Stereotypes

Stereotypes are a lazy way to deal with anything. You figure that if one {fill in the blank here} is good (or bad), then every {fill in the blank here} must be the same.

So if one song by a particular musician is great, then everything he or she produces will be? If I like a meal at a particular restaurant, then I’ll like everything they serve? Sorry – it doesn’t work that way. However with people, the most complex, complicated, confusing entity on this planet, we believe it’s okay. If one Lithuanian is difficult to deal with, then they all must be. (Quick! Tell me where Lithuania is! Too late! You stereotype them and can’t even find their homeland on the map?)

Therefore, I like the things that poke fun at stereotypes.

The bumper sticker that says “I run like a girl” with the 26.2 oval sticker that marks a marathon runner.

There’s a comic strip in Navy Times called “Broadsides” written by Jeff Bacon. In one of them a male sailor is asking a female sailor “What’s a nice girl like you doing on a ship like this?” to which she replies “Commanding it.”

Before my son was born, my wife, because of my intellectual orientation (most certainly not because of my non-athletic physique, particular lack of coordination, absence of skill, or compete apathy toward sports) asked “What if our son turns out to be a jock?”

Well, he did turn out to be a jock. When he gets up, the TV immediately goes to ESPN. At dinner it’s blaring “Sports Center” (whether he’s actually in the room or not.) He can quote stats like a bookie. His room has New Orleans Saints and LSU memorabilia.

He spent most of today at soccer training. He spent most of tonight explaining how sore he was and why he couldn’t do an chores.

On the other hand, my daughter was also at soccer training today as well. Perhaps not as long or as arduous, but soccer training is soccer training. I’ve yet to see anything but a lot of running and stretching at soccer training. Being a girl, when she got home, after exercising the dog – she dragged me outside to throw the baseball around for the better part of an hour.

Like I said, stereotypes just don’t work.

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