Train wreck but will there be any survivors?

It's been suggested that there's a general lack of sympathy for the women that Charlie Sheen leaves in his wake, that they're viewed as "disposable women" or gold-diggers, etc. because of their backgrounds or professions.

There is truth there.  I believe the public that has been so enraptured by the circus of Charlie Sheen's life does show a general lack of sympathy for the women that Charlie Sheen has "used" and "discarded."  And evidence would indicate he certainly views those women as "disposable."

I do believe that many people likely do view the women as "disposable."  Where I part ways with the above logic, I don't believe for a second that the women in Mr. Sheen's life are viewed the way they are because of their backgrounds...  Of course the women in his life have those backgrounds-- those are the kind of women he goes out of his way to attract. 

I believe these women are viewed as disposable not because they're struggling actresses who appear to have latched on to a "bigger star" to help propel their own careers or porn stars, or anything of the like... These women are being viewed as disposable because they got involved with Charlie Sheen.  I believe the public would be just as unsympathetic to them if they were college professors, rocket scientists, or corporate executives. 

Given Charlie Sheen's history as an actor-- his reputation with the ladies is not new and his reputation is also well known.  That is to say any woman who chooses to get involved with him in the first place-- there's a bit of caveat emptor.  If you don't want to be burned, keep yourself out of the bonfire!  The lack of sympathy for these women is rooted in their not only avoiding the bonfire that lays waste to most of the women he has involved himself with but running into it headlong and staying in it long after they discover that "Hey, this fire's pretty hot!  Why is my skin bubbling?!"

I guess what it comes down to-- people tend to understand their own genders better than the opposite gender.  This is a phenomenon that happens with both genders: 

To any guys who are reading this how many of you have either ignored the warnings of your moms, sisters, female cousins, and/or friends and ended up getting burned by a girl/woman you were warned about by at least one of the women in your life or know of someone who has? 

And ladies, how many of you have ever been hurt by a guy whom your father, brother, grandfather, or some other male friend or relative has warned you about or know of someone who has?

What sets Charlie Sheen a bit a part in this regard is that not only do us guys realize the type of guy he is...  I'd argue most women do too... and I'd even go so far as to argue many of the women who might otherwise be duped by his charms were he not so well known understand what type of guy he is! 

"But I can change him!"

Ladies-- he's what?  48?  You can't teach an old dog, new tricks.  Your chance passed long ago.  You didn't get to him soon enough.  That window closed decades ago.

In the end I understand the media spectacle that is Sheen's life right now.  I understand the public fascination with it.  But I'm sick of the gaper delays already.  C'mon people, move along there's really nothing more to see here!

The Marrying Type

Once again I find myself inspired by one of Sam de Brito's blog postings. In his post on doubt he raised the very good point that the common thread in all of our relationships isn't the other people, it's US! And generally all the excuses and euphenisms we give for the failure of our relationships; "we drifted apart," "we fell out of love," "a clash of differences," etc. etc.; they all boil down to an "unwillingness to change."

de Brito argues that "commitment is a switch you flip on." There is certainly some truth to that. There just comes a point in your life where the wild oats are sown and you're ready to settle down. Heck, sometimes the difference between a break-up and a marriage proposal is just a simple matter of timing. It's when that switch clicks for both parties in the relationship at roughly the same time.

Before that commitment switch clicks many of us have a tendency to cut and run when the going gets tough. We see arguments and fighting as signs of cracks in the foundation. Rather than spackle the cracks and strengthen the foundation we put the house on the market and start checking the classifieds to figure out where to start laying a new foundation.

After that switch clicks there's more of a willingness to weather the storms together. We come to realize that arguments aren't signs of weakness, but opportunities to better understand one another; opportunities to grow closer together rather than drift further apart. Getting mad at one another from time to time is natural. Because the opposite of love isn't hate, it's apathy. It takes just as much passion and energy (if not more) to hate as it does to love. And if you still have the energy to hate, you still care enough to feel enough negative energy for that other person it means you still have the same capacity to love that person. Would you really expend the energy to argue with someone you didn't care about or care for or would you just walk away?

The old adage, "what doesn't tear us apart will only make us stronger" is true. And in realizing that arguments can strengthen relationships rather than tear them apart.

Inevitably, the question shouldn't be, "Does (insert name here) make me happy?" Happiness is fleeting it will come and go multiple times in any relationship. There are going to be bad times when you're not too keen on that special someone. And if you think otherwise, you're lying to yourself.

Instead, the question should be, "When the chips are down, if everything is going wrong in my life, is there anyone else I'd rather have my back than (insert name here)?" Because a relationship shouldn't be based on something as fleeting as happiness. The happy times are easy. A relationship should be based on dependability, knowing that person will be there for you not only when the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and all is well in the world but also on your darkest and dreariest days. It should be based on knowing that you're not always going to get along and that's okay. In the end it's not about getting along all of the time, it's about realizing that those times when that special someone is driving you up the wall it's only because you're emotionally invested in not just the other person but in the relationship itself.

