All of the political, fictional, media, and societal forces in this country fantasizes this generation of men from the era. They were tough, stoic, built skyscrapers, fought and died in wars, dressed in suits, and they did things their own way. I always have an image of Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack in my head of this type of man. Candace Owens’ “Bring back manly man” tweet on a photo of Harry Styles in a dress underscores the society’s mourning the loss of masculine men.

I never met my grandfather but from all the stories I’ve heard of him he was the typical man of his era. Grew up in the 30s, was a junkman, joined the Army, worked a union trade job, came home from work and read his newspaper. He didn’t make dinner (except for grilling steaks with his bare hands). He physically fought my grandma and engaged corporal punishment with my uncles and aunt. My mom says she was scared of him for a long time. He never traveled or did anything with his children. Essentially, he worked and came home and didn’t do any domestic activities. You look at photos of him and he looked like a good looking Italian guy in a Martin Scorsese movie. A “man’s man”.

Learning about his bad tendencies and at first its hard to see a tragedy. The tragedy is near the end of his life he expressed regret and remorse. His life under capitalism and patriarchal norms crushed his soul. It was only around his old age and after his retirement when he started to mellow out and become something more. The last time he talked to my uncle he told him “I’m sorry for not being there and talking to you.” He loved to visit my mom and dad and my mom said she loved to talk to him even though she was previously scared of him. He traveled to Hawaii the year before he died and he absolutely loved it. When they got back he asked my grandma “when’s the next trip?” When he was older, every day he walked their cat on a leash. Even with all of their troubles throughout their marriage, my granparents loved each other. On their last day together they made love, he told my grandma he loved her, and he went to bet on the horses.

He also hated some aspects of his society. He hated suits, hated the Army and was dishonorably discharged for refusing an order, and he hated Reagan and trickle down economics. Underneath his manly exterior there was something more there and his remorse at not being a better person showed toward the end of his life. It was only after he wasn’t being crushed by a manual labor job and living just with my grandma was he able to start to explore the world and open up to his kids. So when I think of him now I see him as a victim of Capitalism and patriarchal norms of our society.

I don’t know, this is kinda a rough draft of my thoughts about someone I never met but wish I could have.