Don’t Mind Me

I am sitting here in the quiet of my own space wondering what in all the world I should do with all the spare time I have. You know, the time that stretches in front of me into the horizon of the unknown. I hadn’t thought there would be this narrow and dark void I would be walking along, not now when things should be settled, peaceful, and maybe a bit brighter than they are. But here I am, staring down a future that feels uncertain and frequently terrifying.

No one knows how many hours they have to spend on this earth, how many breaths they will take, how many “I love you’s” they will say or hear in their lifetime. No one knows how slowly the sand will run through the hourglass of their life or how each grain will be spent. The best any of us can hope for, we will be present and gather the grains of our misspent youth as lessons for a richer and better-spentjourney during the remainder of our lives.

This year I lost a sibling and a friend. I am watching as another friend slides into depression while another is gripped by dementia. I am struggling with these losses. This year, I have had to reconcile myself to the idea that some of my longest-lasting friendships have changed, even fallen away. I miss them, and some of this is my fault as I push myself deeper into my own spaces and my own comfortable isolation. I recognize my reluctance to create human connections for what it is, knowing that each time I try to step out, I feel judged, rejected for my imperfections, and sometimes used. I realize my trust in humanity is diminished by my history. Unfortunately, my recent experience with stepping outside hasn’t changed my mind.

So, I sit here in the space I have created for myself. The silence stretches endlessly except for the music I play to suit my mood. What I have noticed;

  • When people call these days, they want or need something from me.
  • My email is filled with requests for money or sales pitches.
  • Potential lovers are not interested in more than themselves and their instant gratification.

Where does that bring me? Despite having spent my entire adult life taking care of everyone around me, I will be the only one to take care of me as I walk the last part of my life. It is daunting; it is a painful realization. Some mornings, when I have had a rough night, when I have had nightmares or seizures, when I haven’t had enough sleep, I resent the hell out of this prospect. Some mornings, I wonder how I got here, and then I consider all the ingredients poured into me and think, well, perhaps this is my portion. After all, I don’t come free of scars, bruises, and demons I dance with; it isn’t easy to get through my walls, I don’t let many know I might have a weakness or be vulnerable.

A decade after my divorce, I find myself staring down that road and saying this wasn’t the plan. Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. Twice in this decade, I thought I had found that person who would stay, walk beside me, and partner with me as an equal. I was wrong; in the end, they were there for what they could get for themselves. At the end of the day, I was always wrong. Ultimately, I learned that broken trust breaks something inside of us that isn’t easily repaired.

So, don’t mind me. I am trying to reconcile what I wished for and what I thought my life would be with the truth, the reality of where I am. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect any of it. I resent it and am trying to create something different, but first, I have to learn to accept there will be no one beside me, no one to soothe me on a bad day, no one to help me walk through pain, no one to drive me in the dark, no one to hold me when I cry, no one to ensure I get through a seizure. It might take a bit of time to accept a reality I wasn’t expecting, but like everything else, I will get there; I don’t have a choice.

It’s hard when our realities change. When creating new expectations for ourselves, we must shift how we see our world and ourselves. So don’t mind me; I am just over here getting my head straight.

What I Notice

The thing I notice most these days is the tribal nature of society. We are becoming more isolated, living more inside our own bubbles of belief and information. Each tribe refuses to hear, see, or speak to anything or anyone outside their tiny consortium. Each cohort demands others join them in a common cause or die in the fires that will burn when they ‘win.’

It is terrifying to watch this descent. Yet, it is even more horrifying to think that most of us participated in this outcome through our silence or active engagement. Depending on which side of the imaginary wall you stand, we all have some culpability in the state of our nation and society today. Isn’t it amazing? Those innocuous things, initially whispered from the fringes of the far Right or far Left, can no longer be ignored. What we once thought of as ‘those’ people over there; they are ‘us’ in too many cases.

Consider the changes in our lexicon and what they mean in public and private forums.

SituationshipA relationship that is more than friends but less than together. Call it what it is, “friends with Benefits.”New
MAGATrumps lie. Make America Great Again from his 2016 campaign. New
InfluencerA person with no particular skills who has somehow built a following on a social media site convicing others of their expertise or ‘good life.’Changed
GaslightingThe act or practice of grossly misleading another person for personal advantage. Most often found within interpersonal / dating situations. Changed
Woke

Attentive to important societal facts about social justice” back more than fifty years, but its recent use as a disapproving way of saying “extremely liberal” The term “Stay Woke” first began appearing within the African American community in the 1923. 

