column by local newspaper scribe Marney Rich Keenan. Ms. Keenan admits that this Christmas she told her husband not to buy her anything, as they had already spent way too much money on their children’s gifts.
Then, she writes: "I knew full well at the time, of course, that I would hold it against him [if he failed to buy her a nice gift], sure to bring up ‘The Christmas You Never Got Me a Present’ at every argument heretofore, from now until kingdom come."
What gives? From a pragmatic viewpoint (yes, we men tend to be both simple and pragmatic), this kind of thinking might be considered counterproductive.
Unfortunately, it also appears to be the rule in male-female relationships. Rather than telling us exactly what you want, or explaining exactly what you are thinking, you leave us men to figure it out for ourselves.
This is a supremely bad idea. If any of you women doubt me, I suggest you recall how your guy – without any direction – figured out for himself how to get to an unfamiliar destination the last time the two of you ended up lost in the car. Gives new meaning to the phrase, "fashionably late," doesn’t it?
Of course, it also leads to the following question: Why do women persist in playing these mind-reading games with their men?
I posed this question to my wife, and she responded with a one-word answer: Romance.
Apparently, women find it romantic if their men can figure out what they want by some means (hypnosis and Sodium Pentothal come to mind) other than simply having their mates come right out and tell them.
Which brings me back to the fact that my brethren and I are too simple – too dense really – to recognize the mysterious clues you provide us for solving the riddles in your minds.
Oh, we will try and, occasionally, succeed, but more times than not we will read your signals incorrectly or (duh!) miss them entirely. Inevitably, this leads to disappointment for you and the garbage disposal for a handful of innocent little fish sticks.
So, when my wife recently broached the subject of making New Year’s resolutions, I suggested she vow to tell me what was on her mind, rather than making me guess.
"Do you really want me to do that?" she asked.
"Yep," I replied.
Then she took off the gloves and let me have it.
Of course, this led me to revise the conclusion to my hypothesis: Sometimes, things are simply better off left unsaid.
Copyright 2003 Marc L. Prey
All rights reserved.
