- traditionalmasculinity24.10.2021 - 20 minutes ago
“Like Father like son.”
The words rang out in your head as you sat before the man who had come to complain about your music being too loud. You hadn’t met the neighbor before then but now he was calling you son and insisting you call him Father. You protested, explaining you already had a father thank you very much and you didn’t need another one, but as the man gazed deep into your eyes, long plumes of smoke trailing from his pipe and exhaling from his mouth and drifting into your nose, your mind went blank. Yes, this was your Father and you were his son.
“Like Father like son.”
The man told you he wore a suit and tie every day. And now so would you. You wanted to protest. You wanted to explain you had spent enough money on the newest clothes from ASOS to keep your wardrobe fresh but as he repeated the phrase and you inhaled more of his smoke, you knew he was right. You would always dress like your Father. Every. Single. Day. He told you you would stop wearing your contacts and begin wearing black rimmed glasses like he did. You knew you would do it. You were powerless to resist.
“Like Father like son.”
Your mind emptied out as he filled it up with new rules to follow, manners to take on, protocols to live by. The phrase became your mantra and it would keep you behaving, dressing and grooming properly forever. Any time you thought about cursing or talking back to someone, you heard the phrase in your mind. “Like Father like son.” And instead you were polite and gracious.
Any time you felt like taking a casual day where you didn’t have your tie tied tight and a suit jacket on, or you wanted to skip shaving and just deal with being a little stubbly. “Like Father like son.” And you sprung to attention, shaved your face, applied Old Spice, and got dressed in a freshly starched shirt, tied your tie tight, and put on your sport coat. That’s how Father lived and therefore it was how you lived now too.
Any time you wanted to listen to music with curse words in it. “Like Father like son.”
Any time you wanted to watch a movie with nudity or violence. “Like Father like son.”
Any time you went to the barber shop and wanted a haircut besides the flat top Father made you get every two weeks. “Like Father like son.”
You were helpless to resist. You had to live up to Father’s standards. And the more you tried to fight it, the stronger the voice became. Until eventually, you stopped fighting it. The words were your mantra yes, but your behavior became automatic. Eventually you stopped resisting. Finally you were exactly like Father. You were his son, a perfect clone of him that any Father would be proud of.
One Sunday morning before church as you were smoking your pipe and reading the newspaper, your doorbell rang. It was your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend now. He hadn’t seen you in weeks after all. He was worried about you. You invited him in and offered him some coffee. You told him to wait and everything would make sense soon. After all, Father was coming over that morning, and you knew your ex boyfriend needed to be like Father like son as well.
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- devious-little-milkmaiden24.10.2021 - 1 hour ago
Cat Tail, Bat Tail
Cat tail, bat tail,
listen to jazz to your heart’s avail
sweet honey cider that never recedes
cut the comb open and see if it bleeds—
I’m getting tired, call me a cab,
Don’t worry darling, give dancing a stab.
When did your living room couch turn red?
You’ve got a bundle of nerves in your head.
hush, for a moment:
cat tail, bat tail,
listen to jazz to your heart’s avail
sweet honey cider that never recedes
makes lotsa good words, lotsa good treats.
It’s getting dark, i can’t see the words,
You don’t need to darling, they sing like the birds.
I think i’m hearing my brother’s voice
But he doesn’t live here, he’s up in Detroit.
Oh what is this song? who made these trends?
Cat tail, bat tail? it’s the jazz song that never ends!
/
(Note: The change in capitalization indicates a change between speakers) ♥
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