Let's Talk about Porn

My first exposure to porn was when I was eleven years old. A father two house down had a huge Playboy collection. We would sit in his garage attic and smoke cigarettes and look at Playboy magazines. Old school pubic hair. Which, of course, I still prefer. I mean hairlessness wasn’t really “in” until the 90’s, beyond my formative years. Don’t get me wrong. Hair, no hair; it’s call good..

By the time I was fifteen we lived in a different state and I would ride my bicycle up to the Stop ‘N Go and buy Penthouse magazines. Don’t ask me why they sold Penthouse to a fifteen year old. I guess they wanted the money.

When I was seventeen I saw my first porn movie. One of my older sisters called the house. She was out drinking with a friend and they decided they had never seen a porn movie and wanted to see one, and thought I could help. We belonged to a video store club and they had an adult section, which I had never entered. I was a regular there and only one year shy of 18, so no problems there. I rented Champagne for Breakfast. 70’s style porn with a storyline, which wasn’t half bad, really. I called a friend and we (he, I, sister, sister’s friend) watched it. Each of us sitting there in quiet trying to pretend we were alone. I am happy to report that no Penthouse Forum moments grew from this porn viewing.

In college we used to have Q&P Parties (quarters and porn). We’d play a porn movie on mute, crank up some music, and play quarters. We also played cards. They were smaller parties, and not always just a bunch of guys. During my first year in college there was a very old theater across the street that would show porn movies at midnight on weekends. I went twice, I think. The entertainment was everyone yelling out jokes about the movie, trying to elicit laughs.

In the 90’s, before I got myself an internet dial-up connection you would sometimes hear news stories about all the porn on the internet. Naturally, when I did get on the internet, I went in search of porn. It was not easy to find. There were no all-encompassing search engines like Google. Web sites had to be posted or advertised on sites like Yahoo. But I finally did find a site, which linked to other sites. Just about all of the internet porn back then were scans from magazines. Now, of course, just about any search will get you some porn in your results. It is no longer “ how can I find porn,” it is now “how can I not find porn.”

Can’t say I peruse porn as much as I used to. Now and then I hit a tangent and go on a little viewing run. Is this another example of youth being wasted on the young? I suppose by the time I am 80 the pendulum will swing back and I will be all into it.

The problem with porn today is that it lacks eroticism and sensuality. It’s just human bodies having sex, and usually in ways that regular people don’t because they aren’t doing it for pleasure they are doing it for the camera. The end result is some people expect their sexual experiences to match porn sex; or worse, they learn sex from porn sex.

So. Porn. Look at it. Or not.

National Masturbation Month

May is National Masturbation Month. Were you aware of this? Or were you too busy self-servicing to hear the good news? BTW, who says May is National Masturbation Month? Good Vibrations (purveyor of sex toys and stroking-it devices) does, that’s who. Since 1995 even!

A brief history: In 1994, then surgeon general Joycelyn Elders, when queried about rubbing one out, said it was natural and perhaps should be part of sex education. Then, basically, she got fired. So, in part, as a response to those against jerking off and I am sure in support of their business of selling self-love gear, National Masturbation Month was born.

I never heard of it until this year … never heard of National Masturbation Month, that is. I am familiar enough with beating the meat, being a man of the male persuasion and all. I am sure they have a marketing problem since many mainstream media this-and-that are not gonna be much interested in promoting the choking of chickens. But Twitter is good for something I guess, because Twitter is where I discovered this celebration of solo pleasuring.

Like any national month for anything, the whole point is you don’t do it for just that month, but it raises your awareness of said subject so you do it year round! The best thing about the promotion of spanking the monkey is it doesn’t have to cost anything! Most national this or that months involve buying some product, or spending money in some way. No need to spend money to polish the knob. Although, some clean-up may be necessary, depending upon your chosen method of whacking off. But you were already going to do laundry anyway, right?!

Of course, you are welcome to include toys and props in your quest for joy by your own hand. So spend away if needed. The choice is yours!

Apparently there are many benefits to taking care of yourself (wink wink nudge nudge), but I leave it to you to google “benefits of masturbation” for a plethora of reading material.

Now, get busy and give yourself an orgasm tonight. And tomorrow night. And the day after tomorrow. Etc., etc., etc.

Stain Your Fence

“You must stain your fence.” Oh, really? The only stains around here are on bed sheets and under the rim of the toilet. I might normally say carpet stains, but I steam cleaned my carpet recently. Actually, under the rim of the toilet is calcium or some such water stain, and looks like it might require a hammer and chisel to dislodge. And the sheets, well, I wash them regular.  :-)

I recall receiving mail from my home owner’s association (yeah, I know). It talked about how if you got a new fence then you must use this type of stain, and if you repaired your fence then that kinda stain. Since I had done neither I simply filed it away under Stains, Non-biological. Now I get this certified letter in the mail. FINAL NOTICE, it says. Stain your fence, it says. Then continues to mention the whole new/repair thing.

Clearly, my HOA wants me to stain my fence. Why they can’t just straight-up tell me to stain my fence, I do not know. Why must they mask it behind “new” and “repair?” Is my fence in need of repair? Do I need a new fence? I guess I should not overestimate the communicative ability of my HOA. They may very well be telling me to repair or get a new fence, and are embedding the message behind two layers of confusion: stain and if this or that.

