What is the first thing you think of or visualize when the name John Wayne is mentioned? Probably not that he had small feet for such a large person. Probably it's the imagery of "macho" man. No disrespect is intended Mr. Wayne, but that model has done at least as much harm as good. Being "macho" has come to mean tough, perhaps rough, indestructible, mildly inscrutable; with emotions under control and not needing anyone. You live that life, you smoke those cigarettes, you eat all the beef you want and, unlike the men Gail Sheehy spoke with when researching Men's Passages, the first heart attack is not a "warning" - it's terminal. But even without such a dire outcome, the popular image known as "John Wayne" is a poor role model.

Many of the men currently in their midlife years had, as children and teenagers, some version of the John Wayne tough and solitary male as a role model - a model that may be characterized as the "socialable loner." This could have been their father or some character they conjured. This is a counter-productive posture or persona. Even the Lone Ranger had a partner.

Generally, our society engenders in women a sense of connectedness resulting in an affinity for accommodating affiliation and relationships that may not be as familiar - or comfortable - for men. Connectedness is very different from personability - or charm (or "bonding.") Many social and behavioral scientists believe this capacity for connectedness may account, at least in part, for women's longevity as compared to men's. As their social circumstances are changed by the loss of their intimate partner, siblings and other family members, and friends; women are usually more able - have been prepared better - to manage these changes. As the midlife man begins a shift to a more expressive persona, ("gender shift"), the relationship he may need to attend to as crucial to the process is his relationship with his father - even if his father is deceased. (People die; relationships go on…)

Harry Chapin got to the core of this with his song Cat's in the Cradle. When a man wants to be and express his more affiliative self and cannot, it may be because his father (either biological or otherwise his primary male parent), was not an expressive male either. If the man in your life is having a difficult time with expressive feelings and expressing his needs, reflect on the type of person (the) father was. And, it is not about whether (the) father was a "good" person - but, rather, was he able to connect, be loving, show affection, really "be there" by being emotionally available. [Think about the dialogue, "How come you don't tell me that you love me?" "Love you? I go to work every day and support you, don't I?"]

An emotionally unavailable father represents a deficit in his [male] child/ren termed "father hunger." Men often arrive at a point in their lives when expressiveness becomes important either because of the death of their father, birth of their first grandchild, and/or the loss - voluntarily or otherwise - of their job. Any or all of these communicate both the passage of time and mortal reality of life. Taking stock of one's life is one common and purposeful reaction. Often this is not easy.

Professor Sam Osherson authored a fine book on the topic of father hunger. It's titled Finding Our Fathers. In it, he talks about the "wounded father" - the male parent who never learned or received expressed love from his father, and passes this deficit on by not being emotionally available to his son(s). And so it goes. The "new male" may not have this problem. In the meantime, you're engaged with the midlife man who may. He may not even be able to articulate the problem, or acknowledge the symptoms; and he probably is not interested in trotting off to a men's movement event with drum beating and sweat lodges.

While you cannot rewind his earlier years, you can help him recognize the situation and begin to deal with it. It's not about how fast he can zip through the drive-thru; it's about the missed hugs of his childhood and early adulthood - and coming to terms with the father who wasn't really there.