Turns out that in my own anger, I pulled the same stunt that I was berating others for doing - I made brash generalizations. For all those men that are sensitive and smart and grown up enough to bear my idiocy, I apologize. It's very easy to get caught up in some sort of reverse discrimination in an attempt to gain equality, and that is equally as counter-productive. It's a slippery slope once you try and get on.
Which reminds me of an old Enid Blyton book I used to read as a kid - did anyone else grow up on Enid Blytons like I did? Mallory Towers, The Five Find-Outers, The Famous Five, The Secret Seven, The Children of Mistletoe Farm, The Enchanted Forest, St. Claire's, Noddy, and so on? I had to learn to read on my own when I was about 4 - mom had my brother and I had to entertain myself. Some of my clearest memories was sitting close to my mother as she did her mom-thing and read, spelling out words to her that were new to me. I read my first ever "Big Kids" novel - the first St. Claire's novel - about twins that go away to boarding school - when I was about four and a half, and was hooked. I was the kid that begged for books as presents - I must have read and re-read every book in my house a million times.
The only TV I'd ever watch (other than the occasional Tom & Jerry cartoon video) until I was about 10 were the ten minutes of commercials that Indian national TV broadcasted at 8 PM every night, after the news. I used to look forward to those advertisements like you wouldn't believe. Apparently I was a marketing geek before I even knew what marketing was.
Anyway, back to Enid Blyton. A 'big kid' friend of mine, who I rarely see now, but will always credit for my love of reading, basically took it upon herself to increase my range. I remember very well the day I went to her to borrow another Noddy book (I was 4) and she said, "Enough baby books." and chucked a novel at me. I'd never been so intimidated in my life, but I took it and read it (very laboriously, but still) and never looked back since.
I know Enid Blytons are banned from North America - or that's what I've heard. She uses terms that are now inappropriate, but I will always look upon the stories she wrote fondly. She instilled not only a love of reading in me, but also fired up my imagination like no TV ever could. To this day, I walk through a wood imagining that pixies and fairies are hiding under the leaves, I look upon very tall trees and wonder which magic land is visiting this week and every rocking chair, in my head, grows wings that I will see when I'm ready.
