By Jeffrey Landi

When you're on the road for a long time, you notice a lot of things. And though every country is unique, common images persist. Patterns ebb and flow. We notice these sometimes trivial nuances because they stand out and contradict what our eyes are used to seeing. That is the beauty of travel.

During our trip around the world, my wife and I were struck by a phenomenon that started mildly in northern Europe, gained considerable strength in southern Europe, peaked in the Middle East, endured throughout Asia though on a declining scale, then petered out in Australia and New Zealand. A perfect bell curve. I call it the "Male Art of Doing Nothing."

Imagine driving around the sun-baked countryside of Tuscany, or dropping in on little whitewashed villages in southern Spain. You approach these small towns with a true sense of excitement, because to you they feel untouched by the swarms of big city tourists. You negotiate your car through curvy, uphill entrances, until you reach an open area or central square. There you will typically find the following things: the old town church, maybe an information center, a few shops, a few cafes or bars?

And men.

Groups of them, sitting. Some with hats on, some not. Some with canes, some not. Drinking beer, drinking wine, drinking nothing. Talking, not talking. And despite the picture I've just painted here, the male sport of inertia is not restricted to provincial towns. It is pervasive.

It makes sense that more men hang around in southern Europe than in the northern regions. The climate is better and the pace of life is noticeably slower. In Italy and Spain the men seem to drink vino and talk a lot, sometimes quite heatedly. I only wish I knew what they were gossiping about. As we moved east into Greece and Turkey, backgammon took over. Speed rounds on handsome old wooden game tables with tiny dice. The beverages got clearer and more potent.

Male leisure in the Middle East has a different flavor. Egyptians sit around cafes or their storefronts and smoke sheesha pipes. The tobacco burns all day long as they watch the traffic roll by. They're not afraid of going at it alone, either. They prefer tea and they like to spit. We did this too, but it got too hot for us. It's hard to take the heat of Luxor in mid-August, but a great way to meet the locals.

Asian men usually do leisure in packs, but they seemed to be more focused on the tourist. Buy this, check out that, or the ever-popular let's take a picture together.

So where are the women? Working? Busy at home? Maybe they're closet loungers? The answer to this question is more obvious in certain cultures than others, but it's apparently just not the way of things. Luckily for my wife, as a tourist she was able to participate in the inactivity, wherever possible. You shouldn't be afraid to join these circles. Rich experiences lie within them.

I suggest the Men of the States join this global movement. Let's shift away from the solitary couches and TVs that keep us apart and band together in front of our own cafes and bars. We can do it--I know we can. We're men!