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I was driving down the 101, just North of Los Angeles and one thing suddenly dawned on me: I have become fully integrated into the rat race of So. Cal. I am a consumer is is working to afford my level of consumption. I have become something that resembles characteristics of a creature I used to despise: The Suburban Pussy.

When I was in college, it was easy to sit back and judge people who I thought were soft, dependent with an oversized sense of self and an oversized carbon foot print. You see, I went to college a bit North of San Francisco and I was fully bought into the liberal, lower middle-class mind set. I was a proud member of the educated lower tax bracket.What that period afforded me was a life with limited commitments and nearly no material pressures to maintain (i.e. house, German car, kids—you get the point). I was able to observe others and wonder at their level of waste and service dependence.

Back then, I had no money to buy new cars, let alone pay someone to repair them. I couldn’t afford an accountant and didn’t have enough money for one to be of any use, so I did my own taxes. When I wanted to paint my house, I painted my house. The thought of outsourcing basic things was not an option for me. So, it was easy for me to just assume other people who did were, well, less than I was.These people I referred to as “Suburban Pussies.”

The Suburban Pussy was soft, over reliant on other people to do work for him. A person who wore white socks and loafers with his pleated khaki shorts and knit shirts, a person who spent his spare time at Costco and looking for ways to blow his inflated salary. A thoroughly neutered version of a man made weak by the excesses of the suburban middle class lifestyle.Well people, I think that time, age and subconscious socialization has finally worn on me. I realize that my perception and priorities have somehow changed and I am closer to the khaki shorts and white socks than I care to be.

Here is what I mean:

• I usually find myself at Costco at least twice a month. The items in my cart are entirely luxury crap that I would be happier without. Who needs 5 pounds of organic dehydrated blue berries, 20 bars of Dove soap, the Matrix Trilogy in BlueRay, plush bath towel and Kirkland lotion?
  
• I drive 60 miles to work in an SUV that gets 15 miles per gallon and I complain about my gas bill.
  
• I check CNN.com at least three times a day.
  
• I seldom exercise and if I do, it’s taking the kids to the park and sitting on the bench, talking to other tubby white guys about home improvement and the stock market.
  
• I worry about keeping my level of employment to a degree that I can maintain my level of consumption and debt!
  

So, what am I going to do about it? Why, start a revolution, of course. I am calling on all loafer wearing, paunch belly suburbanites out there to get off their asses and mow your own lawns. Fire the gardener and start taking an active role in work and toil of your own lives. Sell that SUV and get a job closer to your home. Boycott Costco and save your money to spend on things that matter. At the park, talk about the other dads about manly stuff, like guns, cars, tech, music—anything but home improvement topics and poopy diapers. In a nutshell, act like the alpha males you really are. Be a man… that’s what I am going to do.

~DK