Announcement

Major announcement happening at my regular blog tomorrw... be there.  Aloha.

Love's Labors Lost

I never read that play.  I don't know anthing about it... I only know the title, and I thought it would be pithy if I used it to title this post.

Apparently T has had a change of heart.

That figures.

I really wish that I could find it in me to be angry at her, but I can't.

Apparently she doesnt want to damage our friendship with romance, or sex.

Fuck.

I might as well go of to the monastary now. 

I suppose I need to stop being nice to women... maybe I would have better luck if I started being an asshole.

Thanks

This is for you.

Thank you.

Thank you for being my friend when I needed a friend.

Thank you for listening without judgment.

Thank you for letting me unburden myself and tell you things that I couldn't tell people that are close to me.

Thank you for making me lugh.

I appreciate you even though I have never met you.

O Canada... how could you?

Note:  I wrote this the day after the most recent winter olympics opened.  I never posted it out of a desire to not offend my Canadian friends... so, here it is.  Please to enjoy.

Many of my closest internet pals are from Canada... and I fear that many of them won't be my pals when they finish reading this.


In our house, the opening of the Olympic Games, winter or summer, is always a big deal. We have special food; we gather together and try to remain cheerful in anticipation of the great examples of sportsmanship, friendship, and international good will. We believe in the spirit of Olympism.

In our house the opening of the Olympics is big fun, even though we are sometimes disappointed in the spectacle of the opening activities. The opening of the Vancouver games, last night, was one such disappointment.

It has always seemed to me that Olympic host nations take the opportunity of the worldwide attention brought to them by the games, to tell the billions of people who watch from around the world: "Look at our country and people, this is who we are", I didn't see that last night. What I saw last night, looked like a country that already struggles with an identity crisis, talking to itself and telling it's own citizens, "hey, this is who we are."

Before you start swearing at me in English, and really mangled, disused French, and begin hurling Nanaimo bars at your computers, hear me out. I know many Canadians, and count them as friends. When I was in the service, I served alongside Canadian soldiers more than once. I was even a member of the Royal Canadian Legion... and the Canadians that I know, for the most part, had nothing to do with anything that I saw on television last night.

I realize that larger countries in the industrial democracies spend a lot of time and money talking about diversity, and I know that this is, generally, a good thing for the people, but last night was pure fantasy.

Great. The First Nations people... I get it, they were here (in all of North America) first, I get it. I also get the really weird, psychedelic tribute to Newfoundland, with their fabulous traditions of music and dance (Big ups to Natalie MacMaster and Ashley MacIsaac). I also get... no, wait, I didn't get ANYTHING out of "Flying Prairie Jesus" ... you know who I am talking about, don't you? I’m talking about the weird prairie version of Peter Pan that you had going on. Totally lost me on that one.

I'll tell you thought, in the main, I thought the diversity thing was handled fairly well... until we got to slam poetry. Slam poetry. O Lord, my God, thou art my God in whom I trust. Can I trust you not to assault my eyes and ears with that dope ever again?

It appeared to me, and I am sure pretty much a large proportion of the sentient Americans who watched the opening of the games, that the "poet" spent more time taking a stab at the United States than he did extolling the virtues of Canada. I'll let that go for now, pausing only to say that I don't think that anyone in the United States cares whether you say "zee" or "zed"... and since most of the English speaking world says zed right along with you that can only have been meant for us. Well, go fuck yourself, fat boy.

As for the rest of the opening, it was a crashing fucking bore. I hope you enjoyed your exposure on the world stage... because the day after the Olympics closed, the rest of the world went right back to lumping you in with us folks down here in the rude 50 states.

So What Is Love and What Are Memories?

I wrote this three or four weeks ago...  I wasn't in a good mood, but I thought I should share anyway, because as I said when I started this little blog, that I was going to share my truth.


The title of this post is a quote from a character in one of my favorite old books called "A Sense of Honor" which was written by a man who would, many years later, be elected as a Virginia Democrat, to the United States Senate. 

The character was a Marine who had returned from Vietnam and when reunited with his wife was told that she wanted a divorce, when he asked his wife if she loved him, she replied "So what is love?, and what are memories?

So... that is my question.  What IS love?  What are memories?  Further... what is infatuation?  what is living with ridiculous hopes?

I feel...  I feel.

