From the Treetop

Technical Women and Odd Ducks

I keep promising myself that I will blog whatever thoughts happen to be running through my head when I sit down at my keyboard. If I'm going to keep that promise, I guess I'll have to stop reading other blogs.

Instead of writing about my father or why I intensely dislike George W. Bush, I find my self drawn into the discussion of "girlism" that is taking place on several blogs.

Shelley/Burningbird asks, "Is this difference a product of our genes? Is there a 'tweak' gene that boys have and girls don't?"

I seemed to have inherited one of those "tweak" genes. I'm not sure where I got it from. Neither of my parents was much of a tinkerer - unless you count the model railroad that my father built. As I recall, that involved more putting things together, than taking them apart.

As far back as I can remember, I've always wanted to know how things worked. My usual victims were clocks. Clocks were fairly simple to take apart. Putting them back together was always a challenge, though. I always ended up with parts left over.

I remember a music box my father had that had a glass top so you could see inside. That music box fascinated me because I could see how it worked. I never got to take it apart though. I knew where the lines were drawn - for the most part.

While I was somewhat fascinated with what made cars run, I never got into auto mechanics. Cars were dirty and smelled. I preferred taking things apart that wouldn't get my hands dirty. I guess that was the girl in me making it's presence known.

I've always been an odd duck. I never quite fit in with other girls. I seemed to be more comfortable with the boys. Most of my friends were boys - and yet I wasn't one of them either. I never really learned all the flirty things other girls did, and I think that's why I earned a certain respect from the boys I hung out with.

In some ways that was a disadvantage, because I never had boys lining up to date me, but I had enough to keep me from being a total wall flower. I had their respect and somehow that was more important to me.

Throughout the rest of my life, I've always taken a certain measure of pride in the possession of that respect. Sometimes getting it was a bit of a challenge. My last job was in the heating and air conditioning field. As a customer service rep, I made a significant effort to learn the product and how it worked - with the exception of the electrical wiring. No matter how hard I try, I simply can't get the whole concept of electricity. But I was a whiz at the mechanical stuff. I could take customers through the whole process and in plain English, to boot!

After I had done one of these spiels, I once had a customer tell me, "Wow - you're pretty technical. I bet you're good with a hammer!" What one had to do with the other, I have no idea.

Yet through it all, I still had the occasional customer who insisted on having one of the men explain the whole thing, exactly the way I did. They accepted what he said, but didn't accept my advice. That brought the whole gender thing home and made me angry. But as much as I would rant and rage against it, I knew I couldn't do anything about it. Some men simply do not get it. They don't have the vision. I suspect these are the same men who fall for the short-skirted, sexy "girlism" ploy.

If I got something that way (if I were so inclined, but I'm not), I wouldn't have the respect and that's the key for me. So using the "girlism" tricks aren't for me and I don't think I have any of those tricks in my arsenal.

Besides - I'm too old for that nonsense.

Posted by Cyberkat at November 29, 2002 9:01 AM