Toilet Wars

So, after all, should men put the toilet seat down after they are done?

I don’t think so. I sure don’t remember that one from when I was growing up. Chew with my mouth closed? Check. Open the door for the ladies? Check. Give flowers whenever you screw up? Check. Make sure the toilet seat is down? Uh… nope, not really. Granted, I shared a bathroom with two brothers and the only woman in the house, my mom, made sure we kept the hell away from her bathroom, but still... I have absolute no memory of that particular social convention until I started seeing couples argue about it in sitcoms during the Nineties.

I do have a good idea about the origins of this feminine claim, though. The Nineties were a very confusing time for men all around, the politically correct mentality was running rampant and most of us had absolutely no idea what constituted acceptable behavior anymore. Enter the women: they could smell blood on the water, as they always do. They knew no man would dare to raise his voice against any demand, no matter how preposterous, afraid of being labeled a sexist. So they gathered at an undisclosed location, probably a huge shoe store somewhere, for a World Woman Convention and made a list of all the little changes they wanted to see in male-female relationship. Thus, they established that truly sensitive men would sit through The English Patient (nearly 3 hours of a dude slowly dying!). They demanded we started cropping the native flora in our private parts, coining the term Manscaping. And they decided, out of thin air, that the original, immutable and absolutely natural position of the toilet seat was down, and that all men should respect it. We were too terrified to object and soon enough everyone began to take it as true. It was checkmate, Ippon and touché for the ladies in the ole battle of the sexes.

Now, that doesn't mean that most men bother to respect it as a rule - if they did there really wouldn’t be a quarrel - but they don't dispute it either. It became one of those things we do in shame, knowing we are in the wrong, like leaving dirty underwear on the floor, putting that empty bottle back on the fridge or inundating the bathroom whenever we exit the shower. We do it because we can't help it and then we suffer the consequences, using whatever little credit we have in the relationship to pay for those crimes.

But we shouldn't. My fellow men, it is high time we rebel against the tyranny of the toilet. They won’t stop there. Now they have exclusive restrooms on airplanes, which means they can use ours but we can’t use theirs, even though they take twice as much time as we do. Who knows what will be next. We need to make a stand. We should get our own damn restroom on the airplane. I'm keeping the bleeping seat up, and here's why:

The Male Toilet Manifesto

(Al Bundy Style)

I) Men get to pee standing up. It's one of the perks of being a man. Women have multiple orgasms and their own international day. Plus, they can score free drinks in almost any bar on the planet. Men pee standing up. It's our one advantage and I'm not giving it up. It should also be noted that, while some of us might prefer to sit down to conduct their personal business, it is their own choice and in no way it should be construed as a gender-wide forfeiture of this basic prerogative.

II) Peeing from an upright position is not an exact science, accidents do occur. In fact, the worse we need to go, the more prone we are to misfiring. So ladies, trust me, you want us to have a bigger target when we pee. And no, I'm not sitting down (please refer to item I).

III) I agree, the toilet seat is easy to handle. In fact, it is so easy women can lower it themselves. It takes half a second, anyone can try it. That way, the person who is about to use it can adjust it according to their needs. How ingenious, huh? Which brings us to…

IV) Men don't use the toilet without first assessing its status and neither should women. Ladies, if you decide to sit without looking down, you do it at your own peril. It is not your birthright to have the toilet always prepared for you, so sob stories about late night wet butts won’t break my heart. If we have to check it before we go, so should you. Gender equality works both ways.

V) Men usually want the seat up, women always want it down. Men occasionally put the seat down, women never put it up. Think about that for a second. Maybe we’re the ones who should be bitching about the damn thing.

VI) The above doesn’t really apply if you’re a guest at someone’s house, as good manners require one should oblige to the host’s wishes. But a man’s bathroom is his own domain, his private Fortress of Solitude. He goes there whenever the burden of existence gets too soul-crushing, and when he exits, he’s a renewed man, ready to face whatever the world decides to throw at him. He uses the time to gather his thoughts, to better himself. He should not have to worry about leaving no stinking toilet seat down.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to take a leak.