I feel a lot of things, and they aren't all good.  Sometimes (often) sad.  Sometimes angry and resentful.  Sometimes I talk to myself (but not too much).

I feel things.

Sometimes I think that I feel too much.  I never think that I don't feel enough. 

Sometimes I feel like screaming... but we can't have that, can we?  After all, I am a respectable guy.  I am considered strong, tough, and steady by people who know me.  Can't let the side down, eh?

Feeling loved is important to me.  I don't feel that enough.

Bah... it's Friday, I'm going to go home and feel... whatever it is I'm going to feel... but I suppose I should go feel it there instead of at my desk.

Love

Love is wonderful. 

I think that it is what most people thrive on. 

Indeed, I think that people that know that they are truly loved make better friends, but there are degrees of love, aren't there?  There is the love you feel for a pet; the love you feel for your children; the love you feel for a thing or for family members; and there is the love you feel for a spouse.  There is also that wonderful thing called romantic love.

What is romantic love?

According to Psychologist Michael Grayson Conner, romantic love can be defined as:

"A deep emotional, sexual, and spiritual recognition and regard for the value of another person and relationship"

Interesting.  Is it right?  I don't know... I sort of feel like Forrest Gump when it comes to love.  You remember that movie, right?  Remember when he tells his girlfriend that "I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is"?   Well that pretty much sums it up for me.

So why am I talking about this?  Because I like romantic love.  Don't we all?  Not that you need to tell me about it, really... after all, I am just talking to the world in general.... let me say it again:  I like romantic love.  I like the feeling of romantic love.  With romantic love comes passion and a yearning desire to be with someone... even if it is just to be in their company.  With requited romantic love also comes the passion you feel for physical contact and sex.

Sex.

Dude... I sort of remember what sex is like.

Where was I?  Oh, romantic love.  I feel it.  I am experiencing it as we speak... no... not the physical part, but the emotional part.  What could be better?

I'll tell you  what would be better... it would be better if I could have the physical aspect of it as well.  It would be better if the feeling of romantic love was focused at my spouse.  A shame, isn't it?  I'm in love with another woman (call her T)... and she loves me too.

It's all fucked up, you see, because she is married, too.  She loves her husband, she says, but not romantically.  Ditto for me and my wife, who is a great person.  Smart, pretty, educated, a great mom and life partner... and someone who has absolutely no physical desire for me.  None.  That's right... fucking zero.  I have a better chance of making first contact with an alien civilization than I do of getting laid in my own home.

Pathetic, no?  Well, before you ask why I am still there, let's just say for the same reason so many people stay together.  We have a young child.  said child needs the resources and stability that comes from having a two-parent household.  Being the child of divorced parents, I always wanted to make sure that my children were able to live with an intact family... mainly because being raised my a single mom who made a living as a clerk was, shall we say, financially challenging.

Anyway, I guess my reasons can be seen as excuses, and nobody likes those.

How did this all happen?  Probably because I thought that love would conquer all and sexual incompatibility would eventually even out the longer we were together and made efforts to match our own desires with each other.  I couldn't have been more wrong.  I don't suppose it matters now... done is done, and you can't ever go back and change what is done.

I don't know how this ends.  Almost certainly with terrible hurt for my wife.  Terrible hurt for me, terrible hurt for my daughter, and terrible hurt for T.

Add to all of this, serious illness of several family members, and no wonder I don't sleep much.

I wanted to tell someone this.  I'm telling her now. 

Email me when you get a minute, would ya?

Welcome

Blogging is a wonderful thing, isn't it? 

With a blog a person can reach out to the world in so many fascinating ways, it almost defies description.  With blogs, we can sell things; talk about music; sex; gardening; families; parenting; animals; and even politics.

The blogging world has been an interesting place for me for the past few years.  What started as a place to vent my thoughts and views, became a place not only for those things, but where I also made new friends, some of whom I count as friend as some bloggers refer to  "IRL" (which you probably know is blog-speak for "in real life").  This is a good thing.  The problem with making freinds via the electronic trails of cyberspace, is that like with any other friends, you aren't always comfortable saying some of the things that go through your head.  That is why I am here.

This blog is where I am going to talk about my life... not the life of the blogging persona that I share with the world, although what I share via my open blog is true... it just isn't all of my truth.  Can you dig it?

So, I'll talk about things.  My things. You are welcome to listen.

Aloha