Shot taken at the Lysakov Gallery in Pacific Grove - 65° Magazine

Nap Time: A Man Among Men COLUMN 72
By Raymond Napolitano
Welcome to the first and possibly only episode of Nap Time, a mildly twisted look at our world through
my eyes. In this issue, devoted to men…give me some men, be they stout hearted men and I’ll bring to
you 10 thousand more…sing along with me. As my man James wailed: “This is a man’s world,” and don’t
you forget it (isn’t that right darling). We decide what happens, where and who to. Especially who to (each
of my former English teachers, all women, are cringing at that manly, virtually illiterate sentence).
you see, it is we men—hell, you can’t say we men, sounds so, so wee—us men (that sounds better)—don’t
have a problem breaking the rules when we need to. We can always create new ones. Even if the rules
stand up, we can do the time, suffer the consequences, bite the bullet. We’re men. We can give and take
punishment. Matter of fact, we enjoy it, we derive our identities from it: “Cut it, cut the eye open,” says
people’s champ Rocky Balboa to his grizzled (men get grizzled) corner man played by Burgess Meredith.
We’ve got Testosterone baby; hair, muscles, deep booming voices, predatory instincts—at least for a while, until our bodies start
drastically reducing the production of it and then, even if we use something like testosterone cream, it actually metabolizes as
estrogen unless we add aromatase inhibitors to the mix — but this is all barely clinical in its explanation and probably somewhat
inaccurate (I’m a man, I can say what I want). If you want real facts, go see Dr. Abraham Kryger on Cass Street in Monterey, he’s the
expert on hormones. I’m too busy to see a doctor, besides, I’m a man with unlimited virility, power, and dynamism, why would I
need to see some doctor?
I’ll just dye my hair, buy a faster car, date a slew of young chickies and talk louder when I tell my war stories about whatever
life’s mythical battles I’ve been a part of. What, you’ve already heard those stories, you say? I say, shut up and listen again.
I’m a man and you’ll hear me and love me…sing along, “I’m a man yes I am and you can’t help but love me so,” apologies to
Stevie Winwood. Used to call him Little Stevie Winwood, you see, he’s a man and men can have titles like Little, or Big, or Buster
or Mac or Buck or Butchie.
Me, I’m Nap, like take a nap…a good practice for aging gentlemen. Oh yeah, sometimes, if the conditions are right, if life
conspires more with us than against us, we become kindly older gentlemen; gray, proud, wise, grandfatherly, like Gandolph
The White, Walter Cronkite, Jimmy Carter, Morgan Freeman. The kind of men you want your children interacting with, the kind
of men who most likely shared the same unifying component of their spiritual development; they each were influenced by
powerful, intelligent, loving women. °
The Santa Fe House
ABODE 73
A new construction, the Santa Fe House is
a two-story Montana hunting lodge-style
craftsman with high levels of detail in design,
finishes, and materials. The 1,800 square-foot
home with a one-car garage sits on a hill,
peers out over the Pacific Ocean and offers a
spectacular view of the town at sunset.
CARMEL–BY–THE–SEA