Every so often, a concept will spring up in a newspaper feature which, as it gets re-reported and discussed around the office water-cooler, becomes more than the sum of its parts.

The latest in this slightly inane succession of buzzwords is the man date. A bit like other rather vague media-coined concepts - Metrosexual, It girl, Peter Andre - you wonder whether the phenomenon exists in real life or just in the mind of a bored and deadline-stressed journalist.

I can relate to this. The times I've wished that my Wombles revival idea would gain legs so I can write a feature on it, I can't tell you. But this man date malarkey is pushing it.

I suppose I should explain what a man date is. It is nothing to do with the election, by the way. If you think I'm about to discuss the ins and outs of political authority to govern, you might want to hang on for Bolton Evening News columnist "Fiery" Fred Shawcross on Fridays.

Anyway, man dates. Last week, a New York Times article coined the term man date for an occasion when two heterosexual men take part in a social activity which does not involve work, sport or getting hammered on Guinness. It seems, according to the man date theory, that men are comfortable spending time with each other only if they have an excuse to do so. Football, a game of pool or wrestling a panther to the bloody death is fine. Tickets for the theatre, cocktails a deux or testing out the springs in Bensons for Beds are slightly trickier territory.

The theory continues that some men are uncomfortable doing anything as risque as visiting an art gallery with a male friend for fear that the wider world will think them gay.

I'm not sure that we are breaking much ground here. Men have traditionally socialised differently to women. Women prefer less clutter in their friendships, more talking. Any prop more demanding than a glass of wine detracts from dissecting life's great mysteries/ analysing the odd proposition she got last week from Barry in Human Resources. Men often prefer reasons to get together- such as learning the guitar or playing golf.

But given the blank looks I've been getting when running this idea of man dates past a selection of actual men, this doesn't preclude a meal or a visit to an art gallery - unless their culinary tastes stop at kebab meat and their cultural preferences begin and end with Match of the Day. Some guys can - whisper it - hold conversations, talk about their emotions and share a bottle of wine without feeling that they're compromising their masculinity.

The sad part is that some men who would like to meet up for actual human contact rather than to watch a ball being kicked around might genuinely fear that this makes them look gay, which suggests that their ideas of masculinity have been formed by watching Captain Caveman.

Ironically, this supposed masculine ideal is not in the least bit attractive to women, anyway.

Why do you think we spend so much time hanging out with gay men?