When we’re in charge, things are going to change around here

Some thoughts on Viagra, Oreos and war as a dance fight

That’s right, I’m talking to YOU.

An acquaintance once shared a piercing insight with me, namely that a woman would never have invented Viagra or its evil twin Cialis. Rather than addressing erectile dysfunction, she pointed out, a modern day Madame Curie would almost certainly have taken on the larger, more pressing problem of masculine inability to pick up dirty undershorts, socks and T-shirts from the floor and transfer them to the hamper. Among the fairer sex, it is well known that the repetitive act of relocating well worn, often soiled undergarments is a surefire libido killer in women. As a result, Viagra becomes about as useful as sneakers on a fish, and the only thing the suddenly tumescent spouse is likely to be able to use that thing for is a place to hang his damp bath towel.

Hang up that towel! via blokeshealth.com

For obvious reasons, I often recall this conversation while sorting the laundry, and recently as I was working my way through about six weeks’ worth of washing, I had ample opportunity to consider the question of how our world would be different if women had done the bulk of the inventing over the years.

Now, before my male readers jump ship and go searching for more testerone-friendly surroundings, let me just say that I have no plans to turn this into a husband bashing extravaganza, unless of course I decide to whip up another batch of Bloody Marys before I get to the end of this post. In that case, all bets are off, grammar rules become suggestions and I can’t guarantee we won’t also end up discussing Emeril, Fairway or the New York Yankees in terms that are at best pejorative, or at worst obscene. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

I hate guys. Via my hero.com.

I like guys. I really do. In fact, I have always tended to avoid anything with a feminist label, starting with Virginia Woolf and continuing through the ass-frying ill humor of Gloria Steinem and right on up to the droning, whining sanctimony of the Women’s Studies majors of today. Though I remember clearly the era of bra burning and Women’s Lib, with the exception of Bella Abzug’s hats, I have always found it all too boring and annoying to even contemplate. Call me an ingrate; I’ve been called far worse and occasionally will even answer to the name.

Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yes, Madame Curie, Viagra, undershorts. So I have concluded that daily life would be subtly, yet measurably different had women been doing the inventing over the years. For example:

Light bulbs
First of all, any wattage higher than 60 would never have been invented, and if it had, the bulbs would be in use in operating rooms and holding cells exclusively. The notion of domestic overhead fixtures would have been dismissed outright as the product of diseased minds. Why? Because stark 150 watt bulbs are absolutely disastrous for all but the youngest female face. I haven’t screwed in anything higher than 60 watts in my house for years, and we may be on the cusp of a general downgrade to 40 watts in the not too distant future. If my eyebags get any more ruched, it may come to a candles-only policy in the evening. Eventually Mr. Slattern will have to learn to read Braille or start wearing a petzl around the house.

If only Mr. Gravity had been stopped before the scalpel was applied. Via plasticsurgerybest.blogspot.com.

Now I realize Isaac Newton only discovered the principle of gravity, but I think we can agree his time might have been better spent trying to reverse it. One look at my jawline is proof enough. If only he’d brought his work home, I think Mrs. Newton might have been able to offer some gentle suggestions and guidance as to the direction his work might take for the betterment of mankind. If so, asses might be riding a bit higher in midlife and millions of tragic face, brow and breast lifts could well have been avoided.

Oreos = Health Food
If women ran the food industry, they would have long since developed a harmless and effective way to remove the carbs and calories from sugary treats, so that spending Saturday night with a pound of thin mints or a cherry cheesecake would be the same as a week at a fat farm spa. Also, there would be no “cool ranch” anything, and beef jerky would be sold in the pet food aisle.

And what exactly am I supposed to wear with these?
via foottalk

It would never have existed – at all – and we’d all have been spared the sight of hideous bowling shirts and the horror of rented shoes. If by some quirk the game had been invented by a woman, the shoes at least would come only in black (slingbacks with a kitten heel I think), teams would wear matching caftans and champagne would be sold at a modest mark-up in the bar.

The Theory of War
Forget Sun Tzu. Left to us, war, territorial disputes and power struggles would be resolved by either 1) dance fighting, 2) fashion supremacy, or 3) a series of cutting remarks. Failing that, we’d dress the combatants in formal attire and lock them in a small overheated den with their mothers in law for a few days while The Wheel of Fortune played on a continuous loop. That, my friends, is deterrence that works.

Dance fight! Courtesy britannica.com

About WSW

Writer, wife, mother. Toiler in the bottomless, black, soul-sucking coal mine of domestic life. Thank God for the portable bar.

Posted on June 19, 2012, in Commentary, The Slattern Speaks and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 23 Comments.

  1. Guess who’s AWESOME!? You are. So I gave you the oh so amazing Pink Tree Award. Click the link below for details!


  2. As always, you’ve uncovered deeper issues; Newton clearly lacked direction and focus, Mr. Bowling Man was a lonely, unsexed, vindictive bastard who hated women, and beef jerky is vile.

  3. Flipping love the light bulb idea!! And little black heels for bowling just might make me want to go. As far as gravity concerned … I’ll never be able to afford any touching up so I’ll just let the chips (or chins as the case may be) fall where they may!!

    Just wanted you to know I nominated you for an award today. (I know… I know) but I really wanted my readers to check you out!


    • You are far too kind. Many thanks for the recommendation. Your on the road lifestyle is my favorite aspirational image. By the by, you know I once considered diverting the wine budget to a facelift savings plan. But then I sobered up. Crazy, right?

  4. Unlike Cristy, I’m cool with you just being a blogger. However, when you do work for the New Yorker, can you help me get my book published?

  5. So funny I had to share it on Facebook! Why aren’t you famous yet? I promise that I’ll love you more when you’re writing for The New Yorker.

  6. Given your stance on war I might just have to write you in as my vote for President! This was awesome, thanks for the laugh!

    • Thanks, Audrey! Too many skeletons in my closet for the presidency, I’m afraid, though I’d certainly consider any ruler for life positions that open up.

  7. I’m all for allowing women to run the dessert division of the food industry. Have at it. But I won’t let you take away my gluttonous unhealthy waistline expanding meat, cheese, and bread based foods! 🙂

  8. Snoring Dog Studio

    Gravity is so overrated. I’m with you on all of this and I’d add one thing – Jars would be made to be opened without getting a hernia in the process.

    Brilliant writing as usual!

    • You know that jars thing is a real pain. I HATE having to ask my husband to open things for me. Now that you mention it, I’m wondering if that isn’t an intentional design flaw.

      Loved your post on food and fractions, btw. Always happy to see you around the place!

  9. You’ve done it again, sliced through all the BS and come up with solutions that make sense. The Theory of War is perfect. If WofF doesn’t work try Family Feud with Richard Dawson or The Newlywed Game. As for lightbulbs, we’re going through the changeover to energy saving bulbs. You need a second mortgage to redo a whole house.

  1. Pingback: 2012 North American Wife Carrying Championship: Oh yeah, it’s real. « The Kitchen Slattern Speaks

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