I'll concede much of this is based much more on observation than personal experience. I have five siblings, all of which have been married over twenty years and my parents have been married over fifty years (not to mention they were high school sweethearts before getting married). Personally, I'm a tenderfoot. My wife & I have only been married four and a half years. We're still learning as we go. I'm just putting this out there as I've seen people I care about making the same mistakes over and over in their relationships. I may be wrong but I chalk up those mistakes to cocktail of two parts bad timing with a shot of unrealistic expectations of what a relationship is supposed to be like.

Happy Anniversay, My Love

Four years ago today, you made me the happiest man alive when you became my wife. In a few weeks you're going to top that by bringing our first child into the world. My love for you knows no limits.

In honor of our special day...



I am, I am, the luckiest. :)

Numb

Last night, after rating my top 5 heartbreak songs, I was transported to a time when those songs were my lifeline—when every time I heard them I felt as though they were about me specifically.

However now, with enough time and space between the present and that particular chapter of my past, I have the benefit of 20/20 hindsight. And I got to thinking as bad as heartbreak is… what was worse (at least for me) was that numbness that comes after the pain finally wears off. It’s that point where the pain has worn off, but the memory of the pain is still fresh enough to keep you from putting yourself back out there.

It’s that stage where you feel as though you’re just going through the motions—not just in love, but in life. The pain is gone, but there’s no joy or happiness. It’s a nondescript numbness, like after you go swimming and you still have water stuck in your ears. The whole world just seems muted to you. The sounds are flatter, the colors are grayer, the smells and tastes are even a bit duller.

It only hurts when you’re still alive. It’s that lead weight on your heart feeling, the world muffled, you know that feeling where you’re just going through the motions? That’s where you were at.

Somehow you managed to get past the intense hurt where every love song on the radio sounded as if it were mocking you. You’ve done the hurt, the self-pity, and heck even the bitter pill of anger has worn off.

And as bad as all of that was, it would be a welcome respite from what comes after. This head underwater feeling you’re now stuck with—no pain, but no joy either. You’re stuck in the purgatory of the human heart. The wounds may not be fresh any more, but the memory of them is enough to keep you from putting yourself back out there. So, what do you do next? You start living your life on a treadmill.

If you're one of the lucky ones, when you stop trying, stop looking for it one day love finds you. It can be stubborn that way. No matter how much you close yourself off to it, no matter how big a shield you put up-- it can get through. But it also plays hard to get. If you try to hard, it'll be a no show.

For some though, the treadmill becomes more than just a way to live, it becomes a security blanket. You know you won't get hurt if the most you ever give the world is merely showing up. So there you are, just walking in place... and somehow time gets away from you, and you wake up one day and realize at some point you stopped living and spent most of your life merely existing.

I'll admit I was one of the lucky ones, and I count my blessings for that because I could just as easily have stayed on that treadmill, I could have continued going through the motions. But I left that door open and I didn't force it. Somewhere along the way, love snuck in the door-- a door I never fully closed... and the love that snuck in and snuck up on me has grown into something that exceeds even my wildest imagination.
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Now playing: Chicago - Remember The Feeling
via FoxyTunes

Late Bloomer

I was a late bloomer... didn't get my first snog until I was 19 years old. It wasn't really due to physical appearance, I'm not an ugly bloke... that being said I also realize I'm not God's gift to women either... It was more a lack of confidence thing.

At any rate, several years back-- when I was 19 there were 2 people who changed my life substantially. One was a passing acquaintance I merely knew online who gave me the advice which stuck with me all these years:

"Don't rely on your charm. You have none. Just relax and be yourself."

(incidentally he also went on to say something to the effect of, “It doesn’t matter how tight your jockeys are, the human tongue is at least 3” long.” And “Your best chance of a date on a Saturday night is your right hand.”)

The other was my first girlfriend who gave me the shot of confidence I’d been lacking prior to knowing her. She believed in me and in so doing got me to believe in myself again—for the first time in a long while. We parted amicably and even still keep in touch. Her influence on me has been a lasting gift even as our lives have gone in rather different directions.

There’s a type of bloke out there who thinks of picking up women as a “game” and fashions himself as being a “Pick-up Artist.” Their perception of themselves instills them with a confidence. And generally the "confidence" PUAs have (or appear to have) is false. It's held up based on a script these blokes expect the women to follow to a “t”. Once a woman goes "off-script" the confidence crumbles.

