A number of years ago for three years running, we would rent a house on the coast after Christmas for a week spanning New Year’s Day, with a group of friends and friend/acquaintances.

The last time we participated, before the week was out there was ‘tension’, and we subsequently opted out for upcoming treks; the report coming back the next year included one couple abruptly leaving mid-week.  Boom.

Part of the tension during our ‘last’ arose from a lady couple of our many years’ acquaintance (friends of friends) bringing lady colleagues from Washington DC, taking a nearby house, but using ours for evening board games.  Loud ones.

One individual amongst the ladies was second in command at the EPA at that time and a major power lesbian.  Her general disdain for gentlemen was — How to put it? — not well-concealed.

What sent me into the recalling of all this was running across Bessie Smith’s ‘Foolish Man Blues’ the other day:

“There’s two things got me puzzled, there’s two things I don’t understand, that’s a mannish-acting woman and a lisping, swishing, womanish-acting man”

(Over time I’ve seen ‘skipping, twisting’ substituted, ‘skipping, hopping’, too.)

Now, as to the aforementioned lady’s alleged disdain for men, I want you to take it on faith that during that week there was no lisping or swishing, no skipping that I am aware of, and absolutely no hopping.  Scout’s honor.

There was traipsing.

Come to think of it, I suppose we were just asking for it.

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