#yourtribenotmine

Tonight is the last post of June. I missed a day that I didn't make up while I was on a mini vacation, but I can live with that. I had a shit ton more things I wanted to write about this month, but I procrastinate. The clock tells me it's 3:03 am, so I'll just share a brief snippet of conversation from karaoke this past Wednesday.

I went to karaoke with my friend The Professor. Neither of us had been in a while, and we spent more time catching up than we did listening to people over-sing on the stage. A note about karaoke: Your friends won't tell you when you suck. Neither will strangers. Nobody gives a fuck.

So a couple of drunk barsexuals were trying to make out and stand up at the same time with limited success right behind me. They kept falling into the back of my chair. I told The Professor I hoped they would end the show they were putting on soon, before they spilled my cider.

He agreed, and then he said, "Going back to that conversation about whether men should complain about how they suffer the same issues as women, you know two men would not be able to do that in this bar tonight."

"I'm sure you're right," I agreed. "Probably wouldn't be safe."

He raised his eyebrows and nodded, as if he'd found a loophole.

"However," I said, "that's not because women would get upset with them. It's because men would get pissed off. That's not our problem either. That's on your tribe."

"Touche," he said. "You're right." We both laughed.

He didn't say anything else about it, and I was grateful. So-called acts of sexism directed at men by men really isn't sexism. It might be called bullying or assault or simply intolerance, but it's not sexism.

The end. I deleted everything else I had to say about it, because those who get it are already singing in the choir, and those who don't get it, won't hear the message anyway.