I went out back and looked at my fence. Being a townhouse fence, it isn’t much to look at. There is my one runt of tree, planted by the builders, that I saved from certain death my first few months in the house. The runt of a tree holds bastion over a patch of grass as dwindling as patches of pubic hair in our current culture. Being tall and all I can peer down the row of backyards and no one else’s fence appears to be stained. Did they receive letters? I will not ask. I only know one neighbor (another sign of our current culture?), a retired couple, and last time I knocked on their door it took them 20 seconds to remember I was the guy from next door.

“Stain your fence because it looks weathered.” Why couldn’t they just say that? I chemical peal my face when it looks weathered. I stain my teeth white when they look weathered. I un-stain my sheets whey they look weathered. Here is a concept I can understand. “The rain and sprinklers have marred the look of your fence. Please stain your fence, so the townhouse backyards are homogenous and regimented, like rows of recently shorn vaginas, nondescript in their alikeness.” Why couldn’t they just say that?

So. This weekend I will be staining my fence; it’s current personality and visual texture will be glossed over, air-brushed out. Someone, somewhere, will be pleased.

Random Thoughts

Regarding former Arkansas coach Bobby Patrino and Jessica Dorrell. (Spellcheck doesn’t like either last name.) I see comments on articles or on message boards where some express surprise at why an attractive 25 year old was giving it up to a not so good looking 51 year old. It’s not like he is George Clooney or Brad Pitt, or something. Really? Some people can’t figure this out? Younger women are always getting with older men. Money, power, celebrity status. Patrino had all three in Arkansas. Others express surprise at the piggish nature of men. Oh really? Pretty commonly heard that men are pigs and people act surprised when a man acts like one?

Apparently there is an App that will measure vibrations on the Richter Scale. If you are unlucky enough to have that App up and running when an earthquake hits you can send an immediate iReport to CNN on the strength of the tremor. I can think of a better use. Place your phone (or other device) on the bed (or washing machine, or couch, or car, or wherever) while you are having sex. See what you get on the Richter Scale and post to Facebook and/or Twitter! Just remember it is exhibition, not a competition. Please, no wagering.

I believe that we overuse the word that. We seem to sprinkle it throughout conversations, and in writing. I have begun to pay attention when I use the word that. I go ahead and write the sentence then I reread it and see if I can remove the that. You must be able to remove that completely, like in the first sentence of this paragraph. As opposed to having to swap that out for another word. Of course, I still like it when I can reasonably use a double that. That is always amusing.

Monday morning you reorient yourself to the tasks at hand. You catch up on email the workaholics sent over the weekend. You stare at your weekly calendar for 30 minutes. To avert a case of the Mondays there is a good chance someone brought in food. You make the social rounds asking about everyone’s weekend and keep an eye out for munchies.

Tuesday you think about doing actual work, but only if someone is waiting on it.

Wednesday might be your most productive day. You are over the distraction of the past weekend, and not quite dreaming of the next.

Thursday you finish things up because who wants lots to do on a Friday?

Friday is another day people usually bring in food, so you look around. You spend most of your time thinking about what you will be doing Friday night and over the weekend, interlaced with mindless busy work.

Spring Break from Hell

It has been 17 years since I went skiing, and my kids have never been. We have talked about it in recent years, and this year I decided to fork over the Benjamin’s for the three of us to go skiing in Breckenridge, CO. I booked essentially a hotel room (no kitchen, yes small fridge) within walking distance of Peak 9. I attempted to mitigate some of the cost by flying at less desirable times: early and late. Leave on a Sunday (early), four full ski days, return on a Friday (late).

Fudge It Number 1 – Flying In

I made the mistake of going with a 6AM flight on the Sunday morning of daylight savings, which really makes it a 5AM flight. Great! So, we get up at what feels like 02:45 (actually 03:45) so we can drive to, park at, shuttle in, check bags, clear security, and board plane for what feels like a 05:00 (actually 06:00) flight. Daylight savings plus a one hour time zone change plus being tired sometimes threw me for a loop when wondering what time it felt like.

Historical Note: for Spring Break 1989 me and 9 college friends drove from College Station, TX to Destin, FL, leaving late on Friday night. We thought it was cool to drive all night.

Fudge It Number 2 – Wasted Time

My first day thinking was as follows: fly in early, rent car, drive to Breckenridge with potential for bad weather and roads, take our time, get the lay of the town, pick-up ski rentals, check-in, shop for supplies, have a relaxed evening. The weather was warm and sunny. The roads were totally clear. I knew check-in was later in the afternoon, but hoped they would put our room at the top of the list since we stopped by the office early morning. The folks behind the desk had the same expectation. After farting around town for as long as possible, and in my tired/board state buying a nice, expensive pair of sunglasses I will probably wear 10 times over the next 30 years, we crashed in front of the desk, waiting. The desk crew thought the room would be ready. Alas, it was not. We waited. They even gave us a complimentary bottle of wine and some chocolate and nuts (which we never did drink or eat).

Historical Note: for Spring Break 2010 the kids and I went to Las Vegas. I went with Circus Circus because I thought it might be more kid-friendly. Mistake. Place is a dump, the casino is lame, and it is far from the main action.

Fudge It Number 3 – Broken Remote

On the night of our arrival we watched The Walking Dead. I was scanning channels via the remote control channel up button when it just stopped working. The little red light would light up for any button pushed, but nothing happened.

Related Note: They no longer get to watch TV in the post-apocalyptic world of The Walking Dead. 

