There comes a degree in our psychological growth when the male will come to know what it means when individuals say, “boys might be boys.” I’m referring to the pure experiences that boys endure at a sure stage of their growth—the primary second they notice they’re male, affected by what they discover interesting and engaging, which frequently 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 growth can set off those that shield or promote psychological sickness, resulting in accusations of fascism and the potential cancellation of 1’s digital existence. However I digress; I’ll in all probability 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 most important road on Lengthy Island—in all probability Jericho Turnpike or Dawn Freeway. It needed to be a Saturday as a result of I used to be with my dad, who normally 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 season of 1967.
We got here to a halt at a crimson gentle within the heart lane of a giant intersection. As visitors piled up behind us, a pack of bikes (which I’d later be taught have 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 automotive seats in these days). I used to be standing proper subsequent to a man on a chopper, with nothing between us however air—a very 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 have been wider than he had ever seen— and he was a physician.
I keep in mind that each a type of guys regarded like the person subsequent to me, with lengthy hair and beards. Because it was scorching, most of them have been simply sporting their cuts, revealing tattoos I had by no means seen earlier than, together with muscle tissue, veins, and scars. Their bikes have 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 have 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 blokes using these bikes have been in all probability someway on the darkish facet, which was certainly interesting, it was their bikes that burned into my soul—a giant, loud American V-Twin with little to muffle the exhaust. The scary racket they made fascinated me. The concept that an individual—even perhaps I sometime—might management such brute chaos? These guys have been as cool as they have been bad-ass, and the motorbike accomplished the image like a horse completes a cowboy. It epitomized “man stuff.”
This realization is the crux of my level. Large, mean-looking, and hard, 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. Should you regarded on the males near me at any level in my life, you’d see powerful, manly-looking males, coated in muscle tissue, tattoos, and beards—usually well-armed, very succesful, stand-up dudes, a number of of whom have been to jail, experience 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 components that can make him massive, sturdy, quick, powerful, courageous—a protector and supplier—primarily, “man stuff.” Any lady my age taking my place within the passenger seat of that Jeep would have had each palms over her ears, crying and screaming for my dad to make it cease. This attraction is simple, and there’s just one motive for it.
Now, this has nothing to do with function modeling. I’m definitely not implying that the Hell’s Angels have been my function fashions as an alternative of my father. My dad was an instructional—no tattoos, no bulging muscle tissue, not into sports activities, and he didn’t develop a beard till he retired. He by no means rode a bike, however he was powerful, succesful, good, profitable, a superb husband, an distinctive father, and a loyal pal. He’s, to me, the undisputed world champion of function fashions. I’ve expertise and talents which have allowed me to steer 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 changing into males—are naturally drawn to issues which can be usually perceived as unhealthy, unsavory, nefarious, or damaging, however that will also be constructive, inventive, 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?