On the Subject of Pissing Contests

Most people entering into a pissing contest are men. It may have something to do with the size of the weapon they brandish -- in this case their ego. If they hear that someone has gone somewhere or done something or acquired something that they consider to be within the territory they have marked as theirs, something in the psyche clicks and the game is on.

In the old days (she said, as though she had dentures to talk around), a man wouldn't dream of taking on a woman in a pissing contest. Wouldn't be gentlemanly. But in this day and age one-upmanship is like driving on the freeway -- chivalry is dead and it's every man -- and woman -- for him/herself.

Women don't typically do pissing contests. They do baby showers. Example:

"I hope you won't be in labor 36 hours, as I was."
"Only 36 hours? I was in labor three days!"
"Well, be grateful for epidurals. I delivered naturally. An 8-lb. baby boy."
"Eight pounds? My baby weighed 10!"
"I delivered in the backseat of a cab! No one to help but the driver!"
"I delivered all alone. No anesthetic. Baby was breach. Took me all night. I had to untangle the cord from around his neck, then bite it to sever it. He was 10 lbs. 4 ounces."

You get the idea. For some reason we women seem to award brownie points for suffering. Then we eat cake with lots of frosting and oooh and ahhh over the presents being opened. Men have a similar points system, comparing scars after a battle. Then they drink beer. If they're lucky.

Most men can butt heads with each other then back off and go to lunch together. Take attorneys, for example, who battle it out in court, but when it's over, it's over. They've done their job. Outside of a professional context, however, oneupmanship cries out for analysis. If your neighbor buys a new car but yours is a more expensive model, why would you bother "dropping" that fact in conversation? Why not just be happy for your neighbor? Answer: insecurity. Yes, women have it too but women typically want to be accepted, whereas men want to be king of the hill. Go figure.

I've never been a very girly girl. I'd rather cut wood and run the chipper in the backyard with Frank than simply serve him ice tea now and then, with a sweet smile. I practiced karate for 12 years back in the days before protective gear was worn. We were trained to execute control. There were no segregated classes then so I often sparred with men. To be honest, it sort of gave me an advantage because they really didn't want to hurt me. Except for one 12-year-old who bopped me in the nose (poor control). I wasn't old enough then to be his mother, but I figured maybe he had an older sister he didn't like? More recently I've seen men and women compete in martial arts. Everybody kicks ass without compunction!

We were expected to compete in tournaments and I did. Have the trophies in the attic to prove it. Don't have the heart to toss them. I'll let my kids do that "when the time comes." The point I'm trying to make though is that I do not enjoy competition and I can remember the exact day I made a conscious decision to avoid it whenever possible. I scored the highest final exam grade in a statistics class, and was embarrassed when the professor announced that. There was another student whom I felt should have had that honor. She thought so too, and was crushed. I felt bad, not good.

Still, it's hard when someone tosses a challenge your way, to turn around and walk off. So I get suckered in sometimes. It happened recently. Afterwards I gave myself a little talking to, and asked myself, "What have I learned?"

Answer: I've learned that, in a pissing contest, when you notice your opponent (yes, it was a man), really grovelling for material no matter how weak, to keep himself in the game no matter how wimpy he may seem, the way to bow out gracefully and put an end to it is to simply -- laugh, and leave.

And blog about it!

Lol!