Fudge It Number 4 – Broken Ribs

First day skiing in 17 years. Did one green, then bunches of blues, and two blacks. On the second black, which I really didn’t intend to take but took a crosscut too far, tragedy ensued. Just a bad luck fall, really. It was icy and I lost it. Skied down the mountain. Carried skis back to room. It just got more and more painful. ER later that night. Three broken ribs, 4th, 5th, and 6th.

Historical note: Spring Break 1986 in Galveston. We were staying in a bayside house, along a boat channel. First day we were jumping from the top of the house into the channel. Climbing out of the water I kicked an underwater post. Four stitches on the bottom of my foot.

Fudge It Number 5 – Broken Remote, again

The TV remote in my ER room stopped working. If I pressed channel up or down it would turn off. I was thinking, ‘What is the freaking deal with TV remotes in Colorado?!?”

Related Note: I never have problems with remotes at home.

Fudge It Number 6 – Oxygen Tank

The altitude combined with me not breathing normally resulted in an 85% oxygen level. I had to carry around a tank with that damn tube in my nose.

Historical Note: I was once kicked out of Pat O’Brien’s in the French Quarter. I had to carry around that stigma until I changed shirts, removed the bandana from my head, and could re-enter without being recognized.

Fudge It Number 7 – Hot Room (but not yoga)

The thermostat was set to off, but there was still residual heat from the radiator. The room would get hot, and uncomfortable.

Note: By this time I was thinking I should have gone with my other Spring Break idea, taking in some shows in New York City.

Fudge It Number 8 – Claustrophobia

On my second night with broken ribs I awoke at 2AM. I was in bed on my back. I could not lay on either side; couldn’t really move at all. I was very hot, my underside was sweating. The back of my shirt was wet and clammy. I had that oxygen tube in my nose. My throat was dry, and also felt compressed. I had to get up. I HAD TO GET UP!

Historical Note: one weekend in college, in-between terms, with a bunch of people crashing at one apartment, I was prompted to get up. I did get up, and left, and returned two hours later covered in mud. Got no idea what happened.

Fudge It Number 9 – Pay the Piper

On my second night with broken ribs. At 4AM. I decided I wanted to go home two days early. I was certainly done, and the kids were done if I couldn’t ski with them. Got partial refunds on some things, but had to pay out the wazoo for the change in flights, both a change fee and a ticket cost difference.

Historical Note: The first time I ever flew was to Phoenix to attend a summer camp in Arizona. I was 12 and flew alone. They dropped the ball on the hand-off and the camp rep could not pick me out of the crowd. I got my trunk and then just sat around. I called my parents collect and was just beginning to panic when a cop came along to help me out.

Fudge It Number 10 – Bumpy Rides Suck

I parked remotely at the airport, so we took the shuttle. That damn thing bounced around like a stagecoach on a back road. Very painful on the broken ribs. I stood most of the way. Lots of curves, and those hurt some, too; the lateral stress.

Unrelated Note: … and the one-legged jockey said, “Don’t worry about me. I ride side-saddle!”

Who can you trust?

Actually, it is not WHO can you trust; it is WHAT can you trust. You can’t trust a person, but you can trust what they are.

You ever thought about how much we trust as we drive our cars about roads and highways? Travelling at high speeds in heavy vehicles just feet from other vehicles, and sometimes those vehicles are travelling in the opposite direction. How do we do this with confidence? Because we trust that other drivers are looking out for themselves. We trust that other drivers do not want an accident, or injury, or death. Just as we don’t want those things. We trust in the self-serving nature of humans.

So on the roads and highways; so in life.

Trust is considered an important component in any relationship. What exactly are we trusting? We trust the other person will keep our best interests in the forefront of their thinking and behavior. We trust they will not hurt us. We trust they will provide us support and comfort. We trust they will not offend or betray us. We want that in our relationships.

Can you really trust another person to always keep your best interests in mind? The answer has to be no. What you can trust, however, is that a person will always keep their best interests in mind. In terms of a relationship how can you know if you can trust what a person is? How can you have confidence in the other person’s interests?

I could talk about mutual concerns and activities while respecting differences. I could talk about building a life together so you are “in the same boat.” I could talk about controlling what you can control, leading by example; you be there for the other, you be loyal, you earn trust. But our society is replete with examples of broken trust where the above conditions existed.

How can you trust?

Let’s close with a quote from Star Trek: The Next Generation:

RIKER: In all trust there is the possibility of betrayal. I’m not sure you were prepared for that.

DATA: Were you prepared, sir?
RIKER: I don’t think anybody ever is.
DATA: Then it is better not to trust?
RIKER: Without trust there is no friendship, no closeness. None of the emotional bonds that make us who we are.
DATA: And yet you put yourself at risk.
RIKER: Every single time.

Every single time.

Something To Talk About

It has been suggested I blog about something more personal. What can be more personal than sharing inane mental ramblings? Most bloggers, it seems, are either wanna-be journalists, pushing some agenda, or those whose blogs are more like diary entries.

Fine. Let’s talk about my love life. Is that personal enough for ya?! I’ll just throw out some stories and we’ll see what lands.

When it comes to dating I always seem to have no choices, or multiple choices. Never is it so easy as having one person I find interesting. There is either none, zero, zilch, or there is two or more. How long do I string each along before making a choice? I can tell you right now, I always choose too early. I am no good at stringing along.

I met this one woman; let’s call her Rockwall Girl. Rockwall Girl and I got along well enough. A good rapport. Within days I met a second woman; let’s call her Frisco Girl. Frisco Girl was going well, too. After going out with each, I eventually felt compelled to choose. I was leaning toward Rockwall Girl, and there was talk of “escalation.” But then spent time with Frisco Girl and I’m thinking it is going really good. As I said, I felt compelled to choose.