History of Woke

Changed
Cisgenderrelating to, or being a person whose gender identity corresponds with the sex the person was identified as having at birth, first entered into the lexicon in 1994.New
BedwettingDisparaging: used to describe an exhibition of emotional overreaction to events, major decisions or outcomes. Changed
Cancel CulturePopular practice of withdrawing support for (canceling) public figures and companies after they have done or said something considered objectionable or offensive.New

The above are just some strange words we have accepted as normal, sometimes without understanding their origin or meaning. There are, of course, many more. Some I refuse to add here because they are nothing more than dog whistles and ugly. Some are entirely ignorant, primarily used only in political speech to gain traction within small segments of society, and are unworthy of notice unless you live within those bubbles.

What I notice, we are changing the lexicon to fit a new mode of communication and how we relate to each other in our everyday lives. We create language by giving bad behavior ‘pretty’ or innocuous names. Words often become weapons to disparage entire communities or our political rivals. Every time we do this, we throw up walls preventing us from listening to each other or finding common ground to stand on.

We “catch” feelings. Sounds like we are out at the park throwing a ball. But that isn’t at all what it means. What it means, in truth, is that grown people have begun to care for someone, maybe love someone. What it means is they weren’t expecting it. The ‘caught’ feelings sort of like catching a disease.

We “ghost” someone. Grown people can no longer look each other in the eye and say this isn’t working for me; instead, they “Ghost.” This means they disappear, leaving the other person wondering what went wrong, what they did wrong. What the hell is wrong with people today? Cowards, heartless and without empathy or compassion, these grown folk simply walk away and disappear without a word. Whether it is after a first date, or months of a relationship, Ghosting is a common phenomenon in today’s world of supposedly adult dating. So now we have added “Ghosting” to our lexicon rather than calling it what it is; Cowardly, Craven, Weak, Spinless, Lowlife, Mannerless, and Mean.

I could go on and on about some of this, but I will stop with one that I believe gave us the mess we are in today. Cancel Culture. That’s right; we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the idea that no one should have an opinion outside of the “acceptable” box. I am not saying that some things shouldn’t be called out; they should be. I am not saying that some things aren’t despicable and ugly; they are, and we should hold people accountable. Nevertheless, we are a nation of millions, in fact, 341,432,270, with a median age of 38.1 years. That means there are differing opinions about nearly everything, even if they aren’t expressed. The truth? We are damned mean to each other when we express our views outside of acceptable boundaries or our tribe’s acceptable boxes. What do we do? We Cancel that person, that business, or that thing. We make them pariahs within society; we banish them. Not because they have committed murder, pedophilia, genocide, or rape no, not because of any of these terrible crimes. We cancel them because we disagree and convince others they deserve to be stripped of their businesses, livelihood, reputation, and even their very humanity because we don’t like their opinion.

Please don’t mistake me; there are times when this is absolutely fair. But there are other times when it goes too far. When we go too far and refuse to understand both sides of an argument, respecting another person’s Right to speak or act in the same way we demand our Right to speak is both hypocritical and petty. There has to be a middle ground where each side listens and even sometimes accepts uncomfortable truths, not because they agree, but because it is how society functions for all of us successfully. Sometimes, it is compromise; other times, it is by acceptance of another person’s Right to live outside of our own ‘truth’ without being battered.

I love words; I love how they change over time to encompass social and generational changes. I am fascinated by the idea that we can embrace cultural shifts without even realizing we are doing so. Nevertheless, what we are seeing today, in so many states across this beautiful and distinct nation of ours, is the stripping of our history, the erasure of diversity, the very thing that makes us great.

If we aren’t careful, if we don’t stand up for every American and for our Democratic Republic in November with our vote for Democracy, we will lose more than the Right to disagree. Don’t sit on your couch this November. Don’t take a pass because you hate both candidates. Don’t vote third-party in protest. Vote because your future depends on it.

Define Humanity

What do you think gives us our “humanity?” Do you think it is our ability to use tools? Or perhaps it is our mathematical comprehension and ability to use logic and solve complex problems. Some would tell you it is our social organization and ability to work together. While others are convinced, it is our spiritual curiosity. Finally, there are those who would tell you unequivocally that the basis of humanity is our self-awareness.

I would argue that we are simply searching for ways to set ourselves apart and make ourselves better or on a higher rung on the ladder than other creatures inhabiting Earth.

We think very highly of ourselves, don’t we?

We use tools, as do Chimpanzees and many other members of the ape family. We simply took it a step further. Why? Because we were unable to survive without protection and thus had to create habitable conditions to preserve ourselves. Of course, given our rather aggressive nature, we also rather rapidly created weapons to ensure we could kill not just our food but others that looked slightly different; thus, murder and mayhem very rapidly ensued.