Jeter and the Gravitational Pull

A few weeks ago I was reading Rick Reilly’s column on ESPN.com when I stumbled across Derek Jeter’s résumé. I always knew he did well with women – his few gazillion dollars and his demigod status in NYC were kind of a giveaway – but I had no idea of the real dimension of his feats. His catalog of ex-girlfriends and love(?) affairs includes, among several other famous, not-so-famous and anonymous hotties: Lara Dutta (then-in-office 2000 Miss Universe), Jordana Brewster, Mariah Carey (in her prime, mind you), Adriana Lima and Vida Guerra (they don’t keep official records, but I’m pretty sure she has the most amazing ass to ever be sent into cyberspace – do yourself a favor and google her), as well as the unbeatable, unprecedented and so far unmatched Jessica tandem: Ms. Biel and Ms. Alba.

Seriously, read that list again. Even without the crown jewels (i.e. that double dose of Jessica), that’s already a Hall of Fame career. With them, the guy easily reaches the Casanova-Don Juan de Marco-Sinatra Pantheon. Apparently he’s now engaged to young starlet Minka Kelly, so, unless things fall through at the last moment, a sharp decline in his performance is expected, at least for the next few years. Still, the institution of marriage is not as solid as it once was and it no longer equates to a life sentence, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Jeter comes out of his early retirement and rejoins the game. If he does and maintains the same pace, he might be the best ever by the time he definitively hangs up his… uh… bat. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, all he needs now is to complete his Jessica collection with the most elusive of them all, Mrs. Jessica Rabbit, to claim that G.O.A.T. title for good.

(A quick tangent here: I could never understand why G.O.A.T. – i.e. Greatest Of All Time – was the chosen acronym to describe the very best there ever was. A goat is not a fearsome animal by any stretch of imagination (although I was attacked by a goat once and it was pretty scary. Then again, I was 8 and also afraid of the dark, so that’s probably not a good standard). A goat has no outstanding speed, strength, size, aggressiveness; nor any other relevant trait that would justify this association. It’s a boring herbivore. Plus, it’s pretty much a synonym for scapegoat, which, last I checked, wasn’t a glorious thing to be. Why not change ‘greatest’ for ‘best’ and use B.O.A.T. instead? A boat at least can be big and powerful. And, as a nickname, it sounds way cooler: He’s the BOAT. It’s so good I’m surprised no rapper has taken it yet. It’s decided, then: BOAT it is.)

So Jeter has one of the most impressive CVs in recent history. Or does he? What made Jeter’s conquest index stand out when I first saw it was that I don’t recall celebrities, not even A-list ones, just lining up other celebrities like that. Bear in mind I don’t mean one-nighters that remain mostly in the realm of hearsay, but rather actual relationships with other famous and highly desired people that lasted for more than a couple of hours and were made public – you know, with red carpet appearances and what not.

To settle the question, I decided to do some quick research on the most obvious names out there, but could only find a handful of guys whose numbers and enthusiasm for the game match or surpass those of the Yankees captain: the aforementioned Frank Sinatra (absolute king in this category, Jeter would definitely need Jessica Rabbit to catch him); the veteran Mick Jagger; powerhouses Brad Pitt, Leonardo DiCaprio and George Clooney; and Justin Timberlake.

What’s perhaps more interesting is that, while conducting this very important case study, I noticed that most of the celebrities I thought would have enough clout to shadow Jeter’s accomplishments were in fact quite monogamous: Tom Cruise first wed Mimi Rogers; then was married to Nicole Kidman for ages before briefly dating Penelope Cruz and then brainwashing Katie Holmes. Tom Brady went from a long term relationship with Bridget Moynahan to a marriage with Gisele Bünchen. Ben Affleck dated Gwyneth Paltrow and accomplished a somewhat impressive Jennifer combo (Lopez and Garner – no Aniston, though), but was engaged to the first and eventually married the second. Bruce Willis became Mr. Demi Moore two seconds after reaching major stardom and only really played the field later in life. David Beckham married the very first celebrity he dated, Spice Girl Victoria Adams. Even up-and-coming Ryan Reynolds went straight from 5 years under Alanis Morissette to tying the knot with Scarlett Johansson.

I also looked into the feminine part of the equation, and the trend continues. If you discard the likes of Tara Reid, Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan, whose alleged encounters with top-tier celebrities, albeit frequent, would hardly qualify as relationships, the leading ladies would be your usual suspects: Cameron Diaz, Gisele, Gwyneth, Uma Thurman… None of them has more than 3 or 4 big names to her account; and even those are often the result of lasting relationships.