I speak with Rockwall Girl and tell her that any talk of “escalation” is just that, talk; that I was going to move on down the road. The next time I go out with Frisco Girl she does a brave and right thing and informs me she has herpes. We have a discussion about it. I do some research on it. Nope. Just couldn’t pull the trigger on that. Sorry, Frisco Girl.

To me, I was never supposed to get together with Rockwall Girl. Frisco Girl came along to stop that from happening. But, I wasn’t supposed to get together with Frisco Girl, either. Her job done, she has herpes to put the nip in that bud. Things ended up just as they are supposed to be. Alone.

I am just not that into her. This happens to me frequently. While I want a relationship, I don’t need one, so I don’t go out with someone just because I can.  I don’t date just to date, and the consequence is that I let burgeoning relationships die on the vine because I am apparently not that into her. Two cases in point, several years apart.

Wine Girl. What was not to like about Wine Girl? We went out several times, including bowling with her kids, and she did something nice on my birthday. Then one day I realize it had been two weeks since I had spoken to her. I figured if I went two weeks without thinking to call her, or going out with her, then clearly I wasn’t interested. Like a default decision. 

Lake Girl and I seemed to hit it off well, in some ways we got along very well. Again, what was not to like? Again, I simply lost interest and motivation; regardless of how much I thought I liked her.

Let’s put this another way. Perhaps I suck at dating. That is not to say I am wet rag on dates. Quite the contrary, if I say so myself. I just suck at getting to know someone through dating. My preference is to get to know someone in a more casual setting, without any expectations. Whenever I have felt strongly about someone it has been when I have gotten to know them in a setting other than going on dates. Invariably they are not available, or not interested. Perhaps things are as they are supposed to be. Alone.

Let’s finish with some quickies …

Class Girl. This was a case of too much information too soon. I need to not spill my guts so much. 

College Girl. An abrupt reverse course. Lead me down one path and then didn’t like it when I embraced it.

Running Girl. Awesome. She might had been available, but she thought I was 10 years younger than I am (which makes her very generous!).

Experiment Girl. I waffled too much, but then there wasn’t really much there, aside from the experiment.

Lonely Girl. Kind of depressing, really. Not a good idea. 

Navy Girl. Not a good match, we both agreed. But we did try.

Flower Girl. Game player? Says one thing, does another, but seems genuinely conflicted.

Next Girl. Should there even be a next girl? Maybe I will join a convent. Alone.

Cheers!

If I Were Dictator

If I ruled the world, was king of the throne …

Everyone would wear their ages on their foreheads. I am done with guessing. Done trying to figure out who looks good for their age, and who doesn’t. Done with looking at 20 year old boys and thinking they are in high school, and done with looking at 16 year old girls and thinking they are 25.

All cars would have the gas cap on the same side of the vehicle, the driver’s side. No more pulling into a gas station with cars facing the opposite direction and you have to drive around and maneuver your car next to the gas pump.

Grocery stores have to follow the same basic layout. You can walk into any store and quickly figure out where things are.

Cars would have LED displays on them which say where you are going, and where you have been.

Just left: mistress

Going to: work

Just left: gynecologist

Going to: bar

Absolutely no advertising during a TV show or TV movie. No little animations down in the corner. No telling us what is up next, and on tomorrow night, or whatever.

Quantity discounts are required in increments of 5 units. If I buy five of one item then it has to have a lower per unit cost then buying just one. Buying 10 has to have a lower per unit cost than buying 5. This goes for services, too, which is by month.

 
All cars would be bumper cars. Then you can bump into someone with no worries. Bump, get bumped, drive on.

Ever See a Three-legged Dog?

Have you ever seen a three-legged dog? I have. Do you know what three-legged dogs do? They carry on. Three-legged dogs accept their circumstances. Three-legged dogs adapt. Three-legged dogs carry on. Do you what three-legged dogs don’t do? They don’t feel sorry for themselves, they don’t expect sympathy from others, and they don’t expect praise or recognition for carrying on with three legs. 

Imagine a world where the attitude of people are as enduring and resilient as that of a three-legged dog. Of course, there are some like this now. Some who accept, and adapt, and carry on. But many more who do not.

Do I really need to list all the ways in which we are not as good as a three-legged dog? We look outside ourselves for who to blame. We look outside ourselves for who is going to help us. We become angry and bitter at what has happened to us, how we were treated (or ignored).

Have you lost something in your life? It could be anything. From an actual leg, to property, money, status, a relationship, or a loved one. Whatever challenges you have faced, and whether or not the result was as you wanted, are you able to accept the outcome? Adapt and carry-on? Are you are as good as a three-legged dog?

What? Who?

There are two ways in which people are attracted to someone: based on WHAT they are, and based on WHO they are. In my experience most people care more about the WHAT than the WHO.

WHAT is temporary. WHAT is possessions. As in WHAT a person has. Does a person have money. Does a person have fame. Does a person have a nice car. How does a person dress. What is a person’s appearance. What are a person’s activities and hobbies. It is all about WHAT you can do with a person, or WHAT they can do for you.

Do I even need to tell you? Of course, this is shallow. Of course, this is America! We are all about the WHAT. From our personal and professional relationships, to pop culture and entertainment, and especially our politics.

