That’s a Wash

Feminists often don’t acknowledge the exploitation of men. The assumption that men have always possessed personal agency is in direct opposition to most of our history. Most men did not get to choose their social status or career options. Most men were expected to conform to predefined values and obligations – same as women. I’d even go so far as to suggest that the rift in egalitarianism was fairly recent. When modern western society shifted towards one of individual autonomy, women were excluded – a social problem which has, on paper anyway, since been addressed.

Of course, what’s written and what’s practiced are two different things. And while legal obligations such as, say, equal opportunity in the workforce be enforced – which are dependent upon everyone playing by the rules, shouldn’t so too certain social obligations be governed? A woman is judged by her domestic competence. And men are judged by their physical abilities and willingness to suffer physical injury. Why don’t we as a people change these?

Because they supersede civil law. They long predate civilization. They remain the foundation to our survival as a species in those early days, which paved the way for common law, prior to civil law. I don’t think they can ever be changed. They’re part of who we are.

Point being: as a man who lacks economic and political means, I’m trapped in an exploitative system too.

So it was that 10 years ago I willingly agreed to be the functional mass of man flesh required to maintain an estate…for 10 years. My premonition at the time was that age and injury would compound to ultimately end my usefulness as a man after that timeframe. Such a prediction has turned out to be surprisingly accurate. I’m gradually phasing into a period of needing more hired help, and becoming incapable of tasks which formerly were straightforward.

And one such task is moving heavy objects. In this particular case – laundry machines to the basement! Moving these machines was always a bit of a struggle, but no Herculean effort. Then Liz’s new wash machine arrived. It’s the first front-loader we’ve ever had, and as it would turn out, significantly heavier than top-loaders. Its specs weigh in at 217lbs. And the all-steel appliance dolly we borrowed was 50-70lbs. That’s really damn heavy, especially considering that the bottom step of the basement is narrower than laundry machines, requiring one to lift them over the stair ledge on the final push.

We managed it, but I’m paying the price. Next time, younger men are needed.

They’re also entertaining to watch!

Of course, this will be 10 years this summer, at which point I might irreparably break anyway. At least my promise will be fulfilled.

–Simon

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