The Age of the Wuss

This sounds like a chapter from a fantasy adventure story, but it is actually a chapter out of modern history. Last night I died laughing, but was resurrected, by my male genetic code to survive this modern age, from watching comedian Don Friesen.  He’s now my favorite comedian because he has observed the modern wussy world and is making a living from it.  Here’s a sample.

All aboard the wuss train – wuss, wuss!  I refuse to ride that train with shaved chest, legs, arms and groin, carrying my little man purse and looking modern in my man Capri.  My daughter says that men like this are now called a hipster.


A hipster you say? If you go back to the 1970’s, my generation, they would have been called a wuss.  Sorry, I know it is not politically correct, but I’m not a politician.  It’s funny too, because when women post photos on Facebook or blogs you see something like the following photo below under a category called “Man Candy.”  Now he might be wearing a leather kilt, but also notice the salivating women bidding on this “man.”  How many of you ladies would bid on an Erkel or a Bieber?  That’s what I thought.


I graduated high school in 1977.  I was 6’1″ and 135 pounds.  I was not a man, I was a twig.  If I turned sideways you couldn’t see me.  I was the incredible disappearing twig wussy. See, I don’t even spare myself.  So I took off on a quest to leave wussyville behind me – forever. One year later I put on 50 pounds of muscle and BAM –  Quakers Instant Man!  My love life went from zero and dead on arrival, to hero and gone in sixty seconds.  I was going on a hunch that strong men survive the gene pool. The age of the wuss had ended.

So ladies help me out here, tell me what you are really thinking?  Here’s your choices – the sensitive, fashionable, video game addicted, completely shaven, hipster twig wuss of a man like slave substance, or


A real man with hair and muscle, ready to lay down his life and rescue you from evil.  With this hero, you’ll have to carry your own shopping bags.


I think I know the answer.

Men in kilts

Yup, I was right the first time. The wuss train is leaving, the man candy wagon is boarding. ALL ABOARD!

Man up men!


4 comments on “The Age of the Wuss

  1. Lisa Orchard says:

    Hello! This is a very interesting post! 🙂 I just wanted to stop by and say thanks for following my blog! I hope I write some interesting things for you!

  2. Elisabeth says:

    I think society places too much weight on outer appearances. A guy can be Brad Pitt on the outside, but a sniveling little weakling on the inside. Not to say that Justin Bieber has any excuse, but the outside is all the eye sees. I also think our culture is becoming nauseatingly feminist (I’m a woman, I can say it) and the environment is making boys into wusses by glorifying girls who are “better than,” “tougher than,” or “smarter than” boys. A boy who yells at a girl is considered overbearing and sexist. A girl who yells at a boy is considered strong and independent. Now, I don’t think that should be condoned in either case, but my point is that I’ve noticed society repressing masculinity in favor of feminism. Boys and young men are discouraged from acting like men because it’s looked down on as “old fashioned” and “archaic.” (Large amounts of soy in the diet have also been known to do freaky things with male hormones, but we’ll get into that some other time.)

    Personally, I think it’s more important for a man to have honor, courage, and a kind heart than pumped arms and abs that resemble sections of a Hershey bar. But no, I do not find the pasty-white Edward Cullen look appealing nor do I admire the stick-thin, too-skinny-for-skinny-jeans Bruno Mars look.

    Okay, that reply was really long. Hope I made sense! =)

    • ewgreenlee says:

      Elisabeth, we come from different generations. You may learn later on in life that people are fickled. They will say one thing, but will act contrary. My generation had Donnie Osmond, who I’d correlate to Bieber. Luckily we don’t all have the same taste or the world wouldn’t be any fun.

      You may also notice I make considerable fun of myself. I hope that one day you find a man of honor, courage and a kind heart. But, trust me, you might need one that can pick up a ten pound bag of sugar too, or reach objects on the high shelf in the kitchen.

      Thanks for replying, but I hope you got a chuckle or two too.

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