I
thought about Hanuman, who is worshipped in every Hindu temple in India.
Abraham, Mohammed, Buddha, they are all great guys and all, but watching
brother Hans with his rope strapped to his back, I wondered if we, as
the male species - the modern American male, could learn something from
Hanuman. He is the god of agility and dexterity. He is the only bachelor
gentleman god. I thought about the American male; growing fat and pasty;
obsessed with television and watching other men sweat and throw balls
around. Hanuman wouldn't want gossipy brutishness. He believed strongly
in women. He believed that man was a sportsman, and a hunter and that
his job was to serve woman.
Sometimes
at work, the women come to me for advice on their man. They explain a
complicated tale; a densely woven tapestry of regret, sorrow and confusion.
My only advice is this. Think of man as monkey. We are no more complicated
than that. We are simple, we do not think as much as you do. Once you
can see your man as a monkey, you will understand him. I think Hanuman
would agree with me.
Staring
at Monkey Face, my brother pointed out the distance, the places where
our grandfather, an immigrant to America, surveyed the Oregon desert as
a hunter and a fisherman. Where he brought grandmother.
Although
he passed away when I was young, I remember grandfather as that man. The
gentleman hunter. As nighttime took away the last light in Eastern Oregon
and Monkey Face disappeared, I thought about Grandfather, who always served
his woman.