Back to relationships. WHAT is temporary. When you base your reason on being with someone because of WHAT they are, and WHAT changes (as it usually does) then you find yourself not so interested anymore. Because you don’t care about WHO the person is, you only care about the WHAT.

WHAT is transferable. If you are not getting WHAT you want from the person you are with, then you feel justified in finding WHAT you want with someone else.

WHO a person is. That is what really matters. And when they (whoever they are) speak of true love, what they really mean is being with someone because of WHO they are. That means you still want to be with them over the years, with all the changes to WHAT; regardless of the WHAT.

WHAT is essentially unhappiness, because WHAT is in continual search of happiness.

WHO is happiness; happiness in WHO you are, and happiness in WHO you are with.

Sit ‘n Go (humor)

(envisioned as a commercial, maybe on SNL)

FADE IN

Professionally dressed man and woman. Smiling. Enthusiastic. Chipper.

MAN: CEO’s, presidents, owners, and managers. Have you ever noticed how much time your employees spend visiting the restroom?

WOMAN: Coffee. Donuts. Breakfast burritos. Soft drinks. Water. Mexican food for lunch. It’s all gotta come out sometime!

MAN: Now you can increase worker productivity by eliminating those wasteful trips to expel bodily waste.

WOMAN and MAN: With the new Sit ‘n Go!!

Video display of what appears to be a motorized chair. It conceals a person’s body from the waist down. It folds open along the front, with a toilet seat inside. The video shows a man fold it open, turn around, bend over and drop his pants and underwear to the floor, sit inside, and then fold it closed. The man begins to steer the Sit ‘n Go with a joy stick, out of this office and down the hall.

MAN (voiceover): The Sit ‘n Go’s ergonomic design is adaptable and comfortable to any body type and size. It can easily navigate office doorways and halls, and is compatible with any desk style.

WOMAN: Your employees simply sit and go wherever they are! At their desk. At a meeting.… What else is there! No more bathroom visits to drain the main vein or drop a deuce.

SCENE: Meeting room with the attendees in Sit ‘n Go’s. Two men (TED and NED) and two women (JILL and JANE).

TED: Has everyone had a chance to review the project tasks?

Several flatulent noises are heard.

TED: Anyone have questions about the timeline?

The long steady sound of a urine stream striking water is heard through the remainder of the scene as NED stares about serenely.

JILL: I should complete my tasks in 20% less time now that I can piss and crap at my desk!

TED: Outstanding Jill!! (TED leans over and passes gas.)

JANE: These new Sit ‘N Go’s are totally awesome!

All faces turn to JANE as she concentrates during her defecation, with associated passing of gas and sounds of stool dropping into water.

JILL: Whoa, Jane. How ‘bout a courtesy flush there, sweetheart!

Everyone smiles and laughs.

MAN: Yes, the new Sit ‘n Go not only increases productivity but can be a team building exercise as well.

WOMAN: Get the new Sit ‘n Go for your office today!

FADE OUT

Loneliness As Motivation

I completed a book called Wild Seed, by Octavia E. Butler. The book covers much ground, including slavery, racism, sexism, choice (or lack thereof), family, and different aspects of personal relationships.  The theme that caught my attention was loneliness.

In the book there are two immortal humans, while the rest of humanity is its regular dying self. A man has lived for over 3,000 years. He has done so because he has the ability to move from body to body. When he moves into a body the original owner is killed. The bodies he leaves behind fall to ground, meeting their physical end. A woman has lived for over 300 years. She has the ability to see into her own cells and manipulate them. Thus she can heal all wounds, cure all sickness, and keep her body young.

The woman is a classic “gatherer.” Even though she outlives all of her progeny she prefers to be near family, and continues to hold emotional attachments to all of her decedents.  The man has essentially lost touch with his humanity. He is as unfeeling towards humans as we are to insects. At most he sees humans as a commodity (the book makes many references to humans as livestock). If the woman were to live for thousands of years would she too lose empathy towards other humans?

The idea is put forth that the man has lost his humanity because of loneliness. He has long ago lost any emotional connection. The remedy is for him to accept the woman as some sort of companion, and to not kill her as he would eventually do. He can become human again because of emotional connection through companionship.

It got me thinking about the power of loneliness, and the motivation to avoid loneliness. How often is our behavior dictated by our loneliness? How often do we force, or settle for, a relationship in order to avoid being alone? How often do we accept undesirable situations in a relationships so as not to lose that relationship? How often do we seek out casual sex to get a temporary feeling of acceptance?

If you are unable, or unwilling, to be alone then are you leading an emotionally healthy life? Conversely, what if you have accepted being alone to the point where you are unable, or unwilling, to begin relationships? As usual, the answer lies in-between. Moderation. Balance.

Three W's and Yes/No

The Three W’s can be applied to any type of relationship. The Three W’s are:

What you WANT.
What you are WILLING.
What you WON’T.

Never do a WON’T , and never insist someone else do their WON’T.
You must continually discuss your Three W’s, because they change over time. Your boundaries expand, contact, and move this way and that.

Example. Let’s say you hate going to garage sales. They are a WON’T for you. But your significant other enjoys going to garage sales. Guess what? You never go to them, and your significant other accepts this and never insists you go, nor harbors resentment over this.

In conjunction with this is something I call Yes/No. You should be able to say No without fear of the other becoming angry or building resentment. Consequently you will then say Yes with confidence. You should be able to hear NO without you becoming angry or building resentment. Consequently you will then be able to hear Yes with confidence, knowing that your partner is not building resentment by agreeing to something they don’t want to do.