I’m sure I overlooked a few noteworthy exceptions on both sides, but there’s no doubt the tendency is there. That’s confusing: I was expecting a full-blown sexual merry-go-round and instead what I found was a bunch of committed people. I know most of them are Hollywood-committed, not committed-committed, so perhaps the free-for-all sex is still there. If the tabloids get half of their stories right, there’s certainly no shortage of it – surely Paris Hilton is bound to have slept with at least some of those guys (and girls). Nevertheless, however rampant the sexcapades might be, they are not counting towards anybody’s official stats.

So either these monogamous celebrities are flying under the radar while dating other artists/athletes/models or they are in actual loving and faithful relationships. I don’t mean to be overly cynical, after all they are real people with real feelings and all that crap, and I’m sure that sometimes they are the real thing… but honestly, what are the odds of so many celebs continuously falling for and staying with precisely their most famous/hottest counterparts? I just don’t buy it: if it were that easy to meet a significant other on a movie set, casting agencies should start internet dating services and capitalize on their matchmaking skills.

If it’s not true love, then we’re back to widespread behind-the-curtains affairs, and that’s where I get lost. If it were just about getting laid, wouldn’t it be easier to just stick to the anonymous groupies, who can be just as attractive, tend to be less complicated and are never short in supply? Isn’t telling people one of the perks of knocking boots with a hot star? Both men and women take pride in showing off their catches, so how come so many celebrities don’t try to prance around with their many different high-prized trophy dates?

Truth be told, I think most self-respecting women would consider their reputations and be smart enough to avoid raking up a lofty and embarrassing figure, so maybe that explains why so many ladies top up at four. But men are not that bright, and definitely not very mature: they speak of résumés, careers, stats, accomplishments, collections and conquests; they resort to distasteful puns when referring to sex; they even google women and compare asses, oh the horror! They would see themselves as playas, not sluts. And I’m sure those larger-than-life types could pull it off, so why is it that, instead of mimicking Hugh Hefner, they pick one really shiny trophy and stick with it?

My take on this intriguing state-of-affairs can be dubbed the Gravitational Pull Theory. It’s a bit like love, only more pragmatic. See, as people attain certain notoriety, they also acquire what can be described as a gravitational pull, depending on their looks, fame and fortune. This force, which is part of the very essence of their status as celebrities, is what draws people to them, sexually, professionally or otherwise; and its intensity is what ultimately defines their places within the Hollywood food chain. A guy like Tom Brady or a woman like Beyoncé, for example, are close enough to the top to have their pick from the array of celebrities available, whereas DJ Qualls and Kathy Bates probably not so much.

Nevertheless – and this is important – in spite of their own gravity, they are still (and perhaps even more so) vulnerable to other celebrities’ pull. Remember, they remain human and usually care way too much about fame and beauty. So anybody caught up in the celebrity dating dynamic is always, even if only at the subconscious level, tempted to trade up – especially if their own stock is rising. Just watch as Zac Efron dumps Vanessa Hudgens for the next Megan Fox type that comes along and you’ll know what I mean.

Eventually, however, balance is reached and they find someone just as dominant, creating a scenario where neither one wants to bail. This is also known as the Holy-Crap-I-can’t-believe-I’m-sleeping-with-that-person effect – which, by the way, affects all of us. And whenever it hits both sides in a relationship, you can be sure that it’s one that is going to last for a while.

The theory can be tested by going through those names mentioned above – except for Tom Cruise, who, even though arguably a fit, is also batshit insane and therefore not very good as proof one way or the other. Demi Moore and Bruce Willis, Beckham and Posh Spice… even Brad Pitt, who had quite a run – Christina Applegate, Geena Davis, Juliette Lewis, Claire Forlani and Jennifer Aniston are on his list – eventually met his match in Angelina Jolie (who also had been trading up since her ‘Hacker’ days). Same goes for DiCaprio, who stayed with Gisele Bünchen for quite a while, and Timberlake, who first wouldn’t let go of Cameron Diaz, then went steady with Jessica Biel. Hell, Sinatra himself couldn't escape the pull, so you better believe it’s there.

That’s why I think Jeter’s engagement won’t last. Considering the overall level of his ex-girlfriends, Minka Kelly is a downgrade. She just doesn’t have enough pull to compete with the kind of women he usually attracts. If Vegas decides to take bets on it, I don’t care what the line is, I’m taking the under.

Or maybe this is all nonsense and love really trumps all in the end. Who knows?