MEN IN MY FAMILY

I have great men in my family. My father and my two brothers are great people - sensitive without being wimpy, strong in the best sense of the word, funny and practical jokers. Plus, they can all build or fix anything. I am a well educated person, but I can't fix things to save my life. Absolutely no skill in that regard, and I so admire those who can build things and understand engines and 'stuff like that'. They've tried to teach me, but that knowledge just leaks away from me. I can't retain it.

Here is a poem I have saved and admired, and somehow embodies how I feel about the men in my family.

MALE IMAGE

I watch for my uncles to come in from the fields,
The three of them, big-shouldered men in overalls,
Their bare necks are streaked with dirt and sweat
Which I want to lick when they pick me up.
They are so warm and strong; they smell of summer:
The dark odor of horses, the dry green smell
of tomato plants, the tan smell of loam.
They taste male and I can't get enough of that.

They also talk male. Everyone else calls me Teddy
or Little Benny, after my father, who doesn't pick me up;
They call me "You bondit" which is Yiddish for rascal,
Or Butch McDevitt, which makes me feel like a cowboy.
When my uncle Moish puts Brownie in the stable,
He says, "Get in there, you son of a bitch".
Son of a bitch. I say it over and over after that,
When I rake the chicken yard, shuck the corn.
It's not a bad word anymore. Son of a bitch:
It's what men say when they are strong and happy
Because they have something hard to do.

Ted Solotaroff