Ann
Ipock
Humorist,
author, speaker
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Georgetown
Times
Stand by your
man, he’s gonna need it
By Ann Ipock October
25, 2006
Well, now I’ve seen it all. The ad in the “Raleigh News &
Observer” screamed out, “Stand by Your Man.” For some
reason, it just floored me. It sounded so dated, so chauvinistic, so Tammy
Wynette.
I knew she had passed — so she wasn’t performing at Walnut
Creek Amphitheatre — though her famous song suddenly got stuck in
my head: “Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman, Giving all your
love to just one man, You’ll have bad times, And he’ll have
good times, Doing things that you don’t understand.” Lord,
ain’t that the truth! Speaking of don’t understand?
I glanced at the ad to see if maybe this was a new movement. I mean we
have every type of support group on the Planet Earth. And it’s for
sure that some men need some standing by. Maybe it was for men who were
Mama’s boys and needing a little extra TLC. Maybe it was for men
who were going through their second childhoods, ordering face cream and
fancy convertibles.
Or maybe it was for men who’d gotten in trouble with “The
Lew” as Peter Sellers called it. But no, I was way off. Y’all,
it was a ploy to GET YOUR MAN to attend a free health screening and seminar
at a medical clinic in Raleigh.
Oh, now I get it. Just one more bother we women have to bear, just one
more itty-bitty irritation we have to endure. We all know that men hate
to be messed with by doctors and nurses — so, now we’ve got
to accompany them? Puhleeze! Think about it: What man can stand to have
his blood drawn? Most say, “I faint at the sight of needles.”
Never mind the fact that when little Harry Jr. was born, a big old horse-sized
needle was plunged into Mama’s spine just moments before she delivered.
And men always act tough when accidents happen, then they refuse medical
help, but wind up begging for sympathy.
Like the time hubby Russell was mowing the lawn and a big old stick flew
out from under the lawn mower and stuck him right in his forearm. Sure,
he pulled it out first; but then came inside and made me look at the horrid
wound.
I went into a tizzie, saying I was sure he’d get tetanus or typhoid
or trichomonas if he didn’t seek medical help.
He just glared at me and said he was fine. I stood there shaking my head
at the blood spots on the back steps (wondering if Clorox would remove
them). He cleared his throat (just for good measure, I’m sure, on
account of he wanted some sympathy) and said, “Would you please
get me a Band-aid?” I wanted to say, “If you’re fine,
maybe you should get it yourself.” But of course, I absolutely did
not. It’s true that many years ago Russell was a good patient when
he had his vasectomy, but I know why. The feel-good juices kept him humming
and rocking deep into the night.
I read this ad to myself
once more, then read it out loud to Russell (who was driving): “Get
a load of this, honey. This crazy ad says, and I’m quoting here:
‘For him: Heart Health for Men; The Stone Cold Truth about Kidney
Stones; SportFit for Golf; Vasectomy 101; Sweet Dreams: Sleep Apnea &
Snoring; and Men’s Plumbing: How It Works and When to Seek Professional
Help’.” (I am not making this up!). Also listed were various
screenings including body mass index (fugetaboutit) and prostate screening
(now I know why I need to be standing by my man). At the very bottom of
the ad, as if it were an afterthought, it read, ‘For her: Pampering
(include chair massages) and Screenings.’ Well, all right, I got
interested then.
But I wonder: Do I get the massage before I’m standing by my man,
after, or maybe, during?
It’s a shame this health event is taking place four hours away.
I guess I’ll just have to stand by my man right here and hope his
plumbing (whatever that means) doesn’t need professional help in
the near future. Too bad because that also means my massage will just
have to wait.