Thursday, February 2, 2012

WABP (Woman Against Bachelor Parties)

Mere's newest trick...look no hands
Anyone who knows me even marginally well, knows I love a good laugh. I can bust a gut laughing over classic t.v. shows like I Love Lucy, Dick VanDyk, and Hogan's Heroes. I love irony, and good slapstick. I'm not particularly into puns. My favorite parts of the Reader's Digest are the three humor columns. My friend, Margaret, and I, used to read through the RD jokes and laugh together. Our husbands would sit and roll their eyes. Here's to you, Margaret...
There was a new, young chief in the nation. As he was growing up, he had no time for the ancient traditions of his people. He was into face book, and email, and the Wii. Technology and all that. But now his father was dead, and he was in charge. His tribe came to him looking for direction. "Will it be a long, cold  winter?" they asked. The young chieftain was stumped, and didn't know what to say. He should have listened to the old stories. Shoulda, woulda, coulda...Anyway, he decided to err on the side of caution. "Gather much firewood. It will be a long cold winter." And with that, the tribe went out to gather wood. The young chieftain, wanting to hedge his bets, called the National Weather Service. "What's the forecast for the winter?" he asked. The weather man told him that it was looking like it was going to be rather long and hard. This reassured the young chieftain. The tribe gathered wood diligently for the entire week. But, they were getting a bit skeptical with no signs of winter coming, so they approached the chieftain again. "Are you sure?" they asked again. He confidently replied, "yes!" And sent them out to gather more wood. But, he figured he would make doubly sure for his own peace of mind. So he called the NWS again. "Are you sure about the long, cold winter?" he asked the weather man. "Of course," replied the weather man. "The Indians are gathering wood like crazy."=) (and if that doesn't have you busting a gut on this Ground Hog day, you are hopeless.=))

the freckle=)
While I am a big fan of humor, I am not a fan of bachelor parties. Not even "Christian" bachelor parties. Now, to clarify, I have never attended one, so my perspective could be a bit skewed. But, seriously, what is the point? You get a bunch of guys together for what? A last single fling? A guys' night? A time to do potentially dangerous, possibly illegal, and definitely stupid things? Wow! That sounds like a blast! Not. Mr.Hippie has attended many bachelor parties since we got married. (which debunks the theory that you never get "guy" time after you are married.) And I always make the mistake of asking him what they did. Why, oh why, do I do this to myself? Mr. Hippie's own bachelor party started out a park grilling steaks. Then they went bowling. Okay. Then they went to the State Park. And lit off fire works. Which is illegal. (consequently, just weeks later 2 teenagers were in BIG trouble for doing the same thing. Only they started dune grass on fire, and burned down a house or two.) Not only did they light off fireworks, but they were shooting them at each other. Maturity and good sense abounded.(that was sarcastic) Thankfully no one was badly burned or got an eye poked out or anything. Fast forward a few years to another bachelor party. This one involved playing bumper cars with golf carts, and almost driving them off cliffs. Hmmm, sounds like a great time to me.(more sarcasm) The latest, in a long line of bachelor parties, included tackling the soon to be groom, down to the wet, muddy, frozen ground for the purpose of writing on his bare chest with sharpies. I heard that saner minds prevailed. So instead of sharpie-ing his chest, they prayed over him, while he was lying on that same cold, wet, muddy ground. Male bonding...How do they survive?
I am not against "guy time." I think they need time to just be men, or boys. Mr. Hippie organizes a guy's retreat every summer, and also has gone to a men's 4 day long Bible study for the past 12 or 13 years. He gets to play basketball, and soccer, and wrestle, and run, and beat his chest like Tarzan. (okay, I don't know that he beats his chest. I just thought it sounded like it fit.=)) If I ever take off for a few days, (with the kids, mind you), he inevitably has a guys' night. Complete with a Risk game, beer, and lots of food. And I am glad.
Maybe the recklessness of the bachelor parties is a last hurrah of sorts. In just days, the prospective groom is taking on a huge responsibility-that of husband, and often eventually of fatherhood too. He will never be this responsibility free again. It is a good step, but it is a huge step.
So while girls choose to do things quite a bit differently-pedicures, dinner, chocolate, chick flicks and nothing potentially maiming...I guess I shouldn't make a call for the women of the world to unite-against Bachelor parties.=) Let them have their fun, pray for their safety, and be thankful.

Because my Tarzan always ends up back with his Jane.