Saturday, August 28, 2010

Saturday Entreaties

As I get older, I detect with dismay many changes since, say, 10 years ago. My expectations are more realistic. I'm at a point when, "Your prescription is ready for pick-up" is the best fucking news all day. When I was, say, 25, the best part of life was women. Today, the best part of life is women. The only thing that has changed is that I have a fearful respect for their power. Like Tony "C" who got hit in the kisser with a fast ball and he never hit well again. Or a base jumper who flings herself off a bridge and breaks every bone in her body, and later goes back to base jumping. It humbles you. But you still love doing're just a little flinchy.

Relationships are an extreme sport. It doesn't matter if you're gay, heterosexual, Mormon, or a Samoan professional will one day fall in love with another human being, and it will humble you. It will be great. But you will earn it. No free rides, you get what ya give, as Ken Gage says.

But life is not easy. God help you if the person you love happens to have the same genitals. For some reason that upsets complete strangers. Or is a different color. Or class. Why? Because the world is full of bigotry, and it really sucks, that's why. I mean it really sucks.

Having someone who knows when you're full of shit is just the bee's knees. Love is good.

Age has taught me that being in love and enjoying sex are really good things. I knew that when I was 17, but today I also understand how precious it is. Most people I know, except for my brother Kent (he met his wife through a friend, after that it was kismet) really have to work hard to find the right person. Sentimental thoughts from a 38 year.

There's that great Stevie Wonder song that says it all.

As I get older, I talk to Mr. God or Chancy-McChance, or Dick Cheney or whomever runs the universe. It's always a one-sided conversation, even when I really listen. When I talk, I ask for favors:

"Please, God, don't let me shit my pants." Was on a date at that time.

"God, please let this be an Ace of Spades." Scratch ticket plea.

"Oh, Lord of Hosts, please let there be one English muffin left."

"Sweet, fancy Moses, let her have poor eyesight!"

"Please don't let her find out I like Cat Stevens!" Topical.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Sort of a question prayer.

"Lordy, if you can get me out of this, I'd do anything!" This could be anything.

"God, if you don't mind, please let us both come at the same time."

And the Favor of Primary Importance (FPI) is simple. "Please, Mr. Blue Sky, don't make me have to use a bedpan in front of an attractive young female nurse ever again. Please. " That has been the FPI since July 4, 2010. On that day, I had to poop into a shoe box at Mt. Auburn Hospital. When it became clear to me that they wouldn't let me try to walk, and since I was literally tied to a bed, my only option became shit in a bed pan the size of a matchbook.

The horror. The horror...

Not a big fan of shit humor, but it was so humiliating and disgusting and embarrassing that methinks I was traumatized. The nurse was, and probably still is, sexy and beautiful. and traumatized, as well. Poor thing.

You get the drift. Entreaties to the wind, or something.

1 comment:

Apocalypse Cow said...

You may have had to poop in a shoebox, but when I had appendicitis, I went to Faulkner Hospital, which is a teaching hospital. Well, I was such a classic case, my doc came by and showed me off to his students. His 5 very attractive young female students. To show me off, he pulled my gown aside and had them each palpate my appendix, which hurt like hell, by the way. But that pain was nothing to the pain of embarrassment being my half-shaved(for the surgery) wang out in the open for these 5 young ladies to see, laying there like a worm on a driveway.
Is there any wonder why I hate hospitals?