It has, once again, been an interesting night.
A friend of the friends I am staying with had a party to celebrate becoming an American. The amusing part of that is that she was born to American parents and has lived most of her 40 years of life in the U.S.A. but her mother gave birth in Canada. The required paperwork was never filed and it took some time and a lot of bureaucratic bullshit for her to gain citizenship to her own country. The event was celebrated with alcohol, bad renditions of both "O Canada" and "The Star Spangled Banner" and a fortunately timed fireworks display.
The new American's husband rides in the same Harley Owners Group as my hosts so there were a few bikes and a few more bikers present. (Don't tell anyone, but sometimes bikers drive.)
One of the reasons I love being an outsider is that, by not belonging, I can hang out most places. I began the evening in the garage with the ladies and was amused when JD came in to refresh his drink and objected to the women discussing leg hair, waxing and other nasty female thangs that he preferred not to hear about.
I later joined the boys by the bikes, and got to hear about prostate exams, cytoscopies, how acid reflux can develop into cancer and other male health concerns I'd never previously thought about. I did wonder, while hearing the joys (?!?) of a cytoscopy, just why leg hair would make a "Man of a Certain Age" cringe. (I also suggested, when told how much it cost for a prostate exam, certain places where one might get paid to allow a similar procedure.)
I'm not sure where I stand on the Mars and Venus issue, but have never doubted that males and females are different, and celebrate the differences. And I thank my male friends for allowing me to observe them in their natural habitat occasionally.
Tomorrow: I'll be riding to Hell and back.