You might have heard, the world's greatest golfer has had sex with several women. Apparently, this is a surprise to a majority of the world, proof that the majority haven't the slightest idea about anything. Perhaps I can open your eyes just a bit.
The typical man will have sex, with a woman he finds attractive, whenever the opportunity arises. Nearly 100% of men can be considered "typical" if you replace "a woman" with "anything." The only limiting factors are attraction and opportunity. Anyone who tells it different... Let's just say, you might want to check their cell phone. Having never been a woman, I can only use my own experience to assume most women exhibit the same behavior.
Some people are extremely narrow-minded when it comes to attraction, and have very limited opportunity. Rest assured, actually, this should keep you awake at night: if the attraction is strong enough, the opportunity will be found. This is nothing new, no sign of the impending apocalypse, no statement on morality in America. Marital infidelity has existed as long as the institution of marriage. It is no worse now than it was 20 years ago, 200 years ago, 2000 years ago. Except now it's "news."
Looking at the Tiger Woods situation, no one should be surprised. When it comes to opportunity knocking, his door probably has a hole worn through it. He's traveling unsupervised, and he's successful, talented and attractive. Given the opportunity, most women would jump at the chance for a night with Tiger. Hell, I'd jump at the chance if I thought he could teach me how to hit a low draw. No matter how particular he is, every day he will have the opportunity.
This problem of infidelity, if it can really be considered a problem, will not go away on its own. Something has to change first. Evolution could bring about the necessary changes in human behavior, although that is unlikely. The only change, likely to fix the problem, involves the concept of marriage. The "one size fits all" union has never worked and never will.
Most of us need some type of transportation. Maybe you need a pickup, a sports car, a sedan, a mini-van or an SUV. Toss in a few more categories and you can meet the transportation needs of everyone. Yet, there are over 30 companies selling several hundred different models of vehicles. When you add in color and options there are millions of choices available to each of us. When it comes to a family, we have two choices: get married to someone of the opposite sex, or don't get married. Everyone is different, every union is different, all marriages are forced to be the same.
If you're in a perfect union, neither person has ever, nor ever will, desire anything outside the home, enjoy your elite status. Just make sure to keep those opportunities limited. Instead of selfishly flaunting your own joy, how about allowing the other 95% have the chance to achieve their own marital bliss? This isn't just about same-sex marriage, it's about making marriage fit reality.
Twenty years ago I had a friend that lived with two men. She had needs and each man fulfilled some of those needs. In addition she had at least one woman and one other man, who also helped meet those needs. Everyone knew the situation and their place, and for the time I knew them, everyone seemed genuinely happy with the arrangement. Another couple I met had been married for over 30 years and were about to get divorced. Sex had disappeared from their lives and they found no joy in each other. They started going to an adult social club (swinger's club) and within a month their sex life, with each other, was better than it had ever been. That was over 10 years ago. Today, they look younger than they did then, are incredibly happy, and enjoy every moment they have together.
Look at your friends and family. Several of the people, you come in contact with on a regular basis, have non-traditional sexual activities. It makes them happy and keeps them together. Yet, if others were to find out, their lives could be ruined. They would be shunned by friends and family, jobs might be lost, reputations destroyed. All because the world refuses to let them find their own happiness.
Let Tiger and his wife alone, so they can find their own resolution. Let others find their own solutions and don't judge them for being different. There, that should alienate just about everyone.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
A Roof Over My Head
Having once spent a winter with less than favorable shelter, I am happy to find myself with a roof over my head. If, at some point in the future I find there are no longer roofers over my head, working diligently to teach oxen to tap dance, then I'll truly be thrilled.
Six weeks ago, when I first toured my new apartment, the roofers were hard at work. The minor amount of water damage inside was scheduled for repair prior to my move. All was well with the world, at least that infinitesimal part of the world contained in this small apartment. Perhaps I was overly optimistic.
Having spent eight years in New Mexico, I can appreciate the benefits of a flat roof in the hot and arid desert. In a city that averages over 40 inches of rain per year, a pitched roof is probably a better choice. However, with a brand new roof there shouldn't be any problems. At least not for several years.
The buildings flat roof is an ideal location for air conditioning units. Units, which needed to be moved to install the new roof. This left my apartment with a nice big chimney for all the warm air to escape through. The HVAC company was diligent in putting everything back in it's place, requiring only a week to finish. In their haste to cover the large holes with A/C and ventilation ducting, they managed to poke a surprising number of small holes in the brand new roof. The first to be surprised were my next door neighbors. It seems they weren't expecting cold water to be running through a gaping hole in their ceiling. My own ceiling, though damp and discolored, has so far survived.
The next surprise, discovered by my downstairs neighbor, was big enough to share. Imagine my joy to be awoken late Wednesday night by the apartment maintenance man violently pounding on my door. The flooding downstairs was so bad, they wanted to make sure I hadn't drowned. My own ceiling was damp again, but still intact, with no leakage. I had no sooner crawled back to bed, when he returned, rapping vigorously on my door. He needed to check all my closets, just to be sure.
Now the roofers are back, apparently, getting some practice in for the upcoming soccer season. Besides patching the numerous small holes, they've also decided that the drain holes, which they plugged, might serve some useful purpose. Once they've finished, the noise level will decrease and the huge dumpster will be gone, freeing up three good parking spaces. The downside, I'll no longer be able to open my bedroom window and throw out the garbage.
