I *Heart* Boys

I love men. I really do. All kinds of men. It doesn't matter where they come from, what they do, or who they love. I'm fascinated by men.

I've spent so many years with friends who either idolize men and define their lives by their husbands, or who really seem to hate men and do a great deal of husband bashing. Either attitude drives me insane.

I had a lovely afternoon yesterday, sitting in a garage and sharing a meal with the men my husband serves with. The other couple of wives who were there stayed in the house, baking and chatting. So it was just me, a lone woman, privy to that exhilarating phenomenon we call male bonding.

They talked about work. They called each other by call signs. (I referred to my husband by his name and one of the guys asked me, "Who?") They cooked food gathered from the local land in huge stainless steal pots. And they picked that food apart with their bare hands. They drank beer and talked sports. Ahhh. Men. You just gotta love them.

I'm always asking my husband for the details of his men-only world. "What do you guys talk about?" I ask. "What do you do together?" "How do you feel?" And he looks at me like I'm crazy, not understanding in the least the fascination I have with how men interact.

When I was growing up, I so badly wanted to be a boy. Life seemed so easy for them. They could rough house and get dirty and nobody seemed to care. I didn't have an imaginary friend, I had an imaginary alter-ego who was, of course, all boy.

When I became a teenager I realized that it wasn't so much that I wanted to be a boy, as that I wanted to love a boy. I wanted one of those guys for my very own. I wanted a real man who could be strong, yet tender. It took me a while to figure it all out, but I got exactly what I was looking for.

As for my childhood alter-ego, I swear he returns from time to time. But mostly now I just enjoy talking to men. I love getting to know them. I enjoy gaining a peak into their world.

What can I say, I just love men! Don't you?