How old does a male human being have to be before he can finally escape the demeaning title of “boy?”
Apparently, no age group is safe.
Even old guys who belong to exclusive groups are derisively labelled as members of old boys’ clubs and apparently there’s no worse group to join than that.
And those of us who were raised on farms are forevermore known as country boys.
Men who drive pickup trucks and love country music are known far and wide as good old boys.
And every time a middle-age Toronto executive says something corny in a meeting, somebody is sure to follow to up, with: “You can take the boy out of the country but you can’t take the country out of the boy.” Chuckle, chuckle.
Of course, when dear old Dad drives in the lane on his new all-terrain vehicle, Mom looks cynically out the kitchen window and remarks: “The bigger the boys, the bigger their toys.”
Why are grown men who play baseball for a living still called the boys of summer? Even by female sportswriters in Toronto?
When men get together with other men for a night on the town,why are they out with the boys and not out with the men?
When a man smirks, why is it a boyish grin, never a mannish one?
If a man looks after herds of cattle for a living, why is he a cowboy instead of a cowman? Why are men and women who offer themselves as sex objects called boytoys? And why is a nation which ships male soldiers to do battle sending its boys off to war?
Why is a woman who gets along great with a group of men just one of the boys? Why is her male companion her boyfriend?
Why are policemen called the boys in blue? Why are male orchestra members known as the boys in the band? Why are The Beach Boys still The Beach Boys when they’re all 40-something?
Could it be that in all these cases the word “boys”, as it is used when referring to men, is used as an indication of affection and not derision? Like other words we use.
Take the word “girls”, for example.
Both words denote youth and vigour and energy and spirit. But both words are on the endangered list while today’s self-empowered language cops are out on patrol, listening to our every utterance, waiting for our tongues to betray us as enemies of The New Order.
All I can say is boy, oh boy. There is time enough for most of us males to be a man. Too little time to be an actual boy.
The language police, whether boys or girls in blue, can come and arrest this good old country boy any time they want.
©1990 Jim Hagarty
