Just recently I have noticed that I have been increasingly brought up short by a certain person when it appears I have been doing or saying something either annoying or stupid. Apparently when men reach a certain stage in their lives we become victim to a certain type of verbal diarrhoea. I will try to explain. It appears that as men age we are prone to saying and doing things that make their female partners doubt their sanity. Mostly, this sort of thing reveals itself via saying or doing something in a rather bizarre fashion. Apparently, we sometimes express ourselves in a weird fashion - it can be singing something in silly way, or perhaps saying exactly the same thing in various unlikely British accents. Personally, I would have thought that such outbursts were harmless enough, but - apparently not!


A s a man gets older, does he just forget how to be cool - or is it in his DNA to be reduced to little annoying sayings and ‘pat’ phrases? And if this is actually the case, might it be that the reason why it is so upsetting is that our womenfolk are not so much in our thrall - and alas, let’s face it; tedious is - as tedious does. I understand that phrases such as “I’m not three bad, thank you” maybe - “Here we all are then” - it could be “Blimey you won’t get many of them in a pound” perhaps the constant use of “Lovely jubbly” as if nobody has ever said that before - these example of the genre drive women mad it seems. What about when your bloke picks up and constantly uses silly sayings that he’s picked up over the years? I am told that I have a rather peculiar affectation towards a comedy Welsh accent. A particular favourite I’m told is - “Whose coats that jacket?” Closely followed by the following words - tidy, lush and the phrase “What’s occurring?” To show you that I am not ethnically biased towards the Welsh, I have apparently started to say things such as “There’s nowt as queer as folk” in a vaguely Yorkshire accent and “You plonker” in a South London based, cockney argot. It really is so sad isn’t it, speaking in an accent other than your own and thinking it’s amusing, but it isn’t - never was, and never will be. Oh dear!


Then there is the whole business of ‘mansplaining.’ This is the incredibly patronising way that some of us will endeavour to explain something to a woman. A woman remember, who by-and-large is much smarter than you, knows what you are going to say before you actually say it - and if you took any notice at all, you would be aware of her ‘death stare’ and that muscle in her jaw twitching like mad as she tries to work out how she might murder you and get away with it. Anyway, I hope you are in for the long-haul as I have more examples of men annoying their womenfolk. Does your bloke ever sing in an exaggerated fashion just to enrage your sensibilities? What about dancing the Cha-Cha-Cha in the kitchen for no apparent reason, other than to remind her for the 33rd time this month that you once won a dance competition on the island as you sashay around the breakfast-bar wiggling your arse? However, it can be the small things that will cause her to explode. For instance, driving past a certain house in Es Capdella and telling her - “My mate Ian lives there you know?” - can and does have her spitting tacks. As is my insistence on informing her of something she already knows in painful and prolonged detail, even though she has threatened me with a painful Chinese burn.


However, I haven’t yet mentioned what can really drive her to distraction. When she drives, it seems that I sit uncomfortably cringing in the front passenger seat - saying things like “Woah, woah, be careful love” and having my hand permanently hovering over the hand-break whilst she’s driving - which she says may cause her to cut off my goolies - “one day soon.” All this supposed anxiety is quite naturally forgotten whist she is driving us home after a good night out with friends as I’m fast asleep and happily burbling away with my hand nowhere near the hand-break. As we are on the subject of the devil that is drink - she has often commented on the fact that whenever she asks me what I’ve had to drink - I will explain to her that I’ve only had “two small beers” whatever the circumstances. “Why is this I wonder?” she rather sarcastically observes - how do you explain to a woman, that this is in fact - the law, or should be! However, the most humbling of situations any man of a certain vintage can face, is that of the snide remark that hits its mark. Recently, as we dined out one evening, I happened to mention that our waitress was a very pretty girl in a measured and non pervy fashion and all I got was - “Yes, she is - I bet she lays awake at night dreaming of 60 year old men.” It maybe true, but still uncalled for I reckon. Next Friday in this Frank Talking column, for balance - I will outline in detail the things that women say and do to massively irritate their menfolk.