So simple! Yet for many, so hard to do.

Divorce Recovery

First off, when deciding whether or not to end a relationship I believe there is only one question you need ask yourself: do you want to make it work? Well, do ya? Some would answer yes to that question but then take little action to actually make it work. Making it work means change. It means you change. If you are unwilling to make significant changes, then no, you do not want to make it work. When relationships do fail, what next?

First thing is to not be in a relationship.

It seems the most popular method of divorce recovery is to simply have that next relationship. When I was getting divorced just about everyone was telling me to date, to get a girlfriend. I believe this to be the exact wrong thing to do. For many the solution to a failed relationship is to be with a different person in the next relationship. Nope. YOU need to be a different person in your next relationship.

 

If you roll from one relationship to the next then, really, it is just like one big relationship. You carry over your habits, behaviors, wants and needs and just transfer them from one person to another. You are the same. You need to take time to consider your contribution, work to improve yourself, and then begin to think about having another relationship.

Understand your contribution to your failed relationship.

Have you ever noticed that when asked about their divorce people invariably tell stories about their former spouse? You hear all the things their former spouse did, or did not do. 99 out of 100 divorces are 50-50. Half the responsibility lies with each spouse. It is important to understand your former spouses contribution, but it is paramount that you understand your contribution. And don’t just focus on the end; review the entire course of the relationship. Attitude? Behavior? When were you selfish? What did you take for granted? What did you ignore? Did you fixate on anything? What caused resentment? Did you hold a grudge?

Envision how you are going to be different in your next relationship.

If only … If only… Have you have said how your life or relationship would be better if only … If only this would happen. If only my spouse would do this, or that. If only my spouse would be this way, or that way. If only … There is one thing in this world you can control: you. (And let’s face it, sometimes you can’t even control yourself!) Take those “if only’s” and apply them to yourself. YOU do this or that. YOU be this way or that way. You make it happen.

Want (not need) a relationship.

Do you need a relationship? Or do you want a relationship? Can you appreciate the difference between need and want? You should remain on your own, without a relationship, until you realize you don’t need one. You are capable of being perfectly content without a relationship. Now, want a relationship. If you want. ☺

Be a different person in your next relationship.

Booger Man At a Club (humor)

(Envisioned as a short on Saturday Night Life.)

Booger Man has a hot date. This isn’t saying much, really, since Booger Man has a regular girlfriend. Insomuch that an expected, and even taken for granted, date can be hot; Booger Man has a hot date.

Booger Man and Girlfriend are at a club drinking and dancing and generally having a good time. Booger Man excuses himself so he may visit the restroom.  Unbelievably, the men’s room is empty. Finally! All through dancing Booger Man kept imagining ways he could covertly stick a finger up his nose and remove the choice booger that resides there.

As Booger Man is busy, so is Girlfriend, as she accepts a dance invitation and gets to grinding with Hands Man, his hands roaming freely over Girlfriend.

Back in the men’s room Booger Man is doing his thing at a urinal and inserts a finger into his nose and quickly removes the choice booger. Only briefly is he allowed to admire the product of his nostril before others enter the men’s room. Booger Man wipes the choice booger on the wall above the urinal. He zips up, cleans up, and heads out.

Later, Hands Man walks briskly into the men’s room and up to a urinal. An expression of relief spreads across his face as he does his thing. He places his right hand on the wall for support, and leans into it. Hands Man’s hand is set squarely over Booger Man’s choice booger. Hands Man pulls his hand away to reveal a booger-free wall. He zips up, but doesn’t clean up, and heads out.

After more drinking and dancing Booger Man again excuses himself. As soon as Booger Man disappears into the crowd Hands Man is there making a play for Girlfriend. Never one to shun a bit ‘o random mugging to get the blood flowing, Girlfriend eagerly embraces Hands Man and his hands go to work, even groping beneath her shirt. Girlfriend’s internal timer ticks down and she pushes away Hands Man, teasingly done with her bit ‘o fun.

Booger Man returns and he and Girlfriend depart the club. Sitting in their parked car they begin to make out like teenagers. Booger Man gets aggressive and he gropes under Girlfriend’s shirt. Booger Man pauses. He pulls away his hand to find a choice booger. Booger Man looks up quizzically. Is this his choice booger? How did this homing pigeon of a booger make it back to him, upon the breast of Girlfriend? Booger Man’s eyes glaze over as he ponders the mysteries of the universe, and two-timing girlfriends.

Booger Man At Work (humor)

(Envisioned as a short on Saturday Night Live.)

Ding!

An empty elevator opens and Booger Man enters. Finally, time alone. Booger Man immediately sticks his right index finger into his right nostril. For the past 20 minutes he could feel the mucus nugget in his nose, blocking his airway, beginning to itch. Now is a perfect time for extraction. Booger Man makes quick work of it. Booger Man pulls his hand away and inspects the results. A gloriously large booger. Such satisfaction from a job well done.

Ding!

Oh shit! Booger Man quickly wipes his gloriously large booger on the wall behind him and steps to the left. The doors open and the elevator fills with office workers. A tall, gloriously curvy woman in a tight black skirt stands to the right of Booger Man. He can’t restrain himself from looking down to witness the fate of his gloriously large booger. Skirt Girl notices, looks him over, and takes exception to his apparent ogling of her backside. Skirt girl shifts her weight and the left cheek of her ass presses firmly against the elevator wall.

Ding!

