| | I feel like I'm being schooled in what a "real man" is like. 
So, this morning when I got up, I started processing a few things that have been making my head spin. And the Jes processes most naturally by writing things down. (This is mostly because she's had a lot of practice in using writing to communicate thoughts. That practice had resulted in a comfort level which has granted me confidence in this one area.)
Back to the topic at hand: the greatness of men.
Nayt and I went to see IRON MAN this past weekend. First off, Meagan Brookes needs to be thanked, because she gave Nayt the Christmas present that allowed us to see this movie (and have an awesome date) for free. All we had to do was show up.
Anyway, so we're sitting there in the theater, watching the opening scenes of the film and there are three hummers truckin along in some mountains. I hear Nayt mumble to himself, "ah, Afghanistan." Immediately I wonder, "how the crap could he tell by some friggin mountains and three hummers that the setting was Afghanistan!?!" Lol. And then militaristic text rolls out at the bottom of the screen, validating that my future husband was right.
As an aside, any time I watch "boy movies" that include heroes or "Americanism" and most especially the Armed Forces (regardless of branch or division), I tend to think of three specific people. I think of my Uncle Paul, who is this fearlessly amazing Nurse for the Army. He's served QUITE a bit of time in Iraq over the past 5 years, and I had this great conversation with a nurse in the hospital where I work because of him. I think of him all the time. I have been wanting to send him fun presents. Sometimes, he has gone to battle at the expense of his fearlessly lionhearted wife, my Aunt Yvonne. I have always had a special Yvonne-shaped place in my heart, mostly because throughout MY life, she has consistently been willing to share who she is (and whoever she is) with me and Monica. Aunt Yvonne lived in my parents' garage for awhile. Sometimes when extended family comes to live with you, it can turn ugly. I'm sure there were moments when I was a brat, but in general, if Aunt Yvonne was involved, Monica and I got really excited. She has been the fun, cool older sister I never got to have. And when she went off to Desert Storm, I watched her parade her new Army clothes for us in my living room. We have the pictures to prove it.
The third person I tend to think of when presented with an image of the Armed Forces is my dear, dear Grandpa Elvy. The last time I saw him was almost three years ago this August. I won't get to visit his grave for probably a year or two, though I was saddened (deeply) that I did not have the time or money to fly to California and stand with my parents at his funeral to honor him. For many reasons that I cannot go into now, my Grandpa has been a special person to me. He was well-known for his "Elvy wit" and told me many stories about teaching Math that I still remember to this day. But my own Dad, his son David, did me the great service of telling me stories that my Grandpa related to him about his experiences in the Navy in WWII.
The result was an awe and respect for my Grandpa for his service.
So, the hummers in IRON MAN connect me to that preexisting opinion of a few honorable servants in the U.S. Army, ok?
Anyway, the movie was extremely well-done, in my opinion. As Nayt would probably agree, you never can tell how well a company is going to turn a comic strip/book (or ANY book) into something visually entertaining and engaging to watch. Were there sick moments where I had to turn my head in IRON MAN? Um, yes. I will admit that I have a squeamish stomach and have absolutely no desire to see men tortured or dying. I am not a soldier. I cannot handle that well. I haven't trained myself to cut my emotions away from stuff like that, yet. So I turn my head and fight back tears.
But I will tell you this: as I was sitting there, highly enjoying this movie, there were a few key moments where I turned to whisper something to Nayt. Every time I did, I couldn't help but to notice that he was totally enraptured with the film. It was like, "speaking his language" HARD CORE.
Because I have a vested interest in Nayt, I wanted to know what he was thinking about the movie. It would have been rude to ask while we were watching it. So, I baited the hook and waited for what Jack Sparrow would call "the opportune moment." I'm not sure Nayt will be able to effectively tell me what he experienced, watching this movie. But I do know that he bought the soundtrack on iTunes yesterday...not even one day after we had seen it in the theaters. That suggests to me that it connected with him. Lol.
And if I don't have this blog to share and explain myself, I really am a coward. It's one thing for me to process this in my journal and keep it a secret, but it's quite another to put yourself out there in a real, authentic way. Other people can comment here. Other people can make their own judgements. To be an artist can sometimes feel like being a soldier under fire!
The processing has led me to arrive at one major conclusion: men need to be men.
Don't hear me wrong: I am NOT advocating that men should be posers. To act like a man and to BE a man are two extremely different things. But there's a reason men connect with "boy movies" that involve war and history and evil conspiracies and mind games and twisted plots that don't make much sense to us women sometimes. (At least, they don't make much sense to ME sometimes...but I still want to watch them. what's that about? lol) Perhaps, these movies connect with the call a man feels to be more of a man.
Does that resonate with any men out there?
If you call yourself my friend (or value me) and you're male (and believe me, I know who you guys are: Naythan, Big Daddy Andy, the Scott, Sherlock, Sykes, Dunn, Scuba Steve), would you do me the incredible prop of communicating whether I am on target here or not?
Basically, it all boils down to something deeply personal for me as I walk through the final month before "I do." I am beginning to pay attention as God peels back the layers on the men around me. I'm beginning to see how awesome it is to have men play to their own personal strengths. (Thanks Dad, for randomly attacking my dirty car with a vengeance!) I'm beginning to feel the effects of them offering their strength when I feel weak. (Thanks, Nayt, for stroking my hair in small group Sunday night.) It's good when men are men.
To the few, the proud: The men who fight to be men. You who are ruthless at all costs to hold onto who you feel you should be, I tip my hat to you. In your small way, you have done so many a service. You have offered to shoulder their burden. You have played "the game" well. Thanks for being iron men.
Always,
Jes
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| | Posted 6/3/2008 7:18 AM - 30 Views - 2 eProps - 1 Comment
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