Who really picks up the tab when women buy their own
September 12, 2004
Should "buy her own..."
Have noticed that posters of Men's rights message boards tend to believe that women should pay their own way. Many have either been messed over big-time in divorces or have relatives/friends stuck in a form of serfdom a.k.a., child-support. After a divorce, it's one thing to start over with mortgage payments at 32, but it's totally another at 52 - and then be scowled for not chipping in towards Katie's college textbooks. Another complaint is the general rudeness of (American and European) women toward men. These men, misogynist or otherwise, make a valid point - after all, there are plenty of polite ways for a woman to convey to the man sitting a few barstools over that she is not interested. And aren't these the same women who cry the blues to their girlfriends about another Valentine's Day gone by and no diamond to show??
But secular masculism is feminism in pants. Sometimes can't help but wonder if NOW's database had been hacked into; it's essays plagiarized. Oh well, guess greed and finger pointing are (so prevalent in feminist books) prone to happen when Father/Son/HolySpirit goes ignored, ridiculed or flat out banned from the discussion. Instead, the topic seems to center on money - that she should "buy her own [darn] beer!" Of course, then (goes the predictable ape-[sheet]) after two or three dutch-treat dates she'll hopefully go at it with him like a primate in estrus - (then leave immediately after finishing her cigarette) because we're supposed to be evolving past "john and prostitute" rituals of dating (and, oh Darwin forbid - "marriage").
What these forums seem to largely forget is: there's a price that every adult pays when married women are compelled to pay with their own coin. With every adult primate out there scratching for a living, the cost is evident in the (wanting) want ads section of any newspaper. In this metro area of about fifty thousand adults, the average number of office jobs posted daily is about twenty - been checking the paper for going on two years. The Sunday edition posts about twice that number, but atleast half of those are through (female-staffed) rackets, commonly referred to as employment agencies; one could wonder if business owners contract their hiring to these matriarchies in order to avoid legal trouble - which can occur when mr-employer, (wanting the job done right, the first time) hires the best man for that job.
These office jobs range from data-entry clerks to upper-level managers. Around here, the unemployment rate is about five percent - but word is, unemployment stats are based on the number of people who are still eligible to collect compensation. If only five percent of the 2,500 unemployed individuals, who still receive unemployment benefits, are seeking office work, each of these 125 individuals stands less than a twenty percent chance of being hired. While these figures are not based on any formal, or even informal study, one could wonder about these ball-park figures during the half hour application or initial interviewing process... when the phone rings again, and the caller, like the previous one, is evidently asking similar questions - regarding the "fast paced" (yet falling short of the groceries and rent) customer-service position. While $9 an hour may be a borderline insult, it sure beats an utterly demoralizing $0.00 an hour.
A desk job could be a viable option for a man who is no longer able to climb telephone poles, fight fires or install carpet. Why the late-70s man, who has been on his feet since 6 am bagging groceries, isn't working as a teller over at the bank (where they have chairs for the tellers) is anyone's guess...though surely, Canada cannot be the only nation whose banking executives may have disrespected returning war veterans. As a job-seeker, (because taxes and health-insurance are nothing but extortion) have also noticed the points of contact are often female - one could wonder how often these women, (in the human-resources office) receiving/reviewing incoming resumes, come to work feeling somewhat disenchanted with a current (live-in) boyfriend - who has yet to present a certain 2 x 2.5 inch white box won't - or are upset with an ex-(boyfriend or husband) who is slow in coughing up his half of the kid's school pics.
