You may have noticed that almost all of my posts are prompted by other people’s blogs. Oh, well, I’ll take my inspiration where I can get it.
This morning, I read Sonora Sage’s description of her recent roadside encounter with Mr. and Mrs. All-American while changing a flat tire. Although she appreciated Mr. All-American’s help loosening the lugnuts (once he figured out the “righty tighty, lefty loosey” part, that is), she didn’t appreciate his obvious belief that she could never have managed the job on her own, and Mrs. All-American’s simultaneous performance as the clueless female. Nonetheless, Mr. All-American insisted on doing the job himself. (Hmmm, where have I heard that before? Oh, yeah, now, I remember. That was the way I lived most of my life, having learned at my daddy’s knee — he never really sat me on his knee, but I wish he had — that “if you want the job done right, do it yourself.”) Anyway, Sonora’s story prompted memories of a somewhat similar experience of my own, which I left as a comment on her post and which I am sharing here (with a couple of minor edits) for those who might not find their way to her blog.
I encountered some of the same attitude myself awhile back, although, in my case, the roles were reversed: I was the (would-be) rescuer, Mr. and Mrs. All-American, and their All-American son, were the ones in need of help.
During most of my years growing up, my dad owned a Jeep (then virtually the only 4WD vehicles available in the States) and we spent many hours bouncing down back roads, climbing hills and getting stuck (and, eventually, unstuck). And I’ve owned my own 4WD vehicles for 15+ years just so I can go where other people aren’t, primarily at the ends of northern and central Arizona’s many rocky roads. Although I haven’t done as much of that since my transition, I still enjoy it when I get the chance.
A little over a year ago, I was in Tucson for a workshop. I’ve been down there for these workshops before and on my way back I like to find a different way home that inevitably involves some amount of “4-wheeling.” This time I decided to drive to the top of Mt. Lemmon and down the other side to Oracle. My friend Alison in Tucson warned me that the road was really rough, but I found it not particularly challenging. (In fact, it can probably be done without 4WD as long as you have decent ground clearance and know how to negotiate your way around the high spots.)
I had gone perhaps 5 miles down the dirt road on the back (north) side of Mt. Lemmon, when I came upon an SUV (i.e., one of those vehicles that have 4WD but are clearly not made to drive off the pavement) stopped by the side of the road. Mr. All-American appeared to be about to start changing a tire, while Mrs. All-American and young All-American son watched. Growing up, I learned that you never pass by someone in possible need of help in the backcountry without stopping and doing what you can to help, since you never know when you’ll be the one in need of rescue. Feeling quite smug in both my driving skills and my ability to change a tire, I stopped, rolled down my window and asked Mr. All-American if he needed any help. The look on his face in response clearly said that he had no idea what a woman could possibly do to help him and wondered what in the hell a woman was doing driving down this remote road all by herself anyway? (I suspect there was also a bit of hurt male pride to see me safely negotiating the road, when he couldn’t, a feeling I had no interest in alleviating.) In any case, he said, no thanks, and I went on.
As your Mr. All-American told you, I’ve changed my share of flat tires, as I’m sure you have too. So, my Mr. All-American got to save face in front of his wife and son, but was left on the narrow roadside to fend for himself. Oh, well, his loss.
BTW, if you ever get a chance to take that drive, please do. It’s beautiful, especially as you get lower down above Oracle where there are fields of bear grass waving in the wind.
Thanks for the memory, Sonora. I hope you get those new tires soon, that is, unless you want to repeat your fake “damsel in distress” scenario to see who stops the next time. :-)
Living My Life 
That “righty tighty” thing is a good tip. Thanks, and happy new year.
Second great story of the day, Abby! I’m really absorbing life in the other lane now ;)
I’m sure I’ll have to craft my own response when something like this happens to me!
Ya, some guys have a problem accepting help from anyone, especially a (gasp) woman, unless they’re really up the creek! That ole’ male pride thing, sometimes it’s kinda funny.
Me, I sometimes have problems accepting help from men, such as carrying heavy bags of rabbit food from the store, must be that residual pride thing. :-) Truth is, those 50 pound bags are a lot heavier than they used to be! LOL
It’s interesting that in your story, the stranded person clearly refused the help — while in the other story you linked to, the stranded person, despite protesting later about the gender roles, still accepted the help anyway and apparently didn’t make any attempts to educate the Good Samaritans about gender roles.
I think that story shows that while it’s not hard to recognize sexism in daily life, even people who think they have discarded the nonsense of strict gender roles will still find it easier to just go along with societally mandated stereotypes (and pass by a teachable moment) instead of challenging them directly.
(PS: I think labeling either incident as “misogyny” is really a stretch. Perhaps attitudes displaying and enforcing male privilege, yes, but it’s not like either of the men involved had any ill will, and in fact, one was pretty helpful.)
That is so typical of a man and his pride, that is all I will say about that because I will offend many men that don’t need to hear from this woman ;-)
Four wheeling hell yes, I have the cutest 4WD pickup that make some of them big boys cringe when they see me driving.
Silly boys this truck is for girls sign on my truck.
Give em hell baby!!
Hi — I apologize for being quite off-topic, but there’s a reason: We’re having a Prescott area blogger get together Sunday Jan. 18 at 2 p.m. at Casa Sanchez, 1459 West Gurley. Hope to see you there. You can contact me at [email deleted to protect poster’s privacy].
Granny J, Thanks for letting me know about this blogger get together. I’m not sure if I’ll make it, but I’ll definitely put it on my calendar. I enjoyed your blog and all the photos of Prescott and the surrounding areas.
Note to brayden: I didn’t post your comment because it was off topic. Instead, I sent you an email with a response to your questions. If you haven’t received it yet, check you spam filter. My email is at the end of my introduction on the “About Abby” page: https://arizonaabby.wordpress.com/about/.