All Men Are Scum...

My dad had a rather unsettling (and unflattering) habit of dividing people into two basic groups:  they were either "Salt of the earth", or "Scum of the earth". The latter group far exceeded the former, although the two groups could be somewhat fluid; any guy I was dating fell into the "scum" category until he was history. Then, he was somehow inexplicably promoted to the first, it seemed, when Dad would wistfully ask, "Whatever happened to that _____boy?"

 

When my own daughters began to have interactions with young males who would disappoint/hurt/betray them, my attempts to comfort/reassure/educate them found me ultimately using a word or two that suggested these "creatures" were less than honorable; possibly even a lower life-form. I might even have used the word "scum" once or twice. I may also have suggested, should their deeds be especially grievous, that death would be a reasonable punishment.

 

After a few seasons of first Amy, and then Molly, learning to negotiate said relationships, including lessons on "managing expectations" (read that, "not be totally devastated by some stupid stunt or other"), a "Family Motto" evolved. In it's final, most concise form it professed,  "All men are scum and deserve to die". It wasn't formulated all at once, but evolved, and it wasn't spoken the first time in a fit of rage or with anyone holding an object that if swung or hurled would possibly cause bodily harm.

 

We were sitting at the dinner table one night, the four of us, when Molly recounted something some bone-headed junior high boy had done that left her feeling less than great about herself and, apparently, disenchanted with the entirety of the male population. I am not exactly sure what I was intending to convey to her as I looked across the table, but she held my gaze, sighed and said with sadness and resignation, "I know...all men are scum."  A heartbeat later Amy continued, "And deserve to die." "The Motto" was born.

 

Suddenly, remembering that we were in the company of one who sported the "y" chromosome and might possibly take offense at this declaration, Molly quickly added, "Except for OUR daddy!"  "No", Paul began a few long seconds later, "I'm scum, too." Without leaving our seats, we three females were mentally hugging his neck and smothering him with kisses, I am certain. Probably every trespass/disappointment/thoughtless act he had ever visited upon any of us was instantly forgotten.

 

Yes, our "motto" is a harsh/cruel/outlandish over-generalization. Yet we make no apologies. It is a reminder of one of those serendipitous moments when a bond is forged, a relationship is strengthened, a memory is made. So we will continue to say it, albeit tongue-in-cheek, because we are too fond of the warm-fuzzy that accompanies it's utterance to abandon it, lest we offend. In fact, I have actually been know to try to justify it to some who would take exception by remarking, that this is, after all, a scriptural truth:  "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God".  (A rather loose interpretation, granted, but I think a case can be made....)

A few of my friends are fond of collecting what they call "Debby-isms" and this one is right at the top of their list. (Right behind it is "I know what sex, drugs and alcohol all smell like. Don't come home smelling liking any of them."  But that's a blog for another day....) I cringe when I hear them spouting this particular one to  others and usually want to jump in to do "damage control"; obviously it doesn't evoke in others the same warm feeling  that it does for us. Yet, on the upside,  it  give me the chance to "remember out loud" one of my favorite stories...