Ola to all my friends and family,
Here’s a pleasant story written by dad during one of his many reflective moments. He was pretty good at expressing ‘self-reflection’ mostly when he wanted to get a point across. This story is also particularly personal to me as the volleyball player, Nikki, is my daughter. And she is very beautiful. Nikki is getting married to a wonderful man, Jeremy Risden, this year and I’m sure the marriage will be as beautiful and fruitful as Jennifer and Jacob Huffman’s . . . My other beautiful daughter . . .
I have to admit to a bit of anxiety about the recent news of women speaking up about abuse in the workplace and sexual harassment. I am not exactly the most politically correct person on the planet. I like to tease my friends, many of whom are women. I like to say that it’s spelled “sexual ‘her’assment. I also joke with my boss by saying “Thank you, ‘babe’ . . . I mean boss!” She will then, pretty much tell me where to ‘put it’. I think I learned this teasing behavior from dad, by the way.
Just to be clear: Sexual harassment and workplace harassment should not be tolerated, ever! Anywhere! The women speaking out for themselves and others are awesome. It’s shocking to hear about all the men who abused their stature to hold women back or keep them ‘in-line’. This amounts to something very close to sexual slavery!
What worries me is that some people will turn a good-natured tease into something evil. I now find myself being very quiet at work meetings and pretty much speaking very carefully with women, in general. It has made me very uncomfortable around women. Including women I think I know well.
Is teasing a friend, wrong? What do you think?
Back to the story: I think I inherited dad’s tendency for tear-shedding along with teasing . . .
The star of this story: Nikki Tschirhart_Volleyball Star
Thanks for reading,
Love to all my friends and family,
David T
p.s. Don’t forget you can write comments, good or negative, in the “Leave a Reply” Section at the end of the story (all comments are welcome)
“Men Shed Tears, Too”
By Don Tschirhart
Excerpted from the unpublished book “It’s a Wonderful World II: A Retired Reporter Looks At Life“
Men Shed Tears, Too
I shed a tear the other night. I know. Big strong guys like me aren’t suppose to cry.
My tears were of love, joy and thanksgiving. I had just watched my pretty granddaughter play her heart out as a member of the Holly High School volleyball team that defeated Lapeer West in the Panther’s gym.
Margie and I don’t get to see Nikki play very often and this is her senior year. Holly is way over in western Oakland County.
It was grand to see her block and slam and work with her teammates to win two straight games after losing the first.
No matter the score I watched a good group of young women on both sides of the net play their very best diving for the ball, reaching high to block shots and winding up to slam the ball at their opponent.
It was a game of “kill or be killed.” On the court these young ladies were not going to be . . . well . . . ladylike in their intense play. They were just as much “jocks” as male football or basketball players.
But afterwards both teams lined up to shake hands. The fight was over. Long live the winner.
The young women aren’t just good athletes. They are entertaining. Unfortunately, their hard work is not always appreciated. There were few fans to enjoy this very difficult sport of volleyball the other night. Most of them were parents, boy and girl friends and grandparents like us.
The best part was Nikki walking over to me after the game and giving me a hug and kiss on my bearded cheek.
It wasn’t the first and won’t be the last time I feel a tug in my chest that finally erupts in weepy eyes.
I get it when I hear the Star Spangled Banner at football games and watch thousands of people around me with their hats or hands over their hearts, recognizing they are citizens of the world’s greatest and most envied country.
Even when our congregation sings God Bless America every Sunday after Mass I feel that heart tug.
Maybe I’m just an old-fashioned smoothy who is soft in the head. But I think a lot of guys are like me and don’t talk about it.
But me? I’m an old tattle-tale and have a column to tell the world. And occasionally I don’t mind talking about my emotions.
I don’t think I have ever told anyone, but I shed a couple of tears at our wedding more than half a century ago. I couldn’t believe I had married such a nice girl . . . and very pretty girl, too.
Tears flowed when each of my six boys were born (no daughters unfortunately) and even more when my grandkids entered the world. When I was told about the birth of our first great-grandchild, I took a walk and gushed. A week later when I held him at my son’s home in Gloucester, Va., I was as proud as a peacock. Here was the first son of our first grandson of our first son. Benjamin has many firsts to live up to in his life.
A little secret we men keep from women-folk: We are softer than they think.
If someone important to us dies, we get unglued. We may break down when thinking of things shared with the loved one. Tears bubble in my eyes at funerals even when the dead person is not a close friend. I feel sorry for the relatives.
Most older guys won’t tell you, but I’m sure they also shed a few tears when their kids are born, baptized or repeat wedding vows.
Men are a lot more emotional than they are given credit for. They really are a bunch of sissies, but would rather keep that a secret.
