Profile for John DeVore

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Mind Of Man: The Best Part Of Breaking Up

The best part of a breakup is wallowing. There are five stages immediately following a breakup, and they aren’t denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. They are as follows: shock, blubbering, wallowing, staring blankly at walls, and finally, dancing. The final stage is usually preceded by a music montage featuring upbeat adult contemporary music, a shopping spree, and a night out with your best slutty friend. But of all these stages, the one I enjoy the most is wallowing. It’s the best part of breaking up or getting dumped, because there is no such thing as a “mutual breakup.” That concept is strictly for the press. One party always wants the breakup a little more than the other party. Not that I’m advocating dramatic split-ups that resemble NASCAR fireballs. But one person is always left sniffing a forgotten, leftover sleeping shirt, searching for a whiff of their lover’s familiar funk. The wishbone never cracks completely in two. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: I Don’t Totally Despise “Sex And The City”

“Sex and the City” is female wish fulfillment. But then again, “Iron Man” is male wish fulfillment. Women wish they could wear haute couture; men wish they could wear a flying robot suit. But such daydreams are just the candy shell of the Blow Pop. The bubblegum at the center isn’t that different from many of my favorite manly movies and television shows. The evil Emperor called Luke Skywalker’s faith in his friends his greatest weakness. But it was Skywalker’s greatest strength; the “Star Wars” movies are about friendships, loyalties, fighting monsters with people who will watch your back no matter what. Likewise, “Sex and the City” is a big wish: that we are not alone in our life’s adventure. You can’t choose your family. Romantic love is fleeting. Friends are forever. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: Why Men Cry

Men don’t cry. We squint. Boys might be made out of snips and snails and puppy dog tails, but men are made out of leather and steel and “Hungry Man” meals. Kick us in the baby wallet and we might keel over. Let forth a grizzly’s roar. But cry? Men have three basic emotions: The Wave, Hulk, and whiskey. Our hearts are fist-sized beer kegs. Tears are just cowardly beads of sweat too scared to jump off our brow when sawing wood.

I’ve heard tales of some men who’ve cried when laid off. Which is nowhere in the man manual. When laid off, a man makes eye contact, shakes hands, and then calmly walks to bar where he plots revenge.

When a woman does us wrong, do we weep? Ha! We turn up AC/DC. Pull the curtains. Turn off the lights. Stand in the shower with our clothes on. Oh, did you think we got misty when you laid us off from the love factory? Well, you were completely right. Women have two tear glands: one to keep their peepers moist, the other to flood whenever Nicholas Sparks gives someone cancer. Our eyes were misting because that’s how they work, like automatic sprinklers on a golf course. That’s how we keep the ol’ skull cams lubricated in their sockets. When I buried my first dog, I bravely bid little Falkor good journey to Valhalla, the Viking afterlife. The last time I went to the optometrist, I sucked the medicinal eye droplets that were rolling down my cheeks back up into my face. I am that disciplined.

But as always, when it comes to platitudinous declarations, there are exceptions.

I’ve heard tales of some men who’ve cried when laid off. Which is nowhere in the man manual. When laid off, a man makes eye contact, shakes hands, and then calmly walks to bar where he plots revenge.

I suppose some cry at movies like “Rudy,” or “Braveheart,” or any of the “Friday the 13th” movies. Those dope-smoking camp sluts killed Jason’s mommy! I remember watching that scene in “The Empire Strikes Back” when Han Solo bravely prepares himself to be carbon frozen. My right eye twitched. It’s theoretically possible that men cry listening to country music, but dive bars are dark for a reason and no one can see you in your pick-up truck, the window rolled down and the night air whipping past your face. There are dogs worth crying over, I suppose. Living proof that licks are the real language of love.

Did I mention there are aberrations to my theory? At least personally? I didn’t? Maybe I’ve cried. I can’t remember if I’ve written about instances where such an improbable, but not impossible, event occurred. I don’t actually know how to read, so I can’t really tell you. Okay. So. Here it goes. I didn’t exactly cry when my father died. I snuck into the ICU and touched his cold foot and then I politely removed my skin and wrung it dry. And I’ve wept for a very simple reason. Because I wasn’t the man I wanted to be. A good man. An honest man. A man who didn’t keep his promises. Only the future cares about apologies.

