Machismo is a very hot commodity these days. UFC fights on the White House lawn. The Department Of Defense re-dubbed the Department Of War, helmed by a genuine red-bloodied he-man Secretary Of War (and don’t you dare call him by his acronym). He and his manly-man co-conspirators have been picking fights with any nation they feel they can beat up, while testing the troops for testosterone levels. Because you wouldn’t want one of those satanic sissies sneaking into the ranks, would you?

On cable TV, podcasts and Youtube, we’re constantly being told that society has become too feminized — a euphemism for castrated. We’re told that brute male force is what makes the world go around, and that feminism has been a cancer on society for daring to teach women that they might have a place in the world that is not subservient to males. (Just think how insecure, not to mention how unmasculine, you have to be in order to be live in terror of feminism.)

Of course, this machismo isn’t sold as machismo. It’s packaged as masculinity — a term that has been stretched out to swallow up toxic masculinity, which entails abusive male behavior toward females. According to the brave new world order, there’s no such thing as toxic masculinity; it’s just masculinity, period. And it’s a good thing, damn it. You’ll endure it and like it, or else.

If you’re of a certain age, you’ll recall what Americans refer to as the My Lai Massacre, which occurred during the Vietnam conflict. (It actually happened near the village of Son My, but American authorities, unable even to get it straight about the location their troops were ravaging, misidentified it as My Lai, and the name has stuck.) American soldiers destroyed the village, systematically and indiscriminately slaughtering hundreds of civilian men, women and children. The soldiers were men, you know, and that’s just what men do.

What isn’t so well publicized is that in the process, these red-blooded American troops also raped and tortured women and girls as young as twelve before murdering them. Although a total of one officer in command received a slap on the wrist for the killings, 27 others accused had charges dropped or were acquitted despite overwhelming evidence; at least 5 had been charged with sexual crimes. Hey, it always happens during war. After all, boys will be boys.

If a few billionaires rape underage girls, or well-connected frat boys rape female students, so what. Boys will be boys. It’s just what men do.

I must admit, however, that I am out of step with the times; accordingly, I have a rather different view of what men do, or at least what “real” men. In my estimation, you don’t indulge in ever more violent and toxic behavior in order to demonstrate that you’re a real man. Quite the opposite.

Not long ago, I was taking a walk in an empty hall in the lobby of the apartment building where I was living. It was a new apartment building, so the lobby was largely undeveloped, leaving this vast space with nothing in it, thus making it suitable for getting in some indoor pacing. (As I was recovering from eye surgery at the time, I didn’t want to take my stroll in the streets and be exposed to dust.) Since this chamber was unused, it was dimly lit.

Suddenly, a young woman who apparently also lived in the apartment building came down the stairs on her way out. It’s not hard to imagine that she might have had her Spidey sense activated, seeing a strange man (and I admit to being a bit strange) in front of her in this darkened hall, with no one else around.

But I didn’t have to think twice about what to do to put her mind at ease. I was already aware that women face these situations constantly. Being a female in a male-dominated world and a male-bullied society in which many men are trying to outdo each other for the honor of being most toxic, women must constantly be on alert, and avoid doing certain things that most men would do without a second thought — such as walking alone on a street at night. Many a time I’ve slackened my pace or made an unnecessary pause to put comfortable space between myself and a female who might fear that I was stalking her. I’ve even been known to cross the street when I had no other reason to.

So on this occasion, did I stride up to the young lady and say, “Hey babe, what’s up?” Or did I stand there staring at her and grinning? Or did I tell her to smile? Nope.

What I did was I promptly veered off and walked away from her path at a right angle, without altering my pace and without looking back.

Because that, my friends, is what real men do.