No, It's Not the Apocalypse--the Buckeyes are Playing or What Every Ohio Woman Knows

Part One (as I am aware that tomorrow is Game Day)

As of late social scientists, anthropologists, psychologists and the woman who wrote that ballsy article for The Atlantic in July called “The End of Men” have recently begun to speculate what the world would look like if there were no men.

Well, I’ve got news for you, sweethearts: you are—so to speak--a bit late to the game.

Any female living in Ohio, myself included, has been witnessing this sudden—if temporary—disappearance of men every autumn Saturday since the day we were born. Officially, the weekly phenomenon is called “The Buckeyes are Playing.” This, interestingly enough, is also a handy phrase that can explain away all sort of otherwise inexplicable activity and unacceptable behavior among carriers of the Y chromosome.*

I am aware that women who are not natives of Ohio may think I am exaggerating or writing in jest. Their naïveté only leads to pointless anxiety.

Case in point:

Frantic text from non-indoctrinated woman (an East Coast native who at the time was dating my brother**) on what she perceived to be an idle Saturday afternoon: “OMG,M! Have you heard from your brother? Is he OK? Is he dead? I haven’t heard from him in like three hours and he hasn’t returned any of my 15 phone calls.”

Calm, if somewhat condescending, text from me: “GF, the Buckeyes are playing.”

Final frantic text from same non-indoctrinated woman to my brother after the fifteen phone calls: “WTF?”

Calm, if somewhat condescending, text from my brother: “GF, the Buckeyes are playing.”

It should be noted here as well for the non-indoctrinated woman that close cousins to the response “The Buckeyes are playing” include “The Buckeyes lost,” as in “GF, why is your living room wall punched in?” or “Why did I see Andy standing on the bridge alone crying hysterically Sunday morning?” and “The Buckeyes Won,” as in “Wow, GF, so you’re telling me that Andy just woke up this morning, went out and bought you a new car filled with 24 dozen roses?” or “GF, was I imagining things or was that Andy passing out chocolate bars and free beer in Ohio City last Sunday morning?”

Take home lesson: Sunday behavior among Ohio boys is determined by Saturday’s final score. As someone wiser in this matter, I suggest to women everywhere who are dating or married to Ohio boys that if the Buckeyes lose, just bake your man brownies (No peanut butter in the batter! No need to rub it in his face!--I'll explain in next post) and don’t take his bridge strolling too seriously (there are after all, only six more days until possible redemption at this point). If Ohio State wins, on the other hand, the following Sunday would be the time to tell him that after much thought you think the eggshell white he used to paint the entire interior of the house last week is maybe just a tad not white enough and you’d really like to see it---pleeeeease, baby--redone in porcelain white.

*as near to impossible as I find this to understand, some Ohio women I know seem to disappear and otherwise act strangely during football season as well. When confronted, they initially exhibit symptoms of the nonchalant and somewhat defeatist "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" mentality. It quickly becomes apparent though that faking interest in OSU sports is a slippery slope. Within weeks, women who were once perfectly sensible have been seen sporting red mesh football jerseys and spouting off statistics with a thoroughness formerly reserved for counting carbs.

**I have witnessed my brother's fanaticism first hand on many occasions. He is part of an elite sect which takes vows of week-long silence following a loss.

The Lake: A Cautionary Tale for Boys Everywhere

Continued...

As I was saying in my last post, I'm going to help the boys out again by relaying a story I heard from an undisclosed, yet reliable--I assure you--source.

I can vouch personally for the fact that if an Ohio boy takes you on a boat, you're going to be returned to land in pretty much the same condition as when you first pushed off. However, the same cannot be said for the unfortunate Ohio boy who is taken to the Lake* by an Ohio Girl.

So boys, should an Ohio girl pull into your driveway one bright and early morning and quite officiously inform your father who is innocently picking up the Sunday paper that she is taking you to the lake, remember that where this story is going is downhill. In fact there is evidence that these occurrences are two of several warning signs.

Others may include but are not limited to the even vaguest of vague notions that you have somehow made her angry the night before and that she is still in her pajamas, her hair is in a bun, and she is wearing no makeup. Why should her physical appearance tip you off? Because, you see, she is making a sartorial point: taking you to the Lake has NOTHING to do with her and EVERYTHING to do with you.

And even if you aren't the brightest bulb in the box and you receive a text message in all capital letters from a girl in your driveway telling you to GET DRESSED OR NOT WHATEVER because YOU ARE GETTING OUT OF BED AND COMING DOWNSTAIRS AND GOING TO THE LAKE, at the very least recall the mobster movies of your not so distant youth--nothing good ever came from some poor chap being escorted to the Lake. In other words, things are not going to shake out well for you,Russo.

Now should you--despite the obvious aforementioned red flags--still find yourself in the car on the way to the Lake one bright and early morning, there are still opportunities for you to realize that you, son, are not on your way to a picnic:

1. There is--now that you're looking--a conspicuous absence of a picnic basket or anything that resembles or could serve as a picnic basket.

2. There is a very large empty coffee mug next to the Ohio girl. This should be reliably read as she's caffeinated and ready and, well, you're not.

3. Despite her proximity, she is still texting you in all capital letters and ever so slowly that vaguest of vague notions that you may have somehow made her angry the night before is becoming increasingly, nauseatingly less vague with every 75 mile per hour minute that passes.

4. She pulls a bottle of your favorite whisky out of her purse and tells you to drink up. Hellooooooooooo.....this is NOT an early morning toast to your overall wonderfulness, nor should it be misinterpreted as a final act of affection. Or mercy. In fact, in certain circles, this act will later be called "criminal intent**."

*I've capitalized "Lake," so that it may serve as an Everylake. Ohio is blessed or cursed--depending on what side of the car you're sitting on--with a plethora of lakes.

**I don't want to mislead you here in anyway. The Ohio girl has no intention of physically hurting you when she drives you to the Lake. She's after a very specific brand of mental alteration that begins with her telling you to get out of the car and saying calmly but pointedly: now talk. You see, she wants answers; she wants explanations for your bad behavior. And, it is in this way that she will have you wishing you had woke up to a horse head in your bed that morning rather than her in your driveway. :)