A man watches. This is not about quietude so much as collection. It is not about meditation so much as considering. No one taught him this – to be quiet, to cipher, to watch. You can not take your eyes off a man when he is like that. You should not. The hell if you know what he is thinking, who he is, or what he will do next.
A man looks out for those around him – woman, friend, stranger. A man looks out for children. Makes them stand behind him.
A man does not know everything. He does not try to. A man grasps his mistakes. A man can tell you he was wrong. That he did wrong. That he planned to. He can apologize, even if sometimes it is just to put an end to it.
A man can speak to dogs. A man listens, and that is how he argues. He crafts opinions. He can pound the table, take the floor. It is not that he must. It is that he can.
A man is good at his job. Not his work, not his avocation, not his hobby. Not his career. His job. It does not matter what his job is, because if a man does not like his job, he gets a new one.
A man can cook eggs. A man makes things or he rebuild things. He passes along expertise, one man to the next. Know-how survives him. This is immortality.
A man welcomes the coming of age. It frees him. It allows him to assume the upper hand and teaches him when to step aside. He lays claim to who he is, and what he was, whether he likes you or not.
A man loves driving alone. A man is comfortable being alone. Loves being alone, actually. He can tell you when he is lost.