was she really going out with him?

During that same productive final discussion with Juan, he said something that made me think of the classic song Is She Really Going Out with Him? (see below). Jo Jackson, if you're reading this, did you write that song for me? Could you predict, back in 1979, that Juan would tell me

I want to be the one who works. And I want the woman to take care of the house. I like a woman who cooks and cleans. Like my ex, she had her problems, but if I was hungry, she'd have a plate of food ready for me... But you, you're there for me if I need to talk. But, I need to be the one who works.

Wow. I don't know if I was more struck by 1) the fact that I had made a major scientific discovery: I had found, in the heart of Manhattan, a surviving member of a species long considered extinct: The Neanderthal. 2) the fact that Juan was open about his Neanderthal heritage. 3) Or the fact that the Neanderthal with whom I was speaking was, or had been, my Neanderthal. I responded

Well, if there's any advice I could give you, it's that, if, in the future, you're choosing between a woman who gives you food and a woman who is there for you emotionally... you can cook your own fucking food.

What I should have said was

You see, when we were Neanderthals, being with a Neanderthalette who would stay at home and tend to your hairy monster babies, while you went off to kill mammoths and dodo birds, made sense. You would bring home the bacon (or bison) and she would have a steaming plate of mammoth stew waiting for you at home. And then you would run away from a pack of wild animals or mate or practice the ritual defleshing of your prey that you were so good at. But today, it doesn't make as much sense. Because if you, after a long day of security guarding, come home to a plate of food served to you by a woman who grunts and still can't get over how cool fire is, you're probably not going to be that happy.

Anyway. Food for thought. Jo Jackson, take it away.