I just had an experience on the train home that has really made me think. I came onto the train and sat down next to a father and a son. First I thought nothing of it, but then I realized there was something special about these two. I sensed there was a really strong father-son connection between them. It was very tangible to me. The father was solid, open and loving, a man I could trust. And the boy was sat free and protected in the space provided by his father.
I started feeling into that and felt how happy the sight of them made me. How great the bodily feeling of sitting right next to the space that surrounded these was. Almost a form of relaxation. And then I realized – I couldn’t remember the last time I saw anything like it. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen a father provide that kind of space for his son. It struck me as being very strange.
Then as I considered telling them how happy just seeing them made me, I realized that they were speaking French. They weren’t even Norwegian. “Bummer!,” I thought to myself.
Then this gang of Norwegian teenage boys entered. They were around 16-18 years old and drunk. It was very surreal – the father and son sitting to my left, and these confused teenage boys doing their teenage things. As my French heroes left the train, the Norwegian boys sat down next to me, and one of them starting speaking in a loud voice about things you could do to women in bed. He was telling his mates about really crude acts of sexual violence towards women. He told them enthusiastically about the “Angry dragon”, which is when a woman gives you head and you are about to come. Right as you are about to unload, you shove her head brutally down the shaft of your penis, and then you come so hard, the sperm comes out of her nose. Charming, I thought to myself. I’d like to see you try that.
Not to mention the other charmer. He didn’t have a name for it, but the fun part about this one was to have the woman riding you and then, just after you come and she is getting ready to unmount and snuggle up, you pull her face down as if you are about to kiss her and tell her “I’ve got Aids”. “What the fuck?!,” I thought to myself, and was starting to get real close to giving that kid a wakeup call. But then it was his stop and he was off, and all I was left with was telling his friends “Nice buddy you have there. You should challenge him to do any of those things, and you’ll find that he is all mouth and no balls.” Plus his heart of course wouldn’t allow him to. But I kept that part quiet.
I realize that boys need some room to be crude and uncivilized to form a healthy masculine identity, but this was a level of crude I did not appreciate. It was pretty sickening actually, and I wondered what kind of parenting he was receiving to run around talking shit like that. What sane father would not come down on him real hard for thinking that bullcrap? Same for the fathers of his buddies – who were laughing enthusiastically (while they probably thought he was a big shithead, and the boy himself hated the crap he was spouting).
It was just such a shocking contrast – this wonderful experience of seeing this strong, mature father and his happy and protected son – and then seeing these dumbnuts right after. I really hope this says a lot less about the difference between father-son relationships in France and Norway than it seems.