Humans have been, it seems, murderous and ‘eat our own’ species from the very beginning.

So, this leads me back to what defines us, specifically what separates us from other animals and makes us ‘human.’

We organize ourselves into ‘tribes’ and give ourselves rules to create socially acceptable conditions for our tribes to grow and thrive. Usually, these rules are constructed around “Gods” and religions, which men conveniently translate into laws for the masses. There is always a hierarchy within these religions: men who know all the rules and gather all the wealth for themselves. Within the hierarchy, there is always an enemy: the non-believer, the unrighteous, the weak, and those the believer could justify making war upon and enslaving at will.

Before we could make war, before we could enslave, before we could commit any atrocity, including rape, or murder for the amusement of the masses though we had to dehumanize the ‘other.’ We had to be convinced our ‘enemy’ was less human than us. We had to name them less than us and diminish them. We had to strip them of the essence of their humanity to enable and validate our cruelties.

This cycle has been pursued by the tribes of man since we have walked upright. We have certainly refined our cruelties; we have sought out different victims over the eons of man. Would it surprise you to know the word Slave has Slavic origins? Over time, as those boys over there in Europe became less pagan, well, they took a dislike to the enslavement of their own, meaning White Christians, so they had to search further afield for free backbreaking labor.

Again, I must ask what causes us to believe we hold some special place on the evolutionary ladder.

The atrocities we commit upon our fellow human beings are beyond the pale. Murder, mayhem in the name of what? Religion, state security, power, racial purity, borders, political ideology; all of it is incredibly ignorant. Honestly, what it boils down to is fear. Are we not so far up the ladder from the animals we pretend to be ‘better than’? We measure ourselves on dominance, not compassion, not empathy, but pure dominance.

We are nothing more than hairless apes with better and far more destructive tools. I frankly fear where this ends. As so many throw out even the façade of being enlightened, following the teachings of a faith that proposes kindness and loving others. We descend into the madness of pure anarchy and a return to the days when none were safe; I fear for all of us.

So finally, I return to my original question. what is humanity?

Dear God XII

Dear God, Happy belated Birthday. Most of us know December 25th isn’t your birthday but a pagan holiday, but whatever floats the Christian boat is just fine, and it does result in some good after-Christmas sales. Okay, now that is out of the way, can we talk? I have a few bones to pick with you. I know, when don’t I, right? But really, God, don’t you think this is getting a bit ridiculous? I know, tis the season and all that jazz, but come on, can’t you blast some folk for special effects if for no other reason? I bet you think all those weather events are making people stop and think, but God, you, and I both know people are especially stupid these days.

Dear God, did you plan it this way? I know the Bible says so; however, as anyone with half a brain knows, the King James Bible was written by a bunch of European men with agendas, and not good ones. I know that it wasn’t your intention to create this level of ugly, this schism within humanity.  So, let’s talk about the Old Testament for just a quick second. Can we do that without offense?

Dear God, have you looked down on Israel, on your Chosen People? Have you seen them in their fury and what they are doing? I am not pretending to know all the truth, but one truth I am certain of babies are innocent, children are innocent, and many others who are maimed, dying, starving, and living in fear of the next bomb or next bullet are innocent of this unrelenting war of retribution. They say, God, that given enough time, a people can become what they fear or what they hate; maybe it is time you hold up a mirror for your Chosen to look into. What did you tell Abraham, oh yes, that he would be the father of nations (Genesis 17) through his sons Ishmael and Isaac, and thus the lines were drawn from then to now. You set them up and knock them down. Maybe it is time to remind all the people that your names are many, and the children of Abram all worship one God, not many, not different, but One.

Dear God, let’s talk about the unrelenting and terrible mess we have made of it here in the speck of dust we call the United States for a minute, if you don’t mind. For a brief minute, we appeared to have made some progress; you know, people were beginning to act like they had sense; they weren’t so hate-filled, so fear-filled, so damned scared of the ‘other’ that seemed to loom around every corner. It seems we have taken several large steps backward, and it is just plain ugly. We have the self-righteous leading, the self-pitying into pits of fiery hate and embracing ignorance. Compassion is considered a weakness; these monsters that once hid in dark rooms now preach from pulpits and scream their sacrilege through the televisions of every home in this nation. Their poison infects the hearts and minds of millions, even calling your greatest commandments weak and your word incompatible with today’s world while continuing to call themselves Christians (albeit White Nationalist Christians).