Either way it's all about having confidence-- not too much as that often comes across as arrogance or even as being superficial and/or fake—with pick-up artists, if the perception of confidence is strong enough it creates and perpetuates the reality. But that confidence is still held up by a perceived script that sometimes the prospective sheila follows and other times goes off script.

In the end it's pretty damn simple, you have to like who you are as a person, be confident with who you are... and just be yourself. If she's a good match, things will just click and if things don't click chances are it wouldn't have worked out anyway as the two of you may likely just have incompatible personalities. Life’s too short to dwell on it.

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Now playing: Jim Steinman - Surf's Up
via FoxyTunes

Reliving Memories

An interesting question was broached over on Zuluspar's blog.

If you could relive one memory what would it be?

I had to think a bit on this one, it's not an easy question to answer. The more I thought, the more I kept coming back to the same answer.

The first time I fell in love. There's a youthful innocence in that experience that is never quite replicated. It's a newness, a freshness of experience. It's often more positive than losing one's virginity-- which due to fumbling inexperience rarely lives up to one's expectations.

Falling in love for the first time, exceeded my wildest expectations. I thought I'd been in love before, but given the stratospheric highs of the experience, I knew that I'd merely been in lust before. There was something unrivaled about the experience.

We'd worked together at an amusement park for most of the summer, we started spending more and more time together off the clock as well as on the clock. Initially we were both in relationships with people who were absent. People who scarcely wrote, people we were hanging onto our relationships with more out of habit than out of any lingering emotions. When we finally severed our respective ties to our distant others. We both had a sense of freeness that had been missing before. We'd grown so close has friends and there was a certain tension of something more there.

One night we'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, as we awoke our lips were literally mere inches apart. The tension had grown to a fever pitch and eventually our lips touched and I was floored. As far as first kisses went, this had rivaled my first ever kiss and my first kiss with my then recent ex.

We had our ups and downs, but the distance was too much to bear and our lives eventually took us in other directions. Even after we split up our paths crossed a handful of times and on those occasions there was still something their, the vestiges of what we'd shared.

I remember that it took close to a year after she and I split up before I was ready to consider seriously dating anyone again. I casually dated here and there, but I was numb to any potential for more with any of those girls. There were some interests there but I seemed to accidentally on purpose sabotage any potential for anything more each and every time.

While I eventually did love like that again, and I did feel those tremendous highs again-- the next time around I had my guard up. I was in a couple relationships where I loved but wasn't in love and then Cupid's arrow struck again. However that time, because of how things had ended the first time around, as happy as I was, there was always a slight tugging restraint. I never gave her all of myself, even as I was in love with her. It felt too good to be true for me to be in love like that again... I was perpetually waiting for the other shoe to drop and in so doing it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. And once again I was put in a place where I coasted through life merely going through the motions numb to any real emotion, my guard up my wounds still fresh.

And right about then I started a correspondence via a mutual friend with the woman who eventually became my wife. I guess what they say is true, third time's the charm.

So, your turn. If you could re-live any memory what would it be?

On Marriage

Awhile back I pondered whether men are afraid of commitment or just of failure when it comes to marriage.

In the latest issue of Guideposts there's an article on The Secret to 60 Years that kind of extrapolated on the idea I had pondered in that aforementioned blog entry.

The thought of spending the rest of your life with the same person can be a bit overwhelming. Routine gets boring and the fear of losing that "spark" of the romance growing boring is a real one. But that's just it, when you marry someone you aren't spending the rest of your life with the same person. People change, and the person one marries will not be the same in 5 years as he/she was on his/her wedding day any more than that person will be the same at their ten year anniversary as he/she was at his/her 5th anniversary.

Life is an adventure and it is about the journey, not the destination. After all, we're all bound for the same general destination and our lives are made richer not by getting there but by HOW we get there.

My wife & I got married the same year my parents celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, her parents have been together for over 30 years, so between our two sets of parents we have over 80 years of marriage to live up to, and two relationships to learn from on our own journey through life together.

I remember a discussion we had on our honeymoon, my wife mentioned she didn't know what I expected of her as a wife. My answer was simple and remains the same as it did then-- I have no expectations. I'm as new to this marriage as she is, it's not about expectations, it's not even about the challenges we face. It's about how we face those challenges together and learn and grow from them.

So, is the prospect of marriage near as daunting, near as scary when you take into consideration that you, much like your chosen mate will change over time? The people you are now, are not the people you will be on your first anniversary let alone your fifth, tenth, or even (if health and circumstances allow) your fiftieth. There is as much adventure in learning and watching each other grow and change as there is in the journey itself. That person won't just be your spouse, that person will be your companion on the journey of life so do choose wisely but also savor and enjoy the choice you make and the journeys you travel together.

