Back to NoVA this weekend for A's b-day—an act known, according to the Evite, as "manning up". Oh, but don't be fooled: Manning-up (as best I understand it) is not a one-time commitment which establishes proof of one's honor and virility; it is an ongoing process of answering the challenges of one's most dogged critics (aka "closest friends") lest the world catch a whiff of and raise a sneered nostril at your pathetic unmanliness.
In an effort to squeeze every last drop of value from my aborted attempt to pursue a English lit degree (which, in part, was an aborted attempt to become a rock star), I'll indulge in bending this good-naturedly adolescent morsel of machismo to its metaphorical limits. To begin, I posit that there are two distinct classes of "manning-up", implicit and explicit; that the former is far more frequent; and the latter is far more fulfilling.
Implicit manning-up is the one with which most of us are likely most familiar. It is the practice of constant emotional self-denial which one must maintain when faced with the minor indignities of day-to-day life. It can be something as large as switching career paths, swallowing pride, facing fear, and starting from square one, with all the insecurities and humiliations which come with. It can be something as small and insignificant as having someone cut you off on the sidewalk as if you weren't even there. It can be as public as having a project falter, or as private as swallowing one's feelings and biting one's tongue when a date doesn't work out, or a close friend proves out-of-tune and lets you down.
Explicit manning-up is a veiled expression of deep affection shared amongst close friends, masquerading as threatened humiliation. It's a perverted form of faith in one's fellow (hu)man and a desire to see him (or her) happy and successful, since hard-ass challenges are more socially acceptable than heartfelt encouragement. (Or, at least, they inspire a lot more creativity, which makes the whole relationship more fun.) Had enough to drink? Man-up and have another. Can't go out tonight? Man up and be there for your boys. Can't come to A's party? Man-up and show him some love.
This may be a stretch, but I believe that the secret to happiness in life is striking the right balance between these implicit and explicit forms. Too much implicit manning-up, and you risk becoming isolated, hard, and/or depressed. Not enough, and you remain soft, shapeless, naive. Too much explicit manning-up, and the line between affection and cruelty may become blurry. Not enough, and you risk becoming isolated, hard, and/or depressed.
What it comes down to, I think, is that we're all in this together to help each other man-up. No one can honestly man-up alone.
In conclusion, I think it's high-time those slackers at PCW manned-up and started having opinions again. The world needs to hear them.
