“What makes a Real Man?” Zambones is Asked

This above question comes from Gerard Lalime, from France, the country in Europe far from Estonia.

Gerard, this question is a good one. The answer was shown to me long ago by my adoptive father, Horvath the Cheesemonger. One stormy day, when rains whipped through the farm making toothpicks out of the fences which kept in the goats, I learned what a real man is. When the fences were down and the lightning cracked over the vast Estonian sky, the goats scattered into the hills. Horvath and myself, then only a boy of nine with one lame leg, chased the animals down, until all but one had been returned. Horvath kept searching for the one old black stud-goat whom we called Shorty. Though Shorty was past his prime of mating, he’d sired many generation of fine milk-producing goat. Horvath kept searching as the wind and rain worsened. Three hours later, shivering, Horvath returned with the goat in his arms and collapsed. The goat lived another year, but Horvath expired from Hypothermia.

He risked everything, for one he loved, for what was right. This, my French friend, is what a man is.

But a man is also one who gets up in the morning, and faces another day that promises to be strangely similar to the one before. Perhaps that is a diferent, but no less noble sort of risk?

For a third answer, I leave you with this classic 1980’s song which searches over the same matter. (click “watch on you tube” if all goes black)

Vive la France, and all the best to you.

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