blogitto ergo sum

March 2, 2008

#126 – Man’s job, Woman’s job

Filed under: Uncategorized — yael [ya-el] wagner @ 12:22
Tags: ,

There are accepted activities that belong in one’s Sunday morning, and there are things I don’t expect to find myself doing.  not on a Sunday morning; not on a Friday afternoon. To finish reading Monstrous Regiment (by Terry Pratchett) is accepted and fun. To follow their act and do a man’s job? Unexpected, undesired, unwanted.  not me.
And if unexpected, how did I find myself on a Sunday morning crawling behind the TV-receiver-DVD player-CD player-Sonos-cluster rewiring the speakers. And if one crawls behind that mess, one has to clean up all the dust and whatever accumulated back there among the wires and cables. There are things I simply don’t care to know, don’t want to know, and much less do. However, giving up music is not a real option for me. So after the Comcast guy ripped the wires and connections to the right speaker on Friday, I found myself @ Fry’s on Saturday, getting speakers wire, and perspiring on the carpet on Sunday. Striping the wire ends and screwing the ends into their “homes”, without messing up the “+” and the” –” is no fun.  worth, there’s no sense  of accomplishment once successfully done.

not by looks only

while the women in Monstrous Regiment have to fight for their right to perform and get recognized for their manly military actions. As far as I’m concerned, equality should mean that men get to do feminine work, and women get to choose what they want to do… Can’t recall any man complaining about having such options for generations. 100% accuracy is not what I’m going for here, in case you wonder about facts and gender. All I want is the ability and ease of delegating such projects to those who for years felt it’s their God-given territory. I guess I could blame my dad for recruiting me to wiring projects in one of our never-ending renovations projects while in elementary school. Or the appeal of painting the gables of our home instead of dusting books or whatever caged-in-the-house task my mom would have me do. True, my progress was dependent on the availability of a manly figure to move the ladder, but if anything, that meant long breaks between one segment to the next. And, unlike dusting, you paint only every other year, once a year if you are anal about it.

speakers are working, tools have been put away, and it’s time for some womanly unpacking.




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