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FeaturesApril 29, 1997

The other day, a friend of mine leaned his head out of the window and wolf-whistled at a smartly dressed, attractive young lady who was walking toward the courthouse. He continued gawking long enough to get her reaction. "Nothing," he sighed, turning his attention back to the front...

The other day, a friend of mine leaned his head out of the window and wolf-whistled at a smartly dressed, attractive young lady who was walking toward the courthouse.

He continued gawking long enough to get her reaction.

"Nothing," he sighed, turning his attention back to the front.

I looked in my rear-view. He wasn't exactly correct, the woman hadn't ignored his gesture entirely. She had executed one slight-but-swift upward tilt of the head. I imagined that she verbalized a short and prissy "Hmmmph."

If she were in a 1940s Groucho Marx movie, she might have said, "Well, I never." To which Groucho might have responded with a wiggle of his cigar and, "Yeah, and with looks like yours, you never will."

As we got further away, my friend looked back again and saw the woman finally looking in our direction, if but briefly. He commented that she was probably taking down our license-plate number to file harassment charges.

My friend sighed again, the universal sigh of all sons of Adam, which, loosely translated, means, "Why do women act like that?"

Women have a similar sigh that means basically the same thing. It wouldn't surprise me if my friend and the woman were sighing at exactly the same time.

The first and last time I ever wolf-whistled at a pretty young girl happened when I was 16. And I still don't know why I "demeaned" her in such a way as I cruised down Broadway in my father's 1978 Lebaron.

Maybe I was caught up in some imagined moment, or maybe it was because it was the first summer I was driving, or maybe it just seemed like the cool thing to do.

Or maybe I believed that somehow it really was just a compliment, and not some stupid B-grade teen-age exploitation film type of thing to do. A 1980s way of saying, "You look nice, today, ma'am," or "How do you do?"

If I did indeed think it was a compliment, I knew immediately that she did not agree. She relayed that feeling to me by displaying one of her fingers that immediately conveyed her displeasure.

A 1980s way of saying, "Well, I never."

I remember being a bit confused at her hostility toward me. Didn't a wolf-whistle tell her that I thought she was an attractive girl? Wasn't it a compliment? Why was she so upset?

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While women say the answer is obvious to them, it's not to me.

OK, wolf-whistling may have been a bit sophomoric, I'll admit it and I'm sure my friend would, too. In each of our separate incidents, we knew it was a stupid, man-like thing to do.

But that's not the point. Men around the world are renowned for doing sophomoric, stupid things to get a woman's attention. If you don't believe me just watch them at a club, or on the street, or in the workplace.

But isn't the bottom line that at least we're TRYING to get their attention? We think we're impressing them with our moves, when in reality we're all over their feet.

We want to be noticed so it's hard for us to imagine someone NOT wanting to be noticed. Ask any man how he would react to some woman wolf-whistling at him, and I doubt the word insulted would even be in the top million.

But having said that, I guess the thing for men to do is to just stop treating women that way. What else can we do?

While we don't have to understand it, we just have to do it. Whistling is not a compliment. Why? Because they say so. It's not exactly fair, but what does fair have to do with equality?

But that doesn't mean that the aforementioned question isn't important or relevant or even accurate, the question that men have long asked of their superior, yet totally opposite sex: Why do they act that way?

Unfortunately, women keep all the secrets and there are no answers while all of a man's mystery can be found in a nice ham sandwich or a remote control.

My dad says that he's never figured women out and it's better not to even try. "Just go fishing or something and try not to think about it," he says. It's his attitude that will ensure he outlives me. By many, many years.

While I cannot imagine why a woman might be offended at a wolf-whistle, I think it's better -- and lots easier -- to just respect their wishes.

After all, isn't that the key word? Respect.

Even if you don't understand it.

Scott Moyers is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.

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