I pray that God would stop my heart, should I even become this much of a dolt:

I was visiting my father in New York. My brother, my male best friend, and my father’s sensei were also at the house. I wondered if they would have survived at all without me and our dutiful daily housekeeper. I imagine they would have eaten out every night, the house would have been in shambles, and a roach or ant colony would have moved in, as none of them can manage a simple dishwasher or washing machine.

The first morning during my trip, I found myself in the kitchen. I was happy to have the place to myself. I don’t care much for conversation before noon. The men trickled in slowly. I could not finish my breakfast. Each one berated me with requests.

My father does not do anything practical, not even boil water.

The sensei, while extremely polite and unassuming, can only cook using his microwave, not ours.

My brother needs three female assistants to do anything menial. He often makes such a fuss about his obligations, a stable of women manage his burdens simply to quell his anxiety.

My best friend cannot charge his telephone without someones help.

via Taki’s Magazine, edited by Taki Theodoracopulos.

I pride myself in being someone, who can cook and take care of myself very well; thank you very much. Cleaning? Well, that is another story. I have never quite understood how men that are that bad, can even survive. I guess you would say that I am overly self sufficient. Which might explain why I am single man. Weird as it might seem. I hate other people doing stuff for me. Some men love being waited on hand and foot; not me, I cannot stand it. Now before any smart asses bring up my personal living conditions; I am not referring to that, I am referring to simple tasks, like washing clothes. The only person that washes my clothes, is me. That way if something is messed up, the person I have to blame, is myself. Cooking is another one. Around this place here, my Dad cooks Breakfast and Supper. My Mom used to do all that, but when Dad retired, she told him, “It is now your turn!” and promptly resigned as house cook. Surprisingly, my Dad cooks very well; Oh, it’s not got all the fancy frills of a woman’s cooking. But it is surprisingly good cooking. Now, if I were on my own, could I cook my own food? Yes, absolutely. In fact, I have quipped to my Mom in the best, much to her amusement, that the Four things that I can do rather well are Read, Cook, Drive, and Screw!  (I do not mean with a screwdriver either…)

Mandolyna Theodoracopulos goes on to write about how women are addressed in her household. Now, I am not sure if she was just being funny or if that was the honest truth. But, I will say this. If I ever addressed my Mother as “Bitch” or called her a “Bitch”. I highly doubt I would be living in this house for very long at all. Yes, My mother raised me to respect women; and I do my best. Even when they make horribly difficult to do so. In fact, I never once called my Ex-Girlfriend Laura that at all — at least not to her face. 😯 😮 😉 😛 😀 Now, her to me on the other hand; Well, we won’t go there! HEH! 😆 In fact, I can attest to a few times when I was referred to in a couple no so pleasant four letter words.

Another reason why this article caught my interest is, just by reading it, you can tell how different of a life that Mandolyna Theodoracopulos leads, than say, me. For you that do not know Mandolyna Theodoracopulos is the daughter of Taki Theodoracopulos, who is quite the wealthy man. Taki has also been married several times as well — go figure. I have always had a keen interest in the lives of the wealthy, how differently that they live; as opposed to we common folk. A passing fancy one might say.

Cross Posted @ Alexandria