If a man must have one thing in life, what would it be? A wife? A child? A good job?
No, a good male friend.  At least, that has been my experience in 36 years of living in the equivalent of a male dormitory.  I currently have four roommates, who have been here for 26, 11, and 9 years, and our newest Black brother has been with us for 5 months now. All masculine, heterosexual businessmen. An engineer, an attorney, a marketing agent, and a football coach.

local barbeque 2009

My amateur hobby is sociology and understanding coercive persuasion. Trends, hype, memes and peer pressure are subjects that intrigue me. In my work I run across a lot of people who are victims of these trends, but at home the atmosphere is one of sharp criticism, light sarcasm, a quick wit and the promise of embarrassment if you promote a bogus idea. If one of us does not get called on carpet for something dumb, we will make up arguments just for fun. We love to argue. Often the neighbors join in.

Little boys dream of soldiers and tanks and cars and puppies. As they get older, they dream of sports, and girls. By the time they get married and settle down, they usually have to readjust their REAL dreams (their life’s hopes and plans) to match their circumstances. Plans to race Formula One cars or being the world’s strongest man are left behind in the aging process.  (Women, by contrast, often reinvent themselves in their 40s.) How doth a man survive this apparent failure to reach his goals in life? Male friends, for the most part.

What Men Need

• Guys need to bond; they need to feel affirmation from other guys.
• These must be guys that they look up to.
• Male friends have to be honest and reliable; guys that will “cover their back,” so to speak, and support them in those rare moments when they are vulnerable and have temporarily lost their way.

At least in my circle of close male friends and neighbors, who are mostly surfers and jocks, it is not hard to guess what they need: Identity, masculinity, and the knowledge that they have “made the grade,” in terms of being a man. No one wants to be called a “fag,” or a “little bitch,” or anything that threatens their masculinity. This is the obscene moniker they dread the most. No one wants to be called a “fag.”  It is denigrating to the male ego. It makes a man question if he, after all, really is a man.

Having lived my entire life with lots of people in my house, both as a child and after leaving the nest at 17, I can speak from experience. My parents entertained guests all the time. We lived on a “ranch” with a couple of acres, with horses and dogs and cats and a raccoon. We had an extra room, which was usually occupied by one of my childhood buddies who were down and out or kicked out by their parents. Bob B. was one of those boys; homely, with one trailing eye and a roly poly body. Some would call him lazy.

Randy, Bob and my cousin Mike circa 1967

My mom was long-suffering, but when Bob stopped working and made it his profession to annoy everyone by lazing around the house all day, my mom set his belongings out by the corral, in a bag!  She didn’t tolerate bad behavior. But Bob remained best friends with us. He eventually got married and had an adorable little girl during the time I became a Jehovah’s Witness.

Years later, Bob called me up at Bethel out of the blue (it took him awhile to locate me and figure out I had become a Jehovah’s Witness), and told me that he loved me, and wanted to thank me for those years of being his friend. Bob was now 22 and divorced; his wife having left him. He had become well-off and successful, but not in his marriage. Had I been there for him in the end, he probably wouldn’t have pulled the trigger. I found out a couple of years later. They found his body in a cabin at Lake Arrowhead, after three days missing.

Bob had no buddy to talk to in the end. I was too wrapped up in my cult adventure to follow through and find out that he was depressed and suicidal. It just wasn’t his style; he was a survivor, a tough guy. We vused to race my beat-up Ford Cortina against his old VW bug in the dirt roads of Irvine Ranch for miles. He was a man’s man, but in the end he found himself alone and unwanted. His business success meant nothing to him when the day was done.

At this same time, circa 1976, I befriended a local brother in my Brooklyn congregation of Jehovah’s Witnesses. He was a pioneer, and had the kind of energy and smarts that made him my type of buddy. Jack G. had no father to help him. Yet he was determined to be a real man; a strong virulent example of "what a Black man should be."  He was handsome and muscular, learned Martial arts, had a pretty girlfriend, and was very articulate and self-controlled. He applied for Bethel service and was accepted, and was assigned to the ink room, where ink was made for the large rotary presses. Jack was a perfect model of a man.  Too perfect, actually, which was a little unnerving. What drove him to such efforts at perfection?

Jack ond Ron (and me) in New Jersey canoeing

I am not sure, but I suspect it was the missing dad, and Jack’s need to feel like a whole man. Working his way up the ranks in the JWs made him feel wanted and needed. Guys seem to need that more than most people think. They just will never say it. Especially not to a woman.

Jack lost his girlfriend one day. She jilted him. I found out what happened a few days later, when Jack didn’t go out to the congregation on the subway with me. The next day, I discovered that Jack was so upset about his girlfriend that they had him go to the infirmary, where he became animated. Not being comfortable with the “booming voice of a big Black man,” Bethel called the proper contacts and had Jack committed to the local mental hospital. His only visitor was myself and another elder... for about a year! No one else from Bethel. He was put on anti-psychotic medication and gained a lot of weight. I cried. This was my buddy!  Jack, my best conversationalist friend and companion, got his head stapled to the wall by the Bethel family.