A man who failed to cradle a loved one’s heart as if it were a football made of glass. Who is forced to keep the company of wreckage. Whose regret turns his bones to ice. A man sobbing softly because the road before him is long, dark, lonely, and there’s no turning back. The fire was set, and his words can’t extinguish them. But he sobs because he’s afraid that deep down, he never will be that man his father told him to be. I have been that man. Those tears will never be shed again. I can still feel their scars on my eyelids.

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Mind Of Man: To Text Or Not To Text

As a man, I like to get to the point. Which is why there are only three acceptable texts a person can send or receive, and those three texts are “I am late,” “Where are you?” and “Do you need beer?” A cell phone is a communication tool. It relays important information. They are not toys. Do you think Captain Kirk ever sent Spock a message on his communicator that read, “How r u? : – )” No. Exploring strange new worlds is serious business. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: The Words Mom Wants To Hear

The most important words a son can learn are “everything is fine, mom.” Which isn’t a lie. It’s more of a wish dressed up like the truth. No different, really, than a mother looking down at her chubby son looking up at her through swimming goggles, a towel tied around his neck, and asking if he could one day be a superhero. Was it possible? Did he have her permission? And her saying, “Yes, yes, and yes.” You know those stories about a mother lifting a car to save her child? Such displays of super-strength aren’t that rare. Most mothers carry their hopes and fears for their children on their backs, stooping over from that terrible treasure’s weight. Atlas had it easy. A man should aspire to relieve her of this burden from time to time. Laid off? Heartbroken? Monsters under the bed? Everything is fine. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: Dudes Don’t Gossip. End of Story.

Men don’t gossip. Talking behind someone’s back is just not sporting. We debrief one another, if there’s important operational information that might be mission critical, i.e., “Dan has more beer at his place” or “That woman you’re drooling over is dating Bill.” Instead of whispering in the shadows, men have their own social ritual called “ball breaking,” where we talk behind each other’s backs to each other’s faces. This is a way of resolving disputes and maintaining the social order. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: One Reason Dating Doesn’t Suck

That first kiss is a cupcake-shaped grenade that explodes into springtime rain. As a man, it’s more important than the best seats in the stadium, that huge job promotion, or the first time your father calls you for advice. It is a prelude to all the best things in life: waking up to an empty bed and smelling toaster waffles, that conversation where you swear to always love her and she tells you the same, the pile of limbs and laughter following the spectacular failure of an exotic sex position. Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: The End Of Dating

I am canceling dating. That’s right. The public negotiation for sex, commitment, and marriage between two strangers that begins with “Do you want to go out Friday night?” is now officially over. Kaput. Adios!

It’s too much drama. Stress. Money. It’s nothing but awkward conversations, uncomfortable clothes, and mediocre Thai meals. Nobody seems to enjoy it anymore. Women are bitterly disappointed by the whole process. Men are apathetic towards it. It’s a broken system where no one gets what they want. It’s all push and no give. Women talk about dating the way they’d talk about a root canal. Men don’t even talk about it. In fact, my gender has pretty much already canceled dating – referring to it, instead, as “hanging out.”

What’s the point? Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: Be A Man With A Plan

When it comes to dating, men should make the plans. I think this would solve a lot of dating drama. Men have a natural knack for making plans, be them Death Star attack strategies, bank heists, or prison breakouts. But I’m not here to reinforce gender norms, much. I’m just making a decision that I think will benefit everyone. Men should make bold, creative, and romantic plans. In return, women should have fun. Because dating is fun. What did I write? Yes: dating is fun. It’s giggles and burping butterflies, and like any adventure it can end with a daring escape from a troll. Fun! Sometimes women make their dating lives sound like “The Passion of The Christ.” Keep reading »

Mind Of Man: In Defense Of Jesse James

Well, this is going to make me popular. Ladies, gentlemen, and hatebots of the jury, I stand before you to defend a humble motorcycle mechanic who made some very poor life choices. Jesse James committed adultery, and betrayed the trust of his betrothed, a wealthy woman who cares for his child from another marriage. The knowledge that such a union has been threatened, if not wholly wasted, is punishment enough. But no, this man must suffer death by a thousand bitchy little internet comments. Keep reading »

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