The old men and lawns thread triggered an association for me. When I was growing up the old guy that lived across the street was a walking-talking-breathing embodiment of the stereotype hinted at in that thread. This guy would stand in the middle of his front lawn with a garden hose ‘watering the grass’ for extended periods of time. He usually wore a sleeveless white (‘wife beater’) tee shirt, shabby straw hat, shorts (revealing his spindly legs and knobby knees), black dress socks, and wingtip shoes. While I never witnessed him yell at any kids to ‘get off my lawn’ it would have been completely in character for him to do so, as he generally tended to be cantankerous, and I did once see him go absolutely ballistic the day some kids broke his garage window. Anyhow, to complete the picture, he had a photograph of Ronald Reagan (“the best goddam President since Coolidge”) visible in his front hallway and owned a behemoth Buick 225 with whitewall tires that he hardly ever drove but washed and waxed practically every time he did so.
If that isn’t a stereotype, I don’t know what is. Thing is, there’s no embellishment in that description. And I’m certain he was blissfully unaware that any such stereotype existed.
Have you ever personally known someone who was a living caricature, and if so, do you think that had any awareness at all of this fact?
I know a woman - sometimes colorfully dyed hair, bisexual, hair often cut like a man’s, uber-feminist, posts frequently on Facebook, about LGBT, BLM, patriarchy, etc., claims to be genderqueer or non-gendered, in her 20s, rails against many Christians, etc.
While on vacation years ago, we drove through Cheyenne, Wyoming. Walking on the street I saw a real-life, actual cowboy. Not just a yahoo who liked wearing the hat and boots, but a cowboy.
Although he wasn’t old, he was wrinkled from the sun, as well as brown as a catcher’s mitt. He was rather bow-legged and wore ancient jeans, real Levi’s 501s (said my husband). He wore one of those shirts that buttons way over to one side - whatever they’re called. He was carrying his saddle and tack.
I know, if you’re going to see a real cowboy, Cheyenne is the place to find them. I was glad I saw him. He looked like he walked right out of a Zane Grey novel.
A friend of mine in HS’s dad divorced his mom, and started hanging out with a new GF. Both his mom, and the new GF, were living stereotypes in different ways (the dad was too strange to fit any single mold).
The mom was the epitome of the alcoholic abuser. Too depressing to review in any detail - suffice it to say she was on a path to self-destruction and ensured everyone knew it. Typical statement to her son: “I drink because you don’t love me”.
The new GF was the perfect example of the right-wing caricature of the welfare queen, with the sole exception that she was White. She had never worked a day in her life, legally at least - yet managed to be first on every social program that paid something; her daughters all imitated her. She did some drug dealing on the side, but her main source of income, public assistance aside, was hooking up with guys with some cash and milking them for as long as it lasted (that’s how she met the dad).
Neither thought of themselves as living stereotypes, naturally. The first thought she was hard done by - it was literally everyone elses’ fault that she was an alcoholic - she was hard done by. The second thought of herself that she was a free spirit, untrammeled by society’s hypocritical requirements: work was slavery, and she was having none of that.
I hate to add to homophobia, but I knew a diesel dyke once who was well, that. In every way. Nice person though. She knew what she was and accepted it.
I went to lunch today with a friend of mine who was born in China, but came to the U.S. as a teenager. She has medium length blunt cut black hair with bangs straight across her forehead. She wears cute little baby doll dresses every day. She is obsessed with Hello Kitty, and her cubicle is filled with every type of Hello Kitty gadget. She speaks in a high-pitched voice with a heavy Chinese accent. I won’t post her real name, but it fits perfectly with her character (think something like Rainbow Blossom).
She’s a very nice, intelligent person who seems to be good at her job, but sometimes I just have to sit back and marvel that she exists in the middle of corporate America, and not in an animated Hello Kitty cartoon.
Matt Groening has stated "I can’t tell you how many people have come up to me and said ‘I know who you based the Comic Book Guy on–The Comic Book guy down the street.’ I tell them “No, it’s every comic book guy in America.”
I once knew a Comic Book store employee who was a Comic Book Guy.
Back in the day when I was addicted to Magic the Gathering, I went to a comic book shop to look for singles. The shop owner was every bit the fat opinionated dingy troll as CBG from The Simpsons without the facial hair, probably because he lacked the testosterone to grow any. A dorky guy with crooked black horn-rimmed glasses was cleaning the front door with Windex and paper towels, every bit the socially awkward nerd stereotype. Dorky guy was apparently the the fat fuck’s bitch.
As the fat fuck was gabbing to another customer, he all the sudden bellowed “Way to not get the whole door, Aaaa-ronnn!” Dorky guy just kind of mumbled and looked for the spots he missed. “Oh my God, it’s right there in front of you! Are you blind?”
I bought a single for something like $7. “Oh good,” remarks fat fuck. “I can buy dinner tonight!” He seemed to think this was something clever that everybody was supposed to laugh at, and when they didn’t, he repeated the line a couple more times. Why oh why did I buy from that fat fuck?