I admit, saying that all men are like antelopes is a sweeping statement. Not all men are like antelopes, it’s true. Some of them are. Many of them are. Well, whether most of them are is still out for review. We will never really have the hard data. I do know some men who most likely are not like antelopes, now that I’ve been thinking about it for a day or two. They would not deceive a potential mate for sexual gain. No, they would not.
Here they are, in the order in which they came to me:
Mr. Ellsworth, my 9th grade World Civilization teacher. Out of nowhere, he stood up on our desks, to make a point. Took a running start sometimes. He had other things to think about.
Ernest, my former mailman, in Chicago. He was so nice. He was the nicest man in the Midwest, maybe America. He waited when he saw me coming with my dog, so that we could walk with him. Barney didn’t like many people. Barney loved Ernest. We gave him a plaid scarf for Christmas, to match his uniform. It is cold in Chicago.
I am not so sure about my current mailman.
Matt Lauer. Maybe not Matt Lauer. No. Yes, Matt Lauer. Matt Lauer is not like an antelope.
The podiatrist who scraped the corn off of my toe two years ago. He was more like a lemur.
Okay, that’s it.
Wait, not Matt Lauer.
In Kenya, it seems the male topi antelope is a bit of a trickster. According to a study reported today in The New York Times, the topi pretends that a predator is nearby in order to convince a female topi to stick around. A female in heat, by the way. When he sees her about to take off, he does what he does when a real cougar or lion is around…stands guard, looks out, makes a certain sound. The female doesn’t risk it and stays, long enough for the male to have a romp. It appears to the researchers that since she mates with many males, this has happened before. They think that perhaps, she’s weighing the odds.
Women weigh the odds sometimes, maybe not when death is perched on one side of the scale. Convenience, perhaps, money, kids, status, fear. But they weigh them. And I know a few men who know this. Graduates of the Topi School of Relationship Building. In a real crisis, though, I’d rather have the four-legged deceiver in place to protect me. That is, if I needed help.
Imagine that you are 87 years old, a grandfather, war veteran. Healthy, happy, living a life with purpose. You are a regular blood donor, so regular, in fact, that you are celebrated for your generous and kind spirit. The organization that has been collecting your donations, for years, decides to give you a present. For your efforts, it will treat you to a ride in a sportscar around a race track. You will not be traveling at a grandfatherly pace. No, you will be going fast. Really fast.
Odd, I think, for an organization that stores blood to be used in such things as auto accidents, many of which occur when drivers are speeding, to praise the life of a blood donor with a whirl in a speeding car. This is insanity, really. And nowhere in the conception, planning and execution of the insanity did anybody realize it. People do not think enough, except about silly things.
Of course, as stories go, this one went the way you’d write it. Full of irony and pathos. The strangeness of truth. The car crashed on the track and the man was killed.