The jewelry commercials during the holidays always gross me out. Not just because the stuff’s more than I can afford and rarely to my taste; I’m not fond of diamonds, though I do love jewelry itself. No, mostly it’s the implication that clueless men can get out of doing stupid shit and continue to convince their long-suffering wives to fuck them if they just buy them sparklies. It’s insulting to everybody in the marriage and with two weeks to go until Christmas, I pretty much already want to shoot the TV. Every kiss does not begin with fucking Kay, ‘kay?
It’s not so much the nastiness toward women that gets me in the piece Lindsay cites; I’ve come to expect that. It’s the nastiness toward men. You’re all just a buch of clueless morons who need to be led by the hand and shown exactly what to get to make your wife understand you appreciate her having your child. You can set the house on fire, forget her birthday, get drunk during her work party, and all will be forgiven if you just bring home a rock. What kind of rock? Hardly matters. The jewelry store will show you the way, you fucking doofus. And you probably don’t know how to load a dishwasher, either. Go watch some football. And fart.
Thing is, I do not actually know any men who have relationships with their wives like this. Most of the guys I know buy their wives or girlfriends (or boyfriends) presents because it makes their partners happy. They take the time to figure out what kinds of things their partners like, and get those. For some people it is the kind of jewelry available in lots of the chain places; for othes it’s not. I can’t say for certain everybody I know doesn’t have some kind of secret rocks-for-cock arrangement, but if lots of my friends are being bribed for sex, they certainly aren’t telling me about it over Cosmos and re-viewings of Sex and the City.