The elevator empties. Booger Man leans overs and watches as his gloriously large booger sashays down the hall on the left butt cheek of the gloriously curvy Skirt Girl.

Skirt Girl strides down the hall and enters the copy room. The copier is in use by a casually dressed man. Copy Man gives Skirt Girl a once-over and approaches her. They engage in a PG-13 embrace and kiss; their hands roaming each other’s bodies. The copier goes quiet and Copy  Man collects his papers and exits.

Copy Man is making his rounds delivering documents. He deposits a folder on Booger Man’s desk. Booger Man takes out the pages and begins to leaf through them. Booger Man pauses. He pulls away his right hand to find a gloriously large booger. Booger Man looks up quizzically. Is this his gloriously large booger? How did this homing pigeon of a booger make it back to him? Booger Man’s eyes glaze over as he ponders the mysteries of the universe.

The Problem With Healthcare

The problem is simple, the healthcare markets are closed markets, at both ends. Think about it …

You are a medical insurance company expanding into a new state. How many customers are you competing for? Millions? No. More like thousands. You could select the 1,000 largest businesses in the state and hire a sales force to schmooze them. You can’t build relationships with millions of customers, but you can with 1,000. You can work to differentiate your product, to make it less of a commodity and to make it less price driven.

Individual consumers should be the true customers of medical insurance companies, but they are not. Medical insurance companies are not trying to keep you happy, they are just trying to keep the businesses happy.

As for the other end …

You are a hospital. In the course of a year how many patients do you treat? Thousands? No. More like 15 to 25. Patients are not the customers, insurance companies are. Healthcare providers model their business to please insurance companies. As a result they collude on pricing. Network pricing is not a discount, it is price collusion.

What to do about it …

Require all healthcare providers to publicly provide a price list of all services and products, from open heart surgery down to a box of tissues. Every patient pays the same price, regardless of medical insurance.

Businesses need to get out of the business of providing health benefits to employees. Tax health benefits as income. Each company is required to show how much it spends per employee on health benefits, and that amount is taxed as income. If a benefit eligible employee opts out, then that employee gets 80% of the per employee health benefit expenditure. If a business decides to no longer provide healthcare benefits then all benefit eligible employees get a one-time pay raise, equivalent to 80% of the per employee health benefit expenditure.

This second part is the key. Once individuals are responsible for finding and paying for medical insurance they will become more invested in how much it costs, thus driving down both insurance pricing and healthcare pricing as both markets compete for the multitude of customers. The healthcare markets need to be open and competitive at both ends. Medical insurance companies need to compete for families and individuals. Healthcare providers need to model their businesses to compete for and please patients.

Big and Fuzzy (a short story)

Callie the Clam was missing. How did the other sea creatures know this to be so? Because Callie the Clam never missed the Full Moon Sing-a-long. Every full moon the sea creatures would gather in the waves, beneath the bright full moon, for dancing and singing. Callie the Clam was a most enthusiastic dancer and a very good singer. She must be found.

A meeting was held and respectable sea creatures were selected to learn the mystery of the missing clam named Callie. There was Otis the Octopus; an eight-legged bespectacled creature of great wisdom. There was Sara the Seahorse; a mind of unbounded imagination and creativity. Finally, there was Teddy the Tuna; a meticulous fish with an eye for details.

The three sea creature friends gathered together to discuss a plan for finding Callie. Otis suggested that facts and evidence must be collected. Each sea creature was given a different task, and the three of them set out, each in a different direction.

Teddy the Tuna visited the home of Callie the Clam. He looked for evidence of when Callie might have last been there, and he looked for clues to where she might have gone. Teddy was indeed pleased and impressed as he swam through Callie's house. Her house was neat and clean, with everything in its proper place. Surely, Teddy thought, if something unexpected had occurred, if some surprise befell Callie, there might be something out of place; there might be something left undone.

There was a comfortable chair just in front of a large window that offered a grand view of the sprawling reef and sea floor. On the sand next to the chair lay some knitting in a heap. Callie seemed to have tossed the knitting aside. Teddy thought this to be out of character for Callie, here was something that was out of place. It was a blanket. Teddy held it up and could see writing across its width. The words stitched into the blanket said "Big and Fuzzy Growing inside a Clam Shell".

What is this, thought Teddy. What could possibly be big and fuzzy that could grow inside the shell of a clam? He must show this clue to his sea creature friends. Teddy left and took the blanket with him.

Otis the Octopus visited the clam beds, for here were a great many of Callie's family and friends. Otis spoke with them to learn what they might know of Callie's whereabouts. There were all worried about Callie for she had been talking nonsense in recent weeks. Callie's closest family and friends recounted how Callie was perplexed and befuddled about a riddle she could not solve. What is this riddle, asked Otis. Something big and fuzzy growing inside a clam shell. “What?”, asked Otis. Something big and fuzzy growing inside a clam shell. Whatever could this mean? Otis must return to his sea creature friends and report this information at once.

Sara the Seahorse roamed far and wide across the reef and the adjoining sea floor. She questioned all manner of under the sea creatures in an attempt to learn if they had seen Callie. Sara had no luck whatsoever. No creature in her under the sea neighborhood recalled anything unusual about Callie the Clam. In her disappointment Sara returned to her sea creature friends.

Otis, Sara, and Teddy reported what they had learned, and the three of them began to consider what might be big and fuzzy and could grow inside a clam shell.  Sara was saddened at the loss of her friend Callie, and began to remember all the times they had danced and sang together under the bright full moon. Sara remembered feelings of joy and happiness when spending time with Callie the Clam.