Surf's Up

The waves are pounding on the sand tonight
I want to take your hand and make it feel so right
I know I'm ready and I'll never be like this again

And the sky is trembling and the moon is pale
We're on the edge of forever and we're never gonna fail
I know you're ready and we're runnin' on the back of the wind

Chorus:
And my body is burning like a naked wire
I want to turn on the juice, I want to fall in the fire
I'm gonna drown in the ocean in a bottomless sea
I want to give you what I'm hoping you'll be giving to me
And when the waves are pounding on the sand tonight
I want to take your hand and make it good and make it right
And now the sky is trembling and the moon is pale
We're on the edge of forever and we're never gonna fail, no

How hard, how hard, how hard do I gotta try?

Surf's up, surf's up, surf's up and so am I, surf's up and so am I

(chorus)

How hard, how hard, how hard do I gotta try? (I want all of your love)
Surf's up (I need it so bad), surf's up (I need it so bad)
Surf's up and so am I (I gotta give you some love)
Surf's up and so am I, and so am I, and so am I, and so am I

As teenagers we build up that special moment in our minds so much that for far too few of us, it's impossible for the eventual reality to ever match the expectation and fantasy of what we expect and want our first time to be like. Jim Steinman's Surf's Up ever so perfectly captures that feeling, that anticipation of a first experience that we build up so much in our hearts and minds.

The reality is often far coarser and clumsy than the fantasy... It's our first time after all, it's not like we have the experience to be "good and right." I seriously doubt Babe Ruth hit a home run in his very first at bat (he did start off as a pitcher after all, and a damn good one at that). That came with time and experience, it came from learning how to communicate with that special someone or those special someones-- learning which of her buttons to push and when and how.

But still, I remember that feeling. I remember idealizing the experience of not just losing my virginity but also falling in love... and being a teenager of course those feelings and emotions were cranked to eleven. And every time I listen to this song, I can't help but be taken back to my clumsy awkward adolescence... and it puts a smile on my face. In some ways the reality could never have lived up to the fantasy but in other ways the reality was, oh so much better. As a teen I was quite self-absorbed, lost in my own world. I kept to myself, I was a loner by nature. I did have a handful of close friends and they were great but being so self-absorbed, I remember the fantasy being all about me... Whereas the reality is all about the "us." There's a certain symbiosis in love that goes far beyond what I ever imagined it could be.

Related Link
Download Jim Steinman's Surf's Up from Amazon.com

Crossing Wires

With the increasing wisdom gained from the great teacher known as Dr. Life Experience over the years... Well I've known for awhile that men and women are "wired" differently. We think differently. Not better or worse than one another, just different.

I know a lot of gender issues are attributed to a breakdown in communication. But is the breakdown in communication coming from not understanding what one another are saying or is the breakdown coming more from not understanding where one another are coming from? That is to say, we know and understand what we're saying to one another but we still haven't taken that critical step of understanding WHY we think/feel the way we do? It's not what we're saying to one another-- it's the WHY we're saying it and HOW we're wording it.

There is, after all, an inherent difference in the way men and women think and that difference is reflected in the way we speak to one another. We use different words/terms because our focuses are different from one another. Women are traditionally focused/centered more on emotion and men more on logic. Now there are both advantages and drawbacks to both approaches. Being more focused on emotion allows for a greater degree of empathy and an a greater acceptance of all those shades of gray that exist between black and white. Too many shades of gray can end up complicating what might otherwise be simple issues. Being more focused on logic is more conducive to critical thought, snap decisions-- sometimes emotion just gets in the way. The trouble with this is that when it comes to logic there is little room for gray-- it's black or it's white with little or nothing in between.

To put it into a simpler context (albeit some of you may argue this is oversimplified) think of men as coins and women as a deck of cards. An issue arises and the man sees two possible solutions to the problem and weighs which makes more sense and acts accordingly. The woman sees 52 different possible solutions and weighs them accordingly.

I recently read an article in The Globe and Mail, Ghost Dad, Not Deadbeat Dad, the basic gist of which was that divorced men who tend to distance themselves from their children don't do so out of spite, cruelty, or malice but out of shame. As men, our lives are measured in success or failure-- that carries over into not just career but also marriage and fatherhood. A divorce is seen as a "failure" and when men fail we feel ashamed. Unfortunately, for some divorced men, they look at their children as reminders of failure and it makes them feel ashamed. Upon reading that I felt rather crushed for these men-- Can you imagine any time you look at your child being reminded of a failed marriage and thus feeling shame? Feeling shame when you look at your own kids?

Unfortunately, that only compounds the problem. In being so ashamed of their failed marriage these very same men end up failing at fatherhood which only compounds that shame... A vicious self-perpetuating cycle. Keep in mind, I'm not referring to deadbeat dads here. I'm referring to the dads who do pay the child support but are noticeably