Getting to know all about you

I like women. A lot. I’ve conducted a lifetime’s study of them, in fact. I’ve observed how they move, speak, smell, work, listen, love.

It’s a fascination begun when I was only six, when Mary Marie Wisniewski kissed me on the cheek in one of those cement barrels you used to see on elementary school playgrounds. The ringing of the recess bell cut short that particular study session, but I’ve been going at it full tilt ever since.

So far, the study – conducted over 57 years (and counting) – has included five wives and a large assortment of girlfriends, “just friends,” relationships, ships-which-passed-in-the-night, co-habitations and associations which are either undefinable or unfit for inclusion in a family newspaper.

Like any reputable study, mine also has had a control group: women who didn’t want anything to do with me. This latter group was larger by far, which becomes easier to believe once you get to know me. I studied the control group women, too, in hopes of learning the secrets of what Betty Friedan referred to as “The Feminine Mystique.” And yes, I read Friedan’s book of the same name, which only goes to show how serious my study has been.

Just lately I’ve been going over all my years of careful research, tallying the data, correlating the positives and negatives, the plusses and minuses. And it turns out what I’ve learned about women is this: zilch. Nada. Nothin’.

I still have no idea what makes women tick, why they do what they do, why they say what they say.

Some researchers would say mine has been a wasted life. I’m not so sure. The study, after all, was … well … fun. And continues to be so. Even if I never see any tangible results, I’ll consider it time well spent.

Still, there are some things I would really like to know before I’m too old to care anymore. I’m being serious here, or as serious as I get.

These aren’t “big questions,” just little things that have haunted my mind since that first ephemeral kiss in the cement barrel.

If any female readers care to help me out with this, I would be forever appreciative. The newspaper usually sticks my contact info at the bottom or top of this column, but just in case, you can email me at MTaylor325@gmail.com. That goes straight to me and nobody else will see it, so please, be honest.

Question 1: How the hell do women fold fitted sheets? You know, the ones with the elastic in them that go underneath the person sleeping? The Lovely Mrs. Taylor can fold one of these turkeys in six seconds flat. She’s tried to show me how to do it a dozen times, but it just doesn’t happen. It’s like some inexplicable laundry origami that only women can master.

Question 2: Why must sheets be folded in the first place? Now that I’m living on my own, I just stuff all the sheets of a set into one of the pillowcases and toss ‘em on a shelf until needed. Yes, they are a bit wrinkly when I put them on my bed again, but who’s gonna see them? Hiding the wrinkled sheets is what the comforter is for.

Question 3: And while we’re on the topic of bedding, what’s with all those extra pillows? Mrs. Taylor made sure I had a dozen decorative pillows when I moved into the little lake house. I have to throw them on the floor when I go to bed at night just to return them to the bed the next morning. Why? Another mystery.

Question 4: Why do women so often think they’re fat? I know many attractive women and they all think this. Well, there are a few who think they’re perfect, but frankly, I usually find the personalities of these to be intolerable. At any rate, whatever societal pressures are causing this delusion need to be changed, like yesterday. Mrs. T weighs about 19 pounds and she thinks she’s ready for sumo wrestling classes.

Question 5: Do women understand men any better than we understand you? Do you know what we think? (Actually, if true, this might explain a lot about the problems I’ve had with past relationships.)

Question 6: Does the perfect Valentine’s Day gift exist? I bomb at this every year and I would, just once before I die, like to get it right.

Question 7: Do women really like the movies they show on the Lifetime and Hallmark channels? Or is this just something you make us sit through when you’re angry over a forgotten anniversary?

And I guess that’s it. If I had the answers to even these few questions, I might consider my life’s work worthwhile.

C’mon, help a fella out.