Sara shouted out, “I know where to find Callie”, and she bolted away. Sara the Seahorse galloped across the ocean, and Otis the Octopus and Teddy the Tuna struggled to keep up with the swift little seahorse. They swam beyond the reef. They swam beyond the nearby sea floor. They swam out into the deep nothing of the ocean. They swam and swam until they come upon another reef; a reef filled with unfamiliar sea creatures. They grew cautious and scared being on a new reef, with strange sea creatures they did not know or recognize.

Suddenly, the strange sea creatures parted and there was Callie the Clam! Callie was dancing and singing. The three friends approached and called to Callie. Callie greeted them with a smile and hugs. Teddy asked Callie what she was doing here. Callie replied that she was teaching these sea creatures to dance and sing, for they did not know the joy of dancing and singing under the bright full moon. Otis asked Callie why she was doing this. Why did Callie leave her family and friends? And what possibly could be big and fuzzy and grow inside a clam shell?

Callie replied that she would soon enough return to home; return to her family and friends. Callie the Clam then turned to Sara the Seahorse and asked if she knew the answer. Sara said she did know the answer, “love”. “Yes”, said Callie, “love”. Not just love for a child. Not just love for a parent. Not just love for a husband or wife or partner. Love for all sea creatures, everywhere. The big and fuzzy something is love, and that love was growing inside Callie the Clam. She had to share that love. And so she travelled the ocean so she could meet new sea creatures and teach them the joy and happiness of song and dance; the joy and happiness of love.

Otis the Octopus, Teddy the Tuna, Sara the Seahorse, and Callie the Clam stayed with their new found sea creature friends. And under the bright full moon, in the waves of the sea, they danced and sang.

Pick a Lane!

“Dad, you talk to cars more than anyone else I know.” So says my son. Granted, he isn’t riding around with too many different people, not at his age, but I do talk to cars. Sometimes I yell. Although I am never really angry, just being expressive and dramatic.

The first thing I ever said to a car was, “Pick a lane!” You have been there before, driving behind someone who is straddling the white line or at least veering over to the side, hugging that line. “Pick a lane!”

I commonly throw in a name, too. It could be the make or model, or something based on a bumper or window sticker, or if the plate is out of state. If I know the gender of the driver I might add a prefix. “Pick a lane, Mr. New Mexico!”

“Make the turn. Make the turn! MAKE THE TURN!” Dontcha hate when you are behind someone making a right turn and they slow to a near stop and then crawl through the turn for no obvious reason? “Make the turn, Toyota!”

 

“Don’t do it! Don’t do it!” This you can say under a variety of circumstances, but most often I say it when someone looks like they are thinking of turning into the traffic flow in front of me when clearly there is not enough space. “Don’t do it, Mustang!”

Most of the time it is more conversational. “Watcha gonna do, Ms. Minivan?” Or, “I see what you are doing there, Ford Truck.” Or when someone wants to move into my lane but is hesitating, “Come on over, red rover.” (game reference, not a Land Rover reference)

One of my favs, never combined with a name and when said with the proper sarcasm will usually get laughs from any passengers, is “The accelerator is the pedal on the right!”

The Value of Losing

“You lost today, kid, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.”

In the opening sequence of the third Indiana Jones movie River Phoenix plays a young Indy attempting to keep profiteers from getting their hands on the Cross of Coronado. Young Indy fails. The leader of the profiteers tells Indy, “You lost today, kid, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.”

Everyone loses, and more than just contests. Anytime you don’t get what you want then you lose. You don’t get that job. You don’t win that contract. You lose a friend. You lose your partner. You can’t have the one you love. You lose your job. You lose money. Our lives are replete with losing.

How does a person deal with losing? Does it make them angry? Does that anger bleed into other areas of their lives? Do they take it out on someone, or something, else? Do they throw a tantrum?  Does it paralyze them? Do they resort to cheating or breaking the law in order to win?

The value of losing is learned (or not learned) as we grow up. As a child and teenager how we are taught to deal with losing is how we will deal with losing as adults. At the front line are parents, followed closely by coaches, teachers, and other adult leaders who serve as a mentor. When children lose those who lead them should be setting the example and providing a guide on how to learn from failure.

Whenever disappointment is encountered a person can choose to externalize or internalize. To externalize is to look outside of yourself, to blame others, for why you failed, or lost. To internalize is to recognize your contribution to why you lost and to work on growing and improving yourself. Little league sports is a good example.

Little league sports are about learning the game, improving skills, acquiring discipline and determination, building character and respect, and learning how to win and how to lose. (Actually, any endeavor can be said to embody the same characteristics; school, hobbies, extra-curricular activities, even inter-personal relationships.) One very important aspect is to have fun in whatever you do. Winning is certainly more fun than losing, but winning is the by-product of your actions and attitude. Winning in a team sport is the by-product of all the player’s and coach’s actions and attitudes. You don’t win because you want to win. You win because you want to be the best in your actions and with your attitude. And when you lose you see that as an opportunity to improve yourself, to improve your skills, and to improve mentally.

If losing makes you angry and spiteful, and you look outside yourself for the answers, then you have lost at life. Learning and growing from losing, from your failures, is how you win at anything you do.

“You lost today, kid, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.” Indy didn’t like losing, but he learned and he grew. Twenty-five years later he had another opportunity to retrieve the Cross of Coronado, and this time Indiana Jones won.