The Men Don't Get It

Last Edit November 2, 1998

Fabio turns heads. And hearts. Anytime he shows up.
Women adore him.
Men just don't get it.
They probably never will.
The ones at work laugh that I do a website for Fabio. That I have pictures on the walls of my office - photos stuck in the picture frames holding my kids photos. Photos of me on his knee. In a hug. Hanging on.
They laugh with a question in their eyes. With that for competition, do they stand a chance?
No.
The Tee-shirt I made for the sales conference says it all - Fabio - bare-chested on the front (blown up from the tiny fan club picture - tying on a wetsuit) - bold words on the back
"IF YOU'RE NOT 6'3", BLUE EYED, BLONDE AND ITALIAN...
DON'T BOTHER!"
Clear enough.
My seventeen-year old dragged me into the shop and had me order it.
He doesn't like it that I am going to a sales conference with 875 people - the majority of which are male. He felt I was defenseless. So he made me get the shirt.
Some protective charm. An amulet.
He was protecting his Mom.
It's amazing how often Fabio is used this way.
The men keep asking me, "But, what does he do?"
What does he have to do?
They are bothered.
They have work ethics.
Sort of.
They don't see him slaving in a cubicle, digging ditches or playing phone tag with cranky customers.
They want equal suffering.
But, most of all, they want his secret.
They want to know why, when Fabio steps out on a stage, every woman in the audience becomes clearly focused. Why they press to the stage, to touch him, the hear him, to see better, to get a picture.
A word. A look.
Some can go away happy.
Some of us retire to plot the next event.
The men are momentarily forgotten. They just stand around, slack jawed. Disbelief. Confused.
Even the exotic male dancers serving wine in Little Rock were stunned at the loss of their audience.
Women they were flirting with or even ones they came with, ignore them.
"What's he got?"
The change in a crowd once he appears can be measured.
The emotions can knock you over.
The tension beforehand is muted, controlled. We try not to have seizures before he arrives. Not so after he arrives. It will takes hours to drop that blood pressure.
"But, what does he do?"
Actually, he does a lot of things. He works at being in the movies. He is the driving force behind a new cartoon show for kids under 14, action without violence, a moral or two. An audience that most TV execs forgot. Warner Brothers has bought it. Thor is modeled on Fabio. Has Fabio's voice. Fabio's morals.
Maybe that's a clue.
He works with an author to produce the occasional romance novel - under his name - with him on the cover.
He has a home audio system to make any tekkie drool.
He supports various charities - like Make-A-Wish.
He still does the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter commercials - and we all run out and buy it. Tub, Stick. Spray. Light. Whatever. One of each. Often.
He has a life. He really does.
In the 10 times I've seen him, I've seen him disturbed - very seldom.
Angry - never.
Violent - can't imagine.
Smiling - 95% of the time, unless he is speaking to you. And sometimes even then.
Dimples - yes.
Gentle - yes.
Patient - always.
A sense of humor about it all - always evident.
He is not stuck on himself.
He is not sure himself what causes his reception. He's amused by it.
I've seen him exhausted and still signing photos. He cares about the fans.
Maybe that's the other answer.
We won't be scolded or shouted at or cursed at or ducking blows with this man.
We are not in competition with him for our jobs.
He is self-assured. He knows who he is and is comfortable with it.
He is confident.
He is safe.
He represents what we want all men to be.
A gentle man.
The looks don't hurt.
And the guys don't get it.