I Concur

...The woman makes the man. As much as we love our vile and juvenile ways, we men yearn to be made better by women. Men rise or fall to expectations. We want our woman and marriage to raise us up above our crassness. Men may have built the structures and run the institutions, but when you see a civilization, you see the demands of its women. Sure, men wrote the history books too, so it looks like institutions and structures are paramount, but women build the societies that manifest themselves in such institutions. Victorian standards are offered as a prime example of "woman in chains," but you look at that society--men wearing suits, ties, and hats to work, to the market, to the show. Women in exquisitely complex fashions. Men opening doors, pulling out chairs, not belching at the table. Ask me? Men may have felt themselves in charge, but they weren't. Cut to the present. Women as a political force decide the woman's place is not in the home or the salons, but in the institutions. Women as a political force renounce sex roles. Women at large adopt the dress of men. Men at large regress to the dress of children--ballcaps and T-shirts in church. Do you think women wore corsets for the benefit of men? No. Men will take a woman wearing anything or preferably nothing. The only reason a whole class of women crammed into corsets was so that other women would get jealous and say, "ooh she's so skinny."
...It's probably true that you can't comfortably or reliably change a man to be much "better" than he was on some of your fancier first dates. That's him being the best man he can be. If he didn't bother to primp for you or suppress belches then, he never will. But if he was willing to dress to impress without being hectored, I'd say he's showing what he wants to be. He's hoping to find a woman who will keep him there. I could introduce her to things she's never done, but if it's to become a way of life--she's got to take the reins to make us a classy couple. I'll drop as low as she'll let me, until she complains or I get sick of myself and resent her for letting this happen to me. Those nice places I took her on our first dates? Restaurants, nightclubs, plays, symphonies? Haven't been to those places since. Now I'm hanging out with her pothead friends on a weekly basis and just not caring what I wear to work anymore. Her friends are really nice, really good people, but for them, life finds its meaning in unravelling the mysteries of the universe through arbitrary speculation under the influence of some totally sweet bud.

Sam makes some great observations here, I believe. I definitely fall into this category. Without the occasional inspiration from my wife, I would be a completely worthless being.

If you're looking to be entertained, read the rest of his post. It's funny stuff, indeed!
- posted by Jason @ 9:34 AM