A MOMENT OF TRUTH: MANHOOD QUESTIONED

Last night my roommate Ashley asked me to walk the dog with her. It was about 11:15. We were walking around the neighborhood streets, talking about nonsense. The dog we were walking had been pissing all over the place. Every 20 feet or so. About 10 different sessions by the time we were 8 minutes into the walk. We were impressed, and wondered how a dog holds so much liquid, and how he manages to save up for 10 different watering sessions.

Ashley started talking about using her senses. Except for the blind, most humans usually just use their eyes all the time. But as Ashley said, "It's important to not just rely on vision but to hone the other senses too."

At this point, we were standing still while Marley, the dog, was sniffing a particularly nice tree near the stret corner. Suddenly, as if God had heard our conversation about senses, the air turned damp and heavy. There was a gigantic whooshing sound sucking through the grass around our feet. It crept up slowly, and at first I was only vaguely aware of it. I heard it for a few seconds before I actually noticed it was unordinary. Then everything registered at once: I realized the lawn sprinklers surrounding the sidewalk were about to start up.

The sudden knowledge hit me like a freight train from hell. I must have been whiter than a Cracker Barrel manager. This was, at that moment, the scariest thing in the world. With my eyes wide and my face blood-drained, I aborted our conversation and sprinted down the sidewalk into the street.

Marley started barking loudly. The sprinklers started spraying everywhere. It was as epic as the finale in Caddyshack where the whole golf course starts erupting.

Safe in the street, I composed myself. Safe and dry, I suddenly remembered I was not alone. "Where is Ashley? Did she make it out before the whole thing blew?"

Then I felt like Mark Moskowitz. I felt like such a spineless scumbag, scared and selfish. God knows how I would have reacted on the Titanic -- the phrase "Women and Children" meant nothing to me.

In my own terror, I had forsaken Ashley (the woman) and Marley (the child). In an effort to save my own skin, I had left my companions to fend for themselves. The moment I realized the sprinklers were about to burst, the world around me shrank so instantaneously that all I could see was myself. So I did what a true bonedick would do and ran the fuck out of there without helping anyone else.

Ashley and Marley ended up making it out unscathed. As Hans Solo reassuringly said to Leah when the Death Star exploded, "I'm sure Luke wasn't on that thing when it blew." Thus was the situation here. Ashley was actually laughing insanely, not the least bit bothered that I left her out on that sidewalk to die a slow, miserable death.

But her joy did nothing to make me feel like any less of a scumbag. Trying to regain some of my masculinity, I laughed along, like it was no big deal. Then, with all the strength I could summon, I forcefully wrapped my spindly right arm around her as if to say, "Well that was quite an experience. Sorry I ran away in the face of danger but I'm standing strong now."

What kind of a man am I? She thought it was funny, but I had just learned a terrible fact about myself. I am a weak man. A coward. I know this because, the moment the sprinklers started to hum, everything else in the world except my own well-being instantly evaporated. Ashley and Marley existed only in the outer limits of my periphery. The voice in my head was forceful: "THEY'LL FIGURE IT OUT FOR THEMSELVES. JUST FUCKING RUN AND SAVE YOURSELF!"

It might have been the most primal feeling I've ever had. I had no control. I would have had the same reaction if we were standing under a cliff and I suddenly realized a huge boulder was about to crush us. Just ran, without anyone else occurring to me until I was safe.

There are so many scenes in action movies where the Val Kilmer manbeast character risks his life to grab hold of the helplessly gorgeous sexified woman-creature right as the bridge is collapsing into a river of lava swarming with hell-piranahs. But in real life, Val Kilmer would get the fuck out of there. His instinct would override his valor and his indomitable pecs and biceps would be useless.

So what if that ever happens to me again? How can I override that instinct? Am I a coward or just a man? Can I work to vanquish my instinct and do the chivalrous thing?

I always thought I was the best guy in the world. Now I might just be a guy.

CAPTAIN CHEDDARSTORM