Dear God, I know many say it is the End of Days. Maybe it is. I was never a big fan of that part of the Bible. It was rather dreary. Maybe I will go back to my Torah and Talmud and read what those pesky Europeans left out. I don’t know if it will make me feel any better about all the nonsense being spewed by those who get their information from television preachers with 5th-grade reading levels, the comprehension of fire ants after a rain storm, and a propensity to hate rather than love. I am about as weary as it is possible to be with scallywags and cocksure conmen leading the nation into ruin, in your name. Aren’t you tired yet?

Dear God, just a little prayer for myself at the end of this. I know I make fun of it, laugh about it, and play strong for the crowd because what else am I going to do? But God, I grow tired of being constantly alone and I don’t want to burden my sons when they have so much else to worry about. I feel my body fail some days, and I am afraid. If this year has taught me nothing, it has taught me I can’t do it all, and being by myself all the time isn’t healthy. I know I chose this, if I could I would unchoose, but that isn’t possible. So maybe God, look down and help me find the necessary grace, loosen the fear on my heart.

Anything for Love

I always loved Meatloaf; I know it’s a strange way to start this, but it’s fitting. Take my word for it. In the song, “I Would Do Anything for Love,” four promises are made; most don’t realize this when they listen and constantly wonder what the singer won’t do for love.

If you pay attention to the chorus of the song, each time there is a promise and in that promise is what the singer will not do. Most people never realize this twist in the song written by Jim Steinman and released by Meatloaf in 1993.

“Oh I would do anything for love
But I won’t do that, no I won’t do that”

Well, I can tell you without a doubt that these tired men out here have a litany of things they will not do, not for love or anything else. But whooee baby, do they want to know what you (me) will do for them, and damned if they don’t want to know in great detail.

What is this dial-a-babe? I think you have the wrong number, but I have some spare time so let’s play who has the best imagination, shall we?

Him: I am looking for a long-term relationship. Someone with morals, standards, and values. Someone I can trust and tell my secrets to, who will have my back and wants to make a life with me.

Me: What does that look like for you?

Him: I have six grown children and fourteen grandchildren; I want to find a woman who can be part of my family. Who has humor, can embrace a large family, and wants to make me part of hers. I also enjoy travel and want someone who enjoys seeing new places and cultures.

So far so good, right? This guy is kind of great. Right up my alley. Polite, articulate. Big family, so he understands family dynamics. His profile is funny and articulate, so he had me at the humor! He is a little younger than me, but only by a couple of years, and bonus he is rather nice on the eyes.

The conversation continued with some back-and-forth chatting for a bit, and then he dropped a bombshell.

Him: Usually, women your age don’t want sexually intimate relationships. What is your stance on this?

Me: Have you dated many women my age, or is this simply your online experience?

Him: Only my online experience.

Me: Well maybe it is your approach to the subject. Most of the women I know my age love sex. The problem is that men our age are incapable of accomplishing the goal.

Him: I don’t understand.

Me: Right. Mentioning a woman’s age in the same sentence as you approach sexual intimacy is usually not going to get you very far. That’s like saying to a woman, “I think you are a brilliant conversationalist, but you are too old to fuck.”

Him: Oh. Got it. I don’t think you needed to be that crude though. But I do see what you mean.

Me: I tend to be blunt when it is called for. I think beating around that bush wasn’t going to get the point across.

Him: So, you like sex?

Me: I love sex. With the right person and when the time is right.

Him: Do you like oral sex?

Me: Do you know how to perform oral sex?

Him: Oh, I meant do you like to perform oral sex?

Me: Yes, I know what you meant; the sword is two-edged, though, isn’t it? You are far too old to believe that you should receive without giving. With six children, you should also know how real sexual intimacy works; it starts in the mind. If you catch a woman’s mind, the heart follows; after that, you can ask for anything. But true sexual  intimacy is reciprocal. It is never all about one partner, or about what you like or what you get, while your woman is left wanting.

Him: I don’t like doing that. It doesn’t turn me on.

Me: Well, that is where your problem will always start and stay. Especially at this age when you can’t always depend on your little soldier coming to attention on command.

I haven’t heard back from him; I don’t expect to either. He made me laugh, though, and I thought I would share this one with you. At least he didn’t cuss me out when I challenged his manhood. This is the world of online dating at the getting-to-know-you phase. Delightful, isn’t it?