Six weeks ago, when I first toured my new apartment, the roofers were hard at work. The minor amount of water damage inside was scheduled for repair prior to my move. All was well with the world, at least that infinitesimal part of the world contained in this small apartment. Perhaps I was overly optimistic.
Having spent eight years in New Mexico, I can appreciate the benefits of a flat roof in the hot and arid desert. In a city that averages over 40 inches of rain per year, a pitched roof is probably a better choice. However, with a brand new roof there shouldn't be any problems. At least not for several years.
The buildings flat roof is an ideal location for air conditioning units. Units, which needed to be moved to install the new roof. This left my apartment with a nice big chimney for all the warm air to escape through. The HVAC company was diligent in putting everything back in it's place, requiring only a week to finish. In their haste to cover the large holes with A/C and ventilation ducting, they managed to poke a surprising number of small holes in the brand new roof. The first to be surprised were my next door neighbors. It seems they weren't expecting cold water to be running through a gaping hole in their ceiling. My own ceiling, though damp and discolored, has so far survived.
The next surprise, discovered by my downstairs neighbor, was big enough to share. Imagine my joy to be awoken late Wednesday night by the apartment maintenance man violently pounding on my door. The flooding downstairs was so bad, they wanted to make sure I hadn't drowned. My own ceiling was damp again, but still intact, with no leakage. I had no sooner crawled back to bed, when he returned, rapping vigorously on my door. He needed to check all my closets, just to be sure.
Now the roofers are back, apparently, getting some practice in for the upcoming soccer season. Besides patching the numerous small holes, they've also decided that the drain holes, which they plugged, might serve some useful purpose. Once they've finished, the noise level will decrease and the huge dumpster will be gone, freeing up three good parking spaces. The downside, I'll no longer be able to open my bedroom window and throw out the garbage.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
What's Cooking?
As a child, Sunday mornings were something I loved. It was the one day when Mom cooked breakfast. Biscuits and gravy, waffles, bacon, sausage, eggs, pancakes, always lots of good, wholesome, artery clogging food. If you know me, you know how I enjoy eating. As I've grown older, I have come to enjoy cooking as well. This morning's experience has taken much of the joy out of my day.
A recent upheaval has resulted in a change of address, and the need to acquire new furniture, cookware, and handy gadgets. The furniture was easy. A few donations from family and friends, plus a timely moving sale and my new apartment is all set up to enjoy football on a 60" flat screen HDTV. Still waiting on that donation. Trips to K-Mart, Best Buy, Lowe's and WalMart have filled in a few of the empty spots in the kitchen. Just a little more work and (and a TV donation) and the place will be perfect.
What better way to celebrate my new home, than to cook up a big Sunday breakfast. One I wouldn't have to share with two brothers, two sisters, a mother, a step-father and a dog named Bert. Scrambled eggs, sausage patties, grits and toast would be a great way to start the day. Okay, need to put grits on the grocery list. I break out my brand new, non-stick skillet and start the sausage cooking, while I whip up the eggs. While the eggs are cooking in the sausage grease, I'll put the toast in the... Better put toaster on the list and use the broiler to make today's toast.
Should sausage patties stick to a non-stick skillet? When I purchased my economy cookware from WalMart (MainStays brand), I had assumed the non-stick label referred to the inside surfaces being resistant to the adhesion of food. Apparently, it means the pan will not stick to the stove. While this is a good thing, it did require the pan be scrubbed briskly with a non-abrasive scouring pad, before the eggs could be cooked. During my non-abrasive scouring (accompanied by several abrasive exclamations), I managed to remove most of the non-stick coating and alter the shape into something resembling a kidney. The toast, sausage and scrambled eggs (minus the 24% which are now a permanent part of my kidney skillet) were all delicious. However, the overall experience, while educational, was not satisfactory.
Later today I'll be making a trip to get some high quality cookware and a toaster. Maybe next Sunday's breakfast will be a better experience.
A recent upheaval has resulted in a change of address, and the need to acquire new furniture, cookware, and handy gadgets. The furniture was easy. A few donations from family and friends, plus a timely moving sale and my new apartment is all set up to enjoy football on a 60" flat screen HDTV. Still waiting on that donation. Trips to K-Mart, Best Buy, Lowe's and WalMart have filled in a few of the empty spots in the kitchen. Just a little more work and (and a TV donation) and the place will be perfect.
What better way to celebrate my new home, than to cook up a big Sunday breakfast. One I wouldn't have to share with two brothers, two sisters, a mother, a step-father and a dog named Bert. Scrambled eggs, sausage patties, grits and toast would be a great way to start the day. Okay, need to put grits on the grocery list. I break out my brand new, non-stick skillet and start the sausage cooking, while I whip up the eggs. While the eggs are cooking in the sausage grease, I'll put the toast in the... Better put toaster on the list and use the broiler to make today's toast.
Should sausage patties stick to a non-stick skillet? When I purchased my economy cookware from WalMart (MainStays brand), I had assumed the non-stick label referred to the inside surfaces being resistant to the adhesion of food. Apparently, it means the pan will not stick to the stove. While this is a good thing, it did require the pan be scrubbed briskly with a non-abrasive scouring pad, before the eggs could be cooked. During my non-abrasive scouring (accompanied by several abrasive exclamations), I managed to remove most of the non-stick coating and alter the shape into something resembling a kidney. The toast, sausage and scrambled eggs (minus the 24% which are now a permanent part of my kidney skillet) were all delicious. However, the overall experience, while educational, was not satisfactory.
Later today I'll be making a trip to get some high quality cookware and a toaster. Maybe next Sunday's breakfast will be a better experience.
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