Male Men

A good ol' summer-storm power outage.

Our mailman has a lead foot. He comes ripping through the neighborhood after lunch each day, often bypassing blocks at a time, I think to unload packages first and loop back around to deliver paperstuffs. You can hear him zooming around long before he gets to your house because he's got that little mail truck's sewing machine engine pushed to max capacity. It's buzzing with all it's might. When I hear him at the neighbor's house, I make my way to the window so I can watch him deliver our mail. He flies past our house and screeches to halt at our mailbox. He stops so abruptly that he and the car lurch forward before settling back on the asphalt. Then he smacks open our mailbox and leafs through his piles for stuff with our names on them. The best part is watching the envelopes leave his car and make it to our box. I think he throws them or flings them or flicks them, but either way, they leave his hand before they leave his truck. It happens so fast that I can't quite figure it out. 

He'll smack the tongue of our mailbox but up again and then hit the gas with his whole foot. He and the little car whiplash backwards before plowing ahead to the next house. It makes me laugh every time. And he's not a friendly, pleasant person. I've smiled and waved and all the things but he never acknowledges me. In fact, he scowls. Also, he has a frustrating habit of hustling anything that won't fit into the box up to the front door. He hurls it to the porch, scampers back to his truck, and then lurches forward to the mailbox to deliver the paper mail. Why doesn't he just put it all by the door and save himself twelve seconds? 
In any case. I like him. It's like if Dad was a mailman - except that Dad would be very friendly, jubilantly engrossed in his own competition to deliver mail the fastest. 

Some birthday visitors.

Unrelated but equally amusing, I read that half of men surveyed believe they could land a commercial airliner in an emergency situation. This helps to explain many of the encounters I've had with their kind. Not only do I not believe I could land an airliner with no prior experience, part of me feels worse putting it in the hands of someone so irrational. But, I also couldn't just sit there and do nothing, so I guess I kind of get it, and anyone willing to keep me from having to enter the cockpit has my respect. It's a complex conundrum to consider... if you're a woman. Apparently heaps of fellas think it's simple as pie.

I approached Brett with my findings. His expression suggested that what I told him was not wild information. "Do you think you could land a commercial airplane, Brett?"

A knowing, guilty grin spread across his face. I saw him relent to his own mind. "Well, yeah."

Then we laughed and laughed.

Brett understands that pilots have to fly many different planes for thousands of hours before they're allowed to do so for others, but he still felt this information was negligible. "If it's an emergency, I have to something."

"Yes, but that's not the question."

I go on to find out that men (represented here by Brett) feel they could land a plane because of prior video game experience doing so, as well as a general understanding of engines and the aerodynamic principles of lift and drag. I will concede that I do not have a general understanding of engines or aerodynamics, so I'm comfortable letting the gamers and nerds take the lead in this particular emergency.

Then we introduced the idea of talking to air traffic controllers on the headset while maneuvering the plane and that only bolstered Brett's confidence. I'll concede again here and say that I could probably do it if it was being explained to me - but it certainly wouldn't be a smooth ride. I suppose a gentle crash landing is acceptable in this instance.

Then I had the thought that we ought to let a woman do it because she would do a better job listening to the traffic controllers. Not saying men wouldn't, just that women would listen harder - maybe let them finish their sentences before yanking on the lever or pushing the button. I didn't say this out loud to Brett because I knew it would make him grumpy and defensive, and that would cause him to both miss and prove the point I was making. But I'll say it here because I am the author of this space.

There is no need for me to even call Dad to check because I know he thinks he could land that plane too. I don't think he'd even be all that worried about getting it right. I think he'd be thrilled by the challenge. Brett would be appropriately stressed. Dad would be unnervingly excited. So then I did that thought experiment. Do I want the inexperienced pilot to be judicious or optimistic? Both traits seem paramount to the situation.

I couldn't decide. Hopefully they're both on the plane and can work together.

Today I found myself wondering about my mailman landing the plane. He certainly works fast. Seems motivated. But I worry he would be satisfied stopping the plane with a direct hit to something with a little give to it. "Close enough!" he'd think, and then he'd hop out and rush off to his next assignment.

My favorite barnacle.