Jack took this picture of us canoeing in Jersey

Jack got out and became an insurance salesman. How do I know? He called me years later, knowing that I was no longer a JW, and thanked me. He really didn’t care why I left. All he knew was that my bond with him was stronger than his religion. Jack valued my friendship. 

I am not sure why I have found this story to be the exception among Jehovah’s Witnesses. So many seem willing to cut off their own sons; their own fathers, from their all-important affection and approval. Are they really so cruel? So bent on punishing the “bad” man; the one who DARES raise a hand against Jehovah’s Organization?

I am taking a guess that the problem is both cowardice (fear of losing face or position in the congregation), and the failure to ever develop strong male bonds.  I can’t imagine my father would ever cut me off from anything short of acts of wanton violence! Sure, he may completely disapprove of me in one way or another, but to cut off his affection and love given to me? That’s like taking it out on your pet dog by never petting him again. If such dogs could commit suicide, it would cross their minds. In the case of people, it does.  Contrary to how it may appear, men grieve, and they grieve hard and sometimes in violent ways.

I have seen a new generation of former Witness men come to grips with the failed male figures in their lives. It is usually a father; but sometimes a brother, or even a very close friend that they have become painfully estranged from. The pain has reached the tipping point; they must find a healing from the pain. For some it is writing about their life, for others it lies in finding buddies and friends.

Don’t let your life pass by without good friends.

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written by EverSoGrateful , July 09, 2009

KUDOS Randy!

smile

It is so sad that when you are "in" the cult.... things tend to make sense. You know, the ignoring past friends & family that do not share the same religious views. Who are they to tell me what's right and wrong? Why would I have a meal with or socialize with family that just wants to get together for a spaghetti meal & capture some home movies? How dare them think that I would enjoy their company! After all... I don't see them at the kingdom hall, circling the answers in the WT, or out in service driving around with a bunch of people, putting in a certain amount of "hours" trying to pawn off magazines & books for a donation, that ... by the way... goes to the headquarters in New York, ( you know... the multi million dollar tax exempt, publishing company that gets all of their work done FREE of wages ) yeah, that one!.... All I see is people out there working regular jobs, saving up Satans $$$$$$ , setting up a future for themselves....and sending their children to college so that they can have well adjusted lives & a happy family and so on & so forth... OH MY GOD... Why would I want to spend time with people like that? hmmmm.... yep, you realize AFTER the fact... that those people inside that you thought were your friends... were only your friends cause you shared the same beliefs! How closed minded can we get? But like i say.... you think you are perfectly normal & right while in. That's the beauty of a CULT..... you don't know you are in it , until you are out! THEN... you find out who your real friends are! Us girls need friends too....

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written by JoJoJones , July 09, 2009

I have found the same thing to be true as a woman with heterosexual female friends. I don't feel miserable and 'incomplete' because I don't have a man in my life. I couldn't be happier. Of course, my amazing five cats have a lot to do with that. :-) They and my 'girlfriends' are all I need. I enjoy being a free spirit, a free agent, being independent. There is nothing like it! I enjoy life. I never want to be married. Men as just friends are okay, but anything more than that I don't want or feel a need for. It's great to be single. I don't feel like a 'spinster', either (such an old-fashioned term - - I mean, this is the 21st century, sheesh). If men can be bachelors, then women can simply be bachelorettes. Spinsters! My foot!!

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written by Blueeyes 54 , July 09, 2009

sad

When one partakes of the emlems at memorial one finds out very quickly who their true friends are. One of the greatest priveleges now becomes the worst disease. It's as if one has a terrible affliction that will passed on on to others.

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written by EverSoGrateful , July 09, 2009

I remember having a sister in the Cong. that was of the annointed ( according to her ) and she was sooooo knowledgable about the bible that I was intimidated by her. Yet she was one of the most warm hearted people I ever knew. She passed away several years ago, and I still think about her...wondering if she ever would have come to her senses about the cult....But... one good thing...if you don't realise it while you are alive... you certainly are aware of it when you pass on! That's just my belief!

cool

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written by Blueeyes 54 , July 09, 2009

Oh she does. But she also knows why. "that which is complete" has arrived. So now she gets to plead the cause of the true "lost sheep".

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written by EverSoGrateful , July 10, 2009

.... how sad it is that people spend their PRIME YEARS working at the JW compounds for measly pennies per month and then.. when they retire (hahahha) and leave the compound, they do NOT get any kind of monetarily compensation, nor do they get any kind of benefit pkg, nor any retirement... OH I forgot... their benefits are that they GOT TO DO THIS ALL FOR FREE... and SOMEDAY they will ON A PARADISE EARTH... yep... I forgot about that... but in the meantime, they will live like poor church mice off of our govt that they do NOT SUPPORT, but yet it supporst many of them... (monetarily) and phisically... yep , that's for sure the true religion....

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written by John-Paul , July 22, 2009

EverSoGrateful: My grandmother taught me perhaps the most important thing in this world - money and things don't matter, and if they do to you, you are in for a big disappointment. Even if JW's don't have the "true" religion, I think some of the experiences and the things learned can enrich one's life to an immeasurable point. Even if one only learns to appreciate God, that is enough to spend a lifetime trying to achieve. Not to rain on your parade, but I worry more about the person who thinks that way then the person in honest search of truth though may not have it.

John-Paul

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