This is just one of so many. I can be snarky when it is called for. I try not to be, but there are days. What is wrong with these men? Really, what is wrong with them? These are not twenty-five-year-olds with an abundance of testosterone and decades of life ahead of them, these men are 55+, but you surely would not know it by they way they act. Oh well, maybe it is true; maybe some men never grow up.

Next up, the two actual dates I went on and why I wanted to find a brick wall.

This time of Year

Did you use to love this time of year, the entire spectacle of it? Getting ready, decorating the house, putting up the tree, preparing cookies…..you know, the whole Christmas thing.

I think there was a time when I liked Christmas, maybe not as much as others did. But I did like it. There was a time when I looked forward to going to the Texas Hill Country, where my beloved father and my heart mother hosted the family at Hearts Home. Where our Christmas traditions, both frivolous and heartfelt, were lovingly embraced? There was a time when my strangely dysfunctional and blended family came together with love, laughter, and acceptance of our quirks, and we felt blessed we were all there, together.

This was the time in our lives when we baked cookies that filled tubs and made rum balls that might have been more rum than anything else. My sons and I spent days taking orders from family for what kind of cookies we should bake that year; we always made too many, yet they were always gone by the end of the holiday weekend. Grandma always got her special order of Russian Tea Cookies in a special tin we selected each year just for her. One year, my eldest was in charge of the Rum Balls; he just kept pouring until he could work the dough; when those tins were opened several days later, you could get drunk off the fumes; they were the hit of the Christmas candies that year.

Christmas Eve was special. Homemade Eggnog so rich it made your toes curl, and the adult version had us all giggling once we got around the entire table with our gratitude toasts for the year. We never did find a dipper that worked, so there were inevitable spills. What we did do, was find a perfect plastic runner that made clean-up easier. The Gratitude Toasts were a special family tradition; every person in the family, from the youngest to the oldest, said what they were most grateful for, and all the family toasted, loudly then drank. It was inevitable that one of the men would always toast the women of the family, and much cheering would ensue; it was recognized that we were the heart, especially my beloved stepmother, who held us all together for many years.

Another special part of our Christmas Eve tradition was reading the Christmas story. It was always read by the youngest of the grandchildren, and if that child couldn’t read, Grandma read it to that child. No matter your particular persuasion, this was always a special moment for some reason. Perhaps it was simply the connection across the generations.

My family wasn’t big on gift-giving when it came to adults, but we certainly knew how to have fun. The children were given gifts on Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning. We played games; we spent time with each other. We ate far too much, and we talked. The most important thing, we talked. For those who played golf, my parents hosted the Valentine Family Open and even awarded a jacket to the winner each year; it was a weird big deal and full of pageantry and hilarity.

I miss Christmas with my family. I miss my parents desperately during this time of year and the kinship they built between all of us, coming from different places and people. I miss the love that flowed through Hearts Home and my gratitude for being part of that.

I think I use to like Christmas. I don’t think I like it much anymore. I hope you are with family and friends this year. I hope you find things to be grateful for and that you tell your family and friends that you are grateful for them, for their company, and that you are with them this day and the days to come.

Mud, Muck and Fear

Do you wonder sometimes what is wrong with people? Do you listen to what others say and think, “Do you believe what you are saying?”

I do.

There are days when I hear the words that fall from the mouths of strangers and people I thought I knew, and my head tips to the side in astonishment and dismay. Sometimes, I want to scream at them, “What is wrong with you? Are you stupid?”

I realize this isn’t a good response. I know in my heart I shouldn’t do this, and I don’t because it wouldn’t do a bit of good. Besides, they might actually take it as a challenge.

The truth is, though, I think people really are losing their ability to reason. I believe a large swath of the population has decided to accept blatant lies as unimpeachable gospel as long as those lies support their desired outcomes. This same group will say anything, do anything, and sacrifice anyone to gain and hold power over those they fear or despise.

Those with power play on the fears of those who want power. Those who want power, even false power, reach out toward the lies told with open arms and embrace it as if it were manna from the lips of the God they pretend to worship. When you listen to them justify their stance and reasoning, it is difficult not to weep or shake them until their necks snap. When you question them, and all you get is soundbites with zero truth, zero logic, and even less real-life foundation, it is nearly impossible not to scream at them, “You are a fecking idiot!”

We are a land of terrified White Men who see the world they once knew changing and who are willing to do anything, up to and including giving away democracy. What is fascinating and terrible about this is that most of those White Men are poor, under-educated, and under-employed. Truthfully, they are no better off and in some cases, worse off than the people they despise. What they know is that their hero has promised them a better, whiter world where they will thrive because they will once again be at the top of the food chain.

