Everything I know about being a man I learned from women, and especially when we were stoned and in bed, fucking and/or talking.Men approaching the AARP age, if my conversations with my brethren are at all typical, do not think this way. We’re above sex now—or at least above talking about it. When we take the measure of our lives, we speak of mentors and character and hard work, and if we can stand to offer a reason to explain the good things we’ve got without beating the drums for our personal excellence, we may even throw in luck. Thanking the women who took us into their bodies? When I mention that, guys give me the look that says, “You’re weird.”
If I were the careful sort, I’d assign sex-and-drugs to the rock ’n’ role phase of my life—and pretend that phase had ended long ago. Because in the Gospel according to Media, life has this arc: When we were children, we acted like children and smoked dope and lay with women whose breasts bounced free and easy under their tie-dyed shirts, but now we are men, and we have put away childish things, and drink Bordeaux to self-medicate and need Viagra to rouse us on those rare nights when we feel the urge to bend one into our wives.
Nonsense.
I sincerely envy you in an odd sort of way. Most of us had to grow up, accept responsibility, and move forward in this dynamic thing called life. To be able to stagnate at one arbitrary point where personal growth, responsibility, and maturity must be a tremendous relief. Alas, some of us accept responsibility for our actions, care about the future enough to set aside our own comfort in an effort to make things better for our children. I envy you in the same way I envy my wife's Shetland Sheepdog. She sleeps, eats, craps, and looks around without appreciating anything she sees. In fact, a qumquat might even be a better example of how I envy you. Kidding aside; I pity you in missing all the wonders that this life affords if you simple reach out.
Comment by Pat Stevenson — November 9, 2009 @ 3:58 pm