Frank Georgalis – Writer

Greece—Guys and Dolls: What’s a man to do. MALE PRIDE

My Young Uncle

My Aunt’s house

MALE PRIDE

I, being a novelist, tend to become a sentimental slob. I would like to take out the word “Slob”, but it has been placed there by the male pride. Men in general don’t wish to be sentimental, because of their male pride, which, in many cases, is based on their thinking that women tend to be sentimental. Becoming sentimental, many times it brings tears into one’s eyes and other times one takes a sentimental journey. It was a sentimental journey that I had taken and visited my birthplace while I was young man, in the American army and stationed in Germany. Note, that I mentioned America Army, because many would think, because I was born in Greece it was the Greek Army. I was a young boy when my family immigrated to America. There in America I was raised and lived most of my adult life and I do not refer to America as the Land of the Brave, I call it The Land of the Good and the Plenty.

Here I am again, I am becoming sentimental. Please understand that my training is in public speaking and I do have the tendency of sounding more like a speaker than a writer. That only means that sometimes I go off the main track, why not? Talk is cheap.

In my last article under the heading of GUYS AND DOLLS I took a shot at women, today I will take shot at men.

Many writers, when telling something about men and women get into the brain, anatomy, metabolism of the human beings and the whole thing smells like a pharmacy. They bring forward the DNA the genes, the family tree episode and they eventually sound to as if they are building the Tower Of Babel where nobody understands anybody. My article is simple: Men are guided by pride and are proud to be men and women are guided by resentment being women when it comes to catering to men. Please stand by: let me explain myself. In my last article I concluded that women would rather be maids to their dog rather to their men, I think the reason is that dogs wag their tail in appreciation and men shake their fists in pride. Don’t get me wrong, not all men and women belong to this category, you have the right to enlist as many as you want.

Arriving in Greece, I was received as a celebrity I had left the country as a boy with short pants and there I was, a man, a soldier of the strongest country in the world.

Out of 2,500 inhabitants 1, 000 were my relatives so I had a wide choice of houses to stray.

Some of the houses in Astakos, the place where I was born, are near the water and some are standing at the foot of the mountain.     I was lucky because I had close relatives on both sides of the town.

Having spent the night in my aunt’s Dimitro’s house at the foot of the mountain and the green bushes being caressed by the climbing sea breeze, I woke rather hungry.

I asked my aunt for two eggs and immediately she motioned her husband Panos to go somewhere. A few minutes later my uncle Panos returned carrying a handkerchief with some eggs inside. After breakfast I asked where the eggs come from, thinking that they might have a chicken coup down the hill from the house. He told me that he bought the eggs from a neighbor lady.

“With all due respect, uncle Panos, you have enough ground here to raise many chickens,” I said

It took him a few seconds longer than normal to answer, “Your aunt doesn’t have enough time to take care of chickens,” he replied

“How about you, can’t you take care of the chickens?”

“Me?” he answered very harshly. “I am a man. Men don’t take care of chickens. That’s a woman’s work. I have pride. If I take care of chickens, I’ll be called Panos the chicken man.”

The conversation continued for a lot more time than I wished to endure and a lot more words than I liked to hear on the subject of pride: a man’s pride that is. That conversation was a lesson for me to learn. I never use the phrase “I am a man and I have my pride.”

Right there and then I learned the meaning of the Holy Bible verse “Pride and haughtiness comes before disaster” ‘

In my next article I will write about my uncle’s violent death, because of his pride, a few years after my visit.

Immorality is more smearing than is contagious.