That Mars-Venus Thing

I do not understand the Venus thing.  I always thought women were from Saturn.  Saturn is a beautiful planet surrounded by pretty rings.

I don’t get the Mars thing, either.  Mars is red and nasty.  Pluto, on the other hand, is quite distant and cold, and it’s cute.  Okay, it is not technically a planet, but that’s what they called it when I was a kid, and I would say this is a much more likely place than Mars, as the origin of the male Homo sapien sapien.

But of course, neither is our origin.  Our genetic existence traces back to Africa, our original home, the home of our ancestors.  Funny, to think that we started out swinging from trees and ended up wallowing in the mud.  Perhaps we crossed with an archaic form of pig along the way.

There are some cynical women who would say that it’s the males of our species who were the likely result of a union with pigs. 

Then there are equally cynical males who might suggest that women might have been the result of a union with peacocks.

At any rate, neither would explain why there is a perception that men find an emotional connection to the Guitar Solo, while women are left cold.  Why is this the case?  Is there truth to this rumor?  Does the Y chromosome create the seventh (or thirteenth, depending on whether you are listening to Eric Clapton or Jimmy Paige)  string, the cord to the heart, vibrating when the right sequence of chords struck? 

If so, this would be a great bit of knowledge for many women who are quite puzzled as to how men tick.  Hand her a guitar, teach her the tunes from Blow by Blow and bam!  snag a mate!

When my husband talks of the music, he usually starts with the guitar.  When I talk of the music, I am starting with the lyrics or the band.  I hear differently than he; he separates the parts into their components, then merges them again.  I have to hear the complexity first, before I can dissect it.  We are both musicians, and yet we approach the music from completely different perspectives.  Yes, I am bored by lengthy guitar (or drum, or bass, or keyboard) solos; they are taking time away from the cool synthesis of sound that defines the band.  My dearest, however, possesses the gift of appreciating both the solo and the band, and it’s something that though I can never really understand, I admire all the same.


2 responses

  1. The guitar solos… give me a bloody big headache. I dont get them either! And why is it that men tend to like music that is so downbeat and full of dispair? Sheesh.

  2. Your comment reminded me of a friend who once told me that he needed to be careful about what he watched on television or read, because he could get his head filled with all sorts of depressing and unconstructive things. I suppose the same could be true for music. Perhaps it depends on what you need to get out of the experience.

    When I was a kid, there was a phrase: garbage in, garbage out.

    As a programmer, there is a phrase: garbage in, garbage out.

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