By Martin Anton Smith
So today I was doing a manly manly thing.
I was working with on a bathroom renovation.
And in these situations you must make the most of it.
When you pull off a sheet of Gib aka Dry Wall – you roar like an angry lion.
When you pull off a noggin – you roar.
When you pull out a tack – you roar.
When you sweep up some construction dust – you roar.
These are the pathetic things us men now have to do.
It makes us for a split second think that we haven’t lost our masculinity entirely.
And so when the days work was done – I figured I’d keep the theme going.
I decided I’d go have a ‘miners bath’ – that is to jump into n the river with a bar of soap.
So I walked my 300 meters to the mighty blue river.
I jumped in with all my clothes on – even a old timer wide brim hat.
The soap was in the pocket, out it came & I washed my hair and then a quick once over the rest.
It was just what the old gold miners did in ‘thems old days’.
Back when masculinity wasn’t a dirty word – it was a requirement of all men.
I was almost in the same bathwater from the miners of 1860 to 1890.
The water was quite warm & then my big bar of soap fell out & sank on the bottom.
I bet this was also an old miners tradition – to lose your soap in the river.
My nostalgia was ruined when a guy came along talked to me & then made a cell phone call while he was knee deep.
I will definitely be taking more ‘miners baths’ in the future.
it affords a simple pleasure in a time without much simplicity or genuine pleasure.
These things stave off the spectre of domestic insanity at least until the next day.
I could have “roared” when I was in the water, but then that would have been sophomore-ish at best.
I simply got out & said to the guy “don’t drop your phone”.
Ahh miners bath is a thing a beauty.
I walked back home with the gait & energy of a seargeant major from a real army.
Yes readers, my Masculinity was internally roaring along like a Baritone Beast, a Harley Davidson.
But then perhaps I should shut up – else everyone will be having ‘miners baths’.
And forever ruin my slim to none chances of grabbing some pure solitude.
But then Ned Kelly was right – “such is life”.
We’re not here to ‘win’.
A true masculine man will know this innately.
And now that word, like the modern man himself – has lost all meaning.
Thank God I’m here to write about it all!
Tomorrow I could search for the bar of soap at the bottom of the river.
But why would I?
It’s either lost forever, far too soft or will have entirely disintegrated into its watery surroundings.
Just like Men have.
Anton Martin Smith Writer 