More Tarzans, please!

I coerced my husband into taking me to see the latest rendition of “Tarzan” in movie theaters last week. The classic “me Tarzan, you Jane” love story pulls at our animalistic primal instincts and racks up sales in the box office. I mean, who wouldn’t want an overly-muscled, fabulously sexy man swinging from the trees to save you from whatever?

I read a study on endocrine.org stating how over the past 100 years men have become less manly, hormonally-speaking. One study showed that 1.3 percent less testosterone is being produced by males since 1910. Not to worry — that doesn’t mean our sons are all cupcakes. But it did make me think about evolution and what it really means to be tough.

As a rule, women are generally thought of us as the nicer, softer, gentler sex and men as stinky, rough barbarians. Women, stereotypically, want saving, holding and protecting and men, stereotypically, want to punch, provide and scratch. Luckily, thanks to McDonald’s and Mike Tyson, there isn’t much of a need to spend our days chasing antelope and vying for the survival of the fittest. Sadly, I think Darwin would be disappointed.

As I watched Tarzan race through the forest barefoot and suck on raw eggs, it made me think back to ways we were taught to “get tough” as children. Unless we were in the barn lot, shoes were optional at our house. In the summer, we were sent outside with the adage, “Don’t come back in unless you’re bleeding,” followed by, “Well, that’s just a little blood, suck it up!” You didn’t get Band-Aids unless you were at grandma’s house, and only if she bribed you with cookies long enough to sit still. We ate hot dogs raw, shared Cokes and swapped spit. We went skinny-dipping and got grounded for talking back. Tears were for sissies, even if you were a girl, and sacrilege if you were a boy. Every boy had a pocket knife and carried it to school. Colds were just colds, and doctors were for whatever mama couldn’t fix at home. Nobody did it for us. If we didn’t have it, we found it or we did without. In looking at the soft conveniences and taciturn worries of parents today, it’s no wonder there’s less testosterone. We were tough!

While I appreciate modern society, I miss the days of having to “figure it out.” I miss soothing raw knuckles because you were mad enough to hit a tree and did! No knuckle bruises from to fake-shooting somebody on a video game. I miss riding bikes for miles without having to text mom every 30 minutes. I miss guys having to work for the girl, and the thrill of holding a work-roughened hand on the porch swing.

So as we search for those lessons to leave behind, please spend some time with your kids and grandkids and teach them how to get tough. Particularly when it comes to your boys. Biologically speaking, the human race needs you! With the Caitlyn Jenners of the world, it makes me even more nervous that someday we might meld into a unisex society. Even though I consider myself a gritty, self-sufficient female, for my vote, more Tarzans, please!

Please email me your comments at wborenrn@gmail.com.