Click images for desktop size: "Ultimate Fantastic Four" by Marvel Comics Whenever you got a mess of guys together we only talk about four things: Sports (which includes cars - driving to work every day is a sport if you do it right), Money, and Women. Most often its about women. (The fourth topic is that there's always a mopey one who wants to talk about himself, usually about his problems with women. Sometimes his problem with A Woman, and sometimes his problem with THE Woman. You have to be careful talking about THE Woman as she may not know that she is THE Woman.)
The subject of women almost never encompasses women like Maria Fearing or Madame Curie or even Hilary Clinton. After the topic meanders from general "hotness" to "how many" (the old quality vs quantity discussions) invariably the mood shifts to, "What is their problem?"
In "What is their problem?" if the their were about an ethnic group, religious group or even a political organization there might be quiet tremors or excessive zeal in propounding vague and sketchy arguments that depend more on volume than on a distillation of available info. Most would find that sort of "their" to be offensive.
Because the "their" is women and because "they" outnumber us the subject seems to have no taboos. Except that mothers can only be revered to in properly reverential tones or mocked in such a way that well, its like the scene in "The Virginian": "Smile when you say that."
Other than that the topic is wide open, from physical displays to physical talents to finally, "I just don't get them."
(I've had to attend enough bridal and baby showers to know that men aren't alone in this. Most of the time I've been dismayed at how women can be even more graphic and detail oriented than men. Once I was eavesdropping and heard a friend girlfriend describe their sex life so completely I had to avoid him for months. He never did figure out what my problem with him was. I'm a guy and there are limits on how much I want to know about my friends. I've never eavesdropped since.)

Click images for desktop size: "Girl" by Vadimir Finally the conversation will finally turn to the "I just don't get them" topic. (This is "get them" in the understanding sense, not in the quantity sense.)
And we don't get them. Women bewilder us.
Guys can walk around for days and in all seriousness not have a thought in their heads. I call it "white noise". We don't think, we react and thrive on reflexes. we don't consider much and are usually surprised when our actions create a reaction.
The most intelligent thoughtful professor, psychiatrist, psychologists I know are all the same way. We can spend a week considering the deep thought like, "If I had a truck load of Dinty Moore stew, enough to last me a lifetime, would I be able to just check it all and go live in a cabin on top of a hill?"
Which is why when our girl friends ask us to pick up something at the store we will always forget. It doesn't fit into our Dinty Moore equation.
Of course their are the sensitive types in any group who'll go on and explain women to us. We usually glaze over and start thinking about last weeks game. For the rest of our lives we'll look a bit askance at the sensitive guy until we decide it was just his game to pull chicks.
Of course there was always one guy who listened in with a touch a amusement, a wry grin on his face and a soft look in his eyes.
We all knew what that all meant. He was in love and thought he knew something the rest of us didn't. He did.
The amusement was because he knew that sooner or later we would know what he knew. We would learn what he was learning.
When we had the knowledge it won't be as much fun to talk about women anymore. We might talk more about money or even (shudder) about ourselves.
We'd stop looking at every women we met as a challenge or a conquest. We'd start to see that women can be something more than that. Much more, they can even be friends.
They could be friends, lovers and something more. Something that is a necessary part of life. A person who shares with you and exposes her soul to you and looks into you and sees more of your soul than you ever thought you'd be comfortable allowing anyone to see.
And it's all right. In fact, its good.
And maybe I've become the guy with the amused attitude and the wry grin. Maybe I've finally learned what it means to love and be loved.