We've lived in the new millennium

long enough to make some determinations, and the most significant event

to realize: Woman has become man.

I first noticed this when arriving

at a get-together at my mother-in-law's house. As my family coincidently

drove up at the same time as other family members, I realized, like me,

my wife's brother was sitting in the passenger seat of their minivan.

He and I were both passengers. Our wives were driving.

The act of driving, long a

metaphor for gender balance (or imbalance) is only one example of the

shift in tides (or gears, as it were). Tracing the time line of the last

century, one can see that the automobile has always been a prime example

of male domination. Once, only men drove. Then slowly men gave over the

wheel. Then women actually started to acquire cars of their own. Today,

women typically hold the keys to the newest, most authoritative and most

expensive of vehicles on the road. Where men now ride, women drive.

I only notice this, as I all

too often sit in traffic in my late-model Dodge Neon, looking upward into

a wall of cell-phone-adorned feminine SUVs.

Much more has been given over

to the fairer sex too. Cursing was once the sole property of man. The

choice use of foul, inappropriate language was once a mainstay of manhood.

Thankfully, over the years as men have softened, so has our language.

But over the years as man has slowed in the fast lane of four-letter words,

woman has passed by on the shoulder, blowing the horn, tooting, and throwing

in an obscene gesture for good measure.

The entertainment media, being

what it is, is rife with current examples of 21st Century Female Man.

In the recent film "Panic Room," Jodie Foster matches wits and

brawn with three male criminals while her ex-husband spends most of the

movie and all of his time onscreen sitting in a chair, bloodied and impotent

to do much more than moan.

In the Emmy- and Golden Globe-winning

HBO series "Six Feet Under," Rachel Griffiths' character keeps

her man subservient with constant insults and put-downs only to hop into

bed and ask him quite seriously, "Will you be my wife?" He happily

accepts her proposal. And he seems to be the only non-gay man on the show.

Even simple sit-coms like "Everyone

Loves Raymond," "Friends" and "The King of Queens,"

feature their male characters only pretending to be in charge while the

women that surround them rule. To watch "Just Shoot Me" means

you see minuscule male Finch whine and hiss while Nina Van Horn struts

her sexual conquests in a way that would make Alex DeLarge from "A

Clockwork Orange" jealous.

One can only imagine what it

will be like when the Power Puff girls grow up.

Women have sacked many more

male-oriented institutions too. More women get tatoos today than men,

another male-only tradition just a few decades ago. In the past 100 years,

women have progressed from cutting their hair like men, wearing pants

like men and, like men, even start competing for the same dating pool.

The last bastion of manhood

might only be the TV remote control. But then again, men need it, sitting

home alone every Saturday night during "Ladies Night Out."

Where we once had a nation

of sympathy for Debbie Reynolds because of what that cad Eddie Fisher

did, now we have a whole country feeling sorry for Justin Timberlake because

of that scad Britney Spears.

So where does this leave men?

I'm not sure: I haven't found any brave enough to talk.