The absence of help-wanted signs, while six out of ten registers remain closed throughout the late afternoon rush - seem to evidence an employers' market (while two or more employees' back teeth have been floating for the last hour or so?). Wasn't more than a decade ago, in that very same store, above each register a sign proclaimed that no customer would be number four in line. Needless to say, those signs have been years since taken down, and while being number four isn't a common occurrence, being behind one shopping cart - brimming with the usual haul of frozen entrees, disposable (excuses-for) mop-heads - which is behind another - where paper towels in the nine-roll (two-week-supply ) size are being placed on the conveyer belt, when one of the lines is jostled by a child rushing back with the econ-sized box of trash bags... Perhaps employers' annoying practice of hiring skeleton crews is only part of the wait, the other half spent waiting and waiting might be the check-out process of convenience items - which hog up more time than plunking onto the belt a sizable pot roast, a cotton mop-head, a half-dozen washable tea-towels (and leaving the hundred-count eco-killing trash bags on the store shelf).
But the environmentally friendly process of peeling fresh vegetables and cleaning the floor with a (real) mop and squeegee is more drudgery for many a "working" (like a sled-dog) mom. Cotton mop-heads are known to become dingy; from time to time they need soaked in a bucket of warm washing soda, rinsed thoroughly then left to bleach in the sun - while a shelf full of fluffy tea-towels become, real quick, a(nother) damp load of laundry to be put in the dryer then taken out and folded. A wastebasket full of plastic vessels and paper towels take but a minute to put in one of the not yet too crowded (super-sized) trashcans sitting out back - and fighting the wind.
Meanwhile it's no big secret that the golden rule of economics of supply and demand applies to communities that are finding themselves hard-pressed to contract places to dump convoys of incoming truckloads of (supposedly bio-degradable) plastic bags - while, to and from the sites, traffic snarls on (potholed) highways which were engineered in the days when families weren't compelled to finance two vehicles (one emitting fumes while the clerk at the drive-thru waits for the cheese-burger ordered without mustard to come off the grill, as the driver in the other vehicle sees the exit light change to red for the second time). It seems there are never enough highways; the new ones (displacing more home and business-owners - relegating both to the mercies of female-staffed mortgage institutions) take forever to get finished, while the old ones get bumpier with each passing winter. Meanwhile, less ground is available to absorb (Ivan's) rainwater and so replenish the water table upon which both residents and businesses depend.
This essay isn't an attempt to pass judgment upon working moms who make less-than eco-friendly choices. Frankly, can't really blame these overworked women - who, after the daycare, car, and UGLY clothing expenses - barely have enough money left over to buy a hard-cover book, or time to read it. But at the same time, 'am not make more excuses for wives who ditch their husbands - as if these men were quik-way cigarette lighters (because the laws let them - the same laws which were originally intended to protect the long-term housewife, who in the past had found herself ditched for a hot secretary). But discussions seldom, if ever, seen on these (grossly secular) Men's rights boards deal with one basic fact: when most people, men or women, are compelled to do too much - and the work (be it an accounting report, a mowed lawn or folded towels) ends up mediocre at best - sooner or later, the hurried results are bound to have adverse effects upon the individual, his or her family (and upon the ecosystem). Now add months or years of not-quite-enough-sleep to this classic recipe-from-below... Should anyone wonder why legions of (otherwise) smart women are making - then bitterly regretting - dumb choices!
Having listened to mothers exchanging stories about their children, it seems evident enough that keeping after missing buttons, crumbs left on the countertop, paths of tracked-in gravel, runs to and from soccer practice...is full-time work. At the risk of sounding naïve, people want to do a good job - and any workplace study will reveal the reason why employees quit their jobs is less about pay and more about work environment. It's one thing to divorce oneself from an office (where the server is slow, the phones constantly ring, the boss yelps about productivity but is too much of a cheapskate to upgrade the system, and the coffee pot reeks of burnt residue) but to give 90-days (or has that since "evolved" to 30-days) notice at home is another matter.
Attached to that couple-ounce registered-letter is not only tons of delusion, but the baggage of female-staffed job-creation - positions, paid with "society's coin," which create neither product nor service only generate for every man and woman (the rubbish pile of) higher bills and emotional blackmail.
Seems that as more women fall for the "buying-her-own" philosophy, we all end up footing - at the very least - one or more portions of that bill.
Sue Botchie
