Unapologetic Manhood: Part 1--Not Cooking

Hello, consumed readers. I have long abandoned you, and I am penitent. I have been lost in the pleasurable waters of spring break and have not been able to post. I have emerged, however, and now I am ready and excited about the newest series to occupy four minutes of your daily reading time: "Unapologetic Manhood." In this series, I'm going to give a few aspects of manhood that I embrace and feel no need to apologize for. It's a slightly tongue-in-cheek series, but it is nonetheless serious. Hope you enjoy it.

Much is made of the propensity of many twentysomething American males to avoid cooking at any cost. Being in this category, I can say that much is made of the avoidance of cooking, and much of it is made in my direction. From a variety of females, some of whom occupy special places in my heart, I've received exhortation to cook. One female, particularly close to my heart (hi mom), has carried on a six-year campaign to get me to cook. Sadly, to this day, the campaign has fared worse than a New York Yankees fan civilizing program. I don't have exact statistics at this point (consumed interns are working diligently, I assure you), but I'm thinking that I have cooked less than five meals in this period. Such numbers rival the productivity of Russian officials and their five-year plans. I must say, though, as characters they are entirely less sympathetic than my wonderful mother.

Now, by "cook" I'm meaning full-scale preparation, with recipe consultation, ingredient purchasing, meal preparation, and consumption of said meal. Five meals. This figure, so humble, speaks to two things: 1) My poor mother's extreme frustration, and 2) My studied, steadfast resistance to any sort of cooking. In fact, now that I think about, I'm almost impressed with myself. Five meals! Any guesses on how many chicken breasts, how many fresh veggies, how many fillets were passed over in this period? Any guesses on how many frozen pizzas were purchased, how many chicken nuggets felt the oppressive heat of a creaky 400 degree oven? These are the statistics of a stubborn man. Nay. This is too weak. These are the statistics of an unapologetic manhood. Tomorrow, we'll look more at what fuels the extreme stubbornness of the twentysomething male.