He has promised them a world where they are Kings once more. A world where they aren’t competing with Women, Black people, Hispanic people, Asian people, or any other Vermin. He has promised them a world where their sperm is safe, and they are free to impregnate without consequence. He has promised them a world where their insufficiencies will be rewarded without question. He has promised them a world where they are free to shoot to kill without paying a price for their fear of others. He has promised them a world where their ignorance, hate, greed, and inconsequential contributions to the betterment of society matter and everyone else’s lives will not.

He has promised them paradise.

Naturally, they are so ignorant they are incapable of reading between the lines of his rhetoric. What is truly stunning? His most devoted are nothing to him; they are cannon fodder in his war against the United States, against the Constitution, against democracy. They are nothing more than money to feed his never-ending need to pay his lawyers. But they don’t care; they just keep giving and giving as if a self-proclaimed billionaire would need their last $5.

Four indictments and ninety-one counts. It’s a witch hunt.

Business fraud? They lied and cheated; it’s a witch hunt.

Sexual molestation, guilty! They lied; it’s a witch hunt.

Nevermind their God-Hero worships the very worst autocrats and dictators of this century and the last. That he quotes them and exchanges love letters with them. He had friendly meetings with them before, during, and after his first presidency. Well, for some reason, his worshippers seem to think this makes him all that much more worthy of respect and worship.

I sometimes sit in disbelief and wonder what the Hell is wrong with these people, these pseudo-Christian pretend patriots. What in all God’s love happened to them that made them go this wrong?

I have no answer. I only know this. The soul of this nation is on the line, and these people have lost their way; from the top down, they have sold their souls to power and are willing to sell this nation into Hell to keep it.

I know this, we are in a fight for our lives and our freedom. We cannot afford silence. We cannot afford complacency. We cannot afford to sit back and laugh at the ignorance of those on the other side any longer. It easy to hope the Devil will be found guilty of at least some of the charges brought against him. That hope isn’t enough to keep him off the ballot or out of the White House.

It is easy to complain about the age of Joe Biden or that you didn’t get everything you wanted in this administration. Okay, so what! That is what democracy is: negotiation and compromise all day and every day. I can only say this, maybe if more of you got out and voted at the local level and for every single mid-term, Joe Biden would have gotten more done.

Here is my one truth. I am terrified for my children, for my grandchildren and for all the young people I see every day at the High School behind my house. What kind of nation will we leave them if we don’t fight?

Men & Women

Do you think we are fundamentally different from each other? Men and women, that is, are we different? I mean, other than the noticeable differences, do you think we are genuinely different on the inside? Don’t you think we have the same needs, desires, and wants?

We thirst, hunger, seek shelter. Most of us seek comfort when we are sick. We seek companionship when we are lonely. We seek friendships, people with whom we can form relationships to sustain us. Many of us want to procreate at some point in our lives. And come on, let’s be honest, most of us like sex.

I said it; I just threw it out there, SEX. Most of us like SEX. I won’t lie; I miss sex, I miss intimacy and lying in bed talking and touching, but dammit, I also miss sex. Maybe we aren’t supposed to say these things. Maybe people would be more comfortable if we didn’t say them. I know this mystical wall seems to come down when we hit a certain age, and if we aren’t married or at least partnered in some meaningful way, we seem to regrow our magical hymen as if we are reborn virgins suddenly.

The truth is, sex is more fun once the fear of pregnancy doesn’t burden you, the exhaustion of childrearing doesn’t wear you down, and you have more free time. Sure, it changes because your body changes, but the fundamentals don’t change, and everything is still in the same place and works. Women are funny like that; we don’t require chemicals to help us get where we are going; we simply need patience and extra lubrication.

What does change when we reach a certain age? For me, at least, I don’t want just any Tom or Harry with a Dick in my bed. There are rules to the game these days. I want someone who works to engage my mind before they tell me they want to engage my body. It isn’t that I think I am such a fabulous creature the pursuit should be costly, but there should at least be a willingness to pursue, to show interest in ME.

Thus far, in the interest of fair play, I have tried hard to make myself as transparent as possible on the dating sites I chose. In fact, I read what I wrote after my divorce and used some of that in my profile to create a picture of what I was looking for (links below). I chose sites that serve my preferences and have larger pools in my geographic area and larger pools of people in my age range. My profile pictures are not tasteless club shots; yes, a couple of my tattoos show, but the only way to hide them would be to dress like a nun. Again, I am transparent: if you don’t like tattoos, I am not the one, so move along.

Bachelor #1: he was cute until he opened his mouth to let me know I needed someone to take control. Pass and Block.

Bachelor #2: handsome man, well dressed in his profile picture and, according to his write-up, well-educated too. His first message was very polite; I thought, ‘Well, this is nice.’ His next message is, “Well-endowed and ready to swing.” Hard pass and block.

Bachelor #3: sent 15 messages over the course of two days, all demanding I meet him immediately if I ever wanted a relationship with a ‘good’ man. His messages got increasingly aggressive. Pass, report, and block.

Bachelor #4: we had several relatively comfortable conversations until he asked me if I would relocate across the country for love. I answered that it would be a difficult choice since my life is here. So, I asked him the same question, and he responded that it was a woman’s duty to support her man. I burst out laughing, which was the end of that one after a few choice words. LOL

Bachelor #5: Interesting conversation that reminded me of why I have to always stand up for myself and never again be silent when someone tries to shut me up or shut me down. I am great with a good debate; I love a great debate about anything you want to debate. I am a font of useful and useless knowledge, and most people’s opinions will never stand up under the scrutiny of my facts, so please bring it on. Understand me; I love our soldiers and respect their service. I have too many in my family who have served not to respect those who serve in our volunteer military. Nevertheless, thinking your service in any Armed Forces branch’s enlisted ranks makes you an expert on geopolitical issues is simply foolishness. Unless you have spent all those years of service at the CIA, being an Army Drill Sergeant was just your cover; you are no more expert than the next person. You have a unique perspective if you served in battle, but this still doesn’t make you an expert on geopolitical issues, only on the battlefields you served. When he combined his disdain of my opinion because of my ‘lack’ of service with his quoting of Fox soundbites, his quotes from 45, and his sprinkling of Biblical stands on a woman’s place, well, let’s say…. HARD PASS and BLOCK.

A few others didn’t make it to the point of a conversation or weren’t worthy of noting here.

Maybe I am fated to be alone. That would be a shame, I think there is still life in me. I think there is something still worth loving in me. I don’t think I am done yet, but boy, oh boy, if this is what the world has to offer, I sure might be.

So, back to my original question: men and women, are we really all that different? It seems we are not different in our desires, but how we go about it, dang.

From April 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/04/13/served-grown-up-please/

From July 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/07/03/served-grown-up-part-deux/

From Oct 2014: https://valentinelogar.com/2014/10/12/imprinted-for-life-attractions/

Dating at an Age

I just re-read this series to see what has changed. Not much except that I am four years older, still single and maybe just a bit more unhappy with the situation than I was. Truthfully, the thought of growing old alone and unpartnered gives me a certain sadness and increasing fear as I look into the future.

Looking back, I know I must own most of the choices that brought me here. Not all of them, but many of them. Strangely, I only regret some, but not all.

Do I wish sometimes I could take some things back? Absolutely. Yet, I also know it wouldn’t have changed the ultimate outcome and may have made it worse.

Oddly, I chose to spend years in a relationship that wasn’t a relationship to protect myself from looking for anything better. Did I know he wasn’t the one? Of course, I did. Not because I didn’t love him, but because in my heart I knew he didn’t love me. Did I know he would never be the one? I expect I did; I allowed myself the blinders to not see what was uncomfortable so I could exist in a relationship that would ultimately hurt me and shove me further into solitude but allow me the comfort of my introversion without explanation. I spent seven (7) years waiting for my heart to heal with a man who broke me more. Does that seem counterintuitive?

Did I learn anything? Many things, some of the things I learned, would help me to survive without partnership. Some made me even better as a future partner to that mythical being that may exist somewhere out there. Some of them, well, some of them likely making it harder for me to find that unicorn.

So here I am, finally ready to jump back in and search for that glade of warriors, who just might be ready to find me too. I know they will be battle-weary, have been out in the world just like me, and scared, just like me. I get it; we all have our war chests, filled with all the medals of wars won and lost, swirled with all the bullshit of lies told and hurt survived. I promise you I am not looking for pristine; that would be the most ridiculous ask I could make. I am just looking for that person who can match my energy, fill the empty spaces, and wants to be a true partner in what is left of this journey.

What is all this leading up to? Good question, and I want to share. Well, those who have followed in the past know I share, sometimes too much. With everything going on in the world, all the terrible and terrifying, there has to be something we can laugh at together, something we can smile about and even find the occasional ridiculous in. As I re-read this series, I thought, well, why not my experiences trying to find love at sixty-six.

No, I won’t share sex with you, not that there is any sex happening, dammit.

