Dave Smith reflects on those beacons of light to which all young boys turn their adoring gaze, for a short while, anyway - role models
Dave Smith
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The Fonz has got a lot to answer for. Never mind that he was clearly the wrong side of forty, wearing brushed denim jeans, and still hanging out with students. For years, he made it seem perfectly acceptable for boys everywhere to deal with any emotional or personal crisis, by simply saying, "Heee-ey, I'm the Fonz", whilst jabbing both thumbs in the air. He made life easy. No introspection or wit required.
I've often wondered why some men of my age have emerged from their formative years as emotional pygmies, and then look at some of the decidedly iffy role models we've had to look up to. My role models fell into four simple categories: cool, funny, tough or attractive to women.
Like a lot of men, for the first few years of my life, I thought my Dad was the pinnacle of all that was good about men. You know - tall, reliable, strong, nice sensible slacks. Enviable qualities, but unfortunately they fell short of the 'big four', so he had to go.
Dad's place was taken over by Bugs Bunny. Without realising it, I'd been carefully modelling the way I spoke and acted on a cartoon rabbit. Bugs was funny and was a winner. However desperate his situation he would always manage to say something amusing. I also noticed that getting laughs got me lots of attention.
Although a fickle youth, my role models changing by the week, there is one man who remained constant in my heart - James Bond. Like the Fonz, he too made life simple. It seemed that as long as you had gadgets and could wear a safari suit with no sense of irony, then women would fall at your feet, and you would get kissed on the lips about every half an hour.
Tragically, I, like many, was led to believe that the way to a woman's heart is by impressing her with gadgetry, and that owning a brief-case which may or may not conceal a self-assembling hang-glider, is a step in the right direction. More role models came and went; The Six Million Dollar Man, Daffy Duck, Clint Eastwood, the bloke with all the chat who used to deliver the bananas to my mate's greengrocers, Edmund Blackadder, Michael Owen - the list goes on, and I copy all of them.
Still, as long as I'm under forty and they're still showing re-runs of Happy Days, there'll always be someone I can look up to and say, "Yeah, that's what I want to be like!…Heee-ey!"