What I do plan, though, is the lighter side of online dating and otherwise. Dating sites are a treat to the senses once you find your humor about them. Yes, I signed up for several online dating sites explicitly promoted for my age and preferences.

I will tell you now: I have not found that mythical unicorn. I have discovered many trolls, and they can either destroy any last vestige of faith in possibility or in inciting hilarity, depending on your state of mind.

So, for now, I search and hope. I watch the world and wonder. I plan how to share the tribulations of dating at sixty-six without overwhelming you with the ugly, and begin to consider living the rest of my days as I live now if that person I hope for never emerges from the mist.

I hope you will follow the journey.

Let’s Talk, Dysfunction

I know most of us don’t know what to say anymore. I surely don’t have the words, well that isn’t entirely true; I have the words they just aren’t used in polite society. We have two parties, one presumably taking the high road, the other rapidly taking the road to hell. Both are frankly leading this nation into a pit of despair, one without true direction or the ability to dig us out of this quagmire we find ourselves in today.

On June 16, 2015, the man who would be king rode down the escalator with his bombastic rhetoric about how he would save America from itself. The ignorant, the fearful, the fools afraid they were losing their place at the table bought his promise to return them to the top. With each rally, each gift of another interview with Fox, he pushed further outside of everything normal; every value we once thought of as America and the underbelly was exposed for who they were. The America that had hidden their bigotry, fear, and ignorance were ripped open and given permission to be themselves after decades of living in closets and shadows. They marched on the streets of our cities and violently attacked their enemies; anyone who did not look like them, love like them, or challenged their narrow view of what the world should look like were targets of their vitriol and violence.

On January 20, 2017, much to the dismay and shock of so many of us, that same ugly, ill-equipped, and unprepared charlatan was sworn in as the forty-fifth president of the United States of America. In his Inauguration speech, he painted a picture of this nation that was nowhere near the truth, but his loyal followers faithfully latched on and repeated it. American Carnage was the start of what would become America’s downfall.

(AP Photo/Patrick Semansky)

His disregard for America ended up costing millions of lives, yet still, they sing his praises.

Then we came to that critical day that divided us even further as if we could be further divided: January 6, 2021. The President of the United States of America proved beyond a shadow of a doubt he was not fit to hold any public office. This man who for four years had destroyed our international relationships, killed millions of Americans, robbed the public coffers, and treated the office as an extension of Trump Enterprise, LLC. What happened? After months of stoking the fire with his lies about stolen elections, his attacks on private citizens and public officials. He invited the worst of his followers to Washington, D.C., for a ‘protest party,’ in real terms, an insurrection to overturn the election of a New President because he lost.

He LOST.

During his months of whining, pissing, and moaning about how the election was stolen his acolytes stuck to him like glue. Fearful of his rage, they encouraged his lies; they told more outrageous lies of their own. Some of them even planned their own nefarious means to help him steal the presidency. They planned their anointing of the would be dictator; against their oaths of office, against their fealty to the Constitution; these eight (8) Senators and (139) Congressmen and women voted against certifying the election, among them Kevin McCarthy, Jim Jordan, Steve Scalise; all of them traitors to the United States, all of them within a hairs breath of the presidency if only through the Speakers gavel.

So, with that tiny bit of history, let’s focus on today. The fallout of Donald J. Trump’s Presidency and how it has shaped America and the Biden Presidency. During the first eighteen months of his term, the Senate and House were controlled by the Democrats. However, in both cases, there were slim majorities in the Senate and outliers like Joe Mansion and Kyrsten Sinema, who constantly threw in their two cents of hackery and nonsense like fire bombs. Then came 2022; what a year that was in the history of elections. We saw more fools, charlatans, and outright frauds running for office than I think we ever had before. The Democrats maintained control of the Senate, with Trump’s hand-picked candidates losing everywhere they ran. The House went to the GOP, but by such a narrow margin, they couldn’t afford to expel George Santos, a Jr member under indictment with 24 separate federal crimes.

I remember when Republicans told Richard Nixon it was time to leave office for far less.

Now we come back, full circle to the chicanery and pure, undiluted fuckery of that which is the cult of MAGA and Donald J. Trump. The ruin of American Democracy, the burn-it-down party and their nihilism. Led by a handful of MAGA Senators and Congresspersons, we no longer have a working government. They don’t want to legislate; they want to parade in front of the camera, grin and create soundbites for Likes and Dollars. They put our nation at risk with their tricks, and worse, they’re playing up to their twice impeached, four-time indicted, facing ninety-one criminal charges, not to mention the civil cases he has already lost. With all this, their feckless leader pushes them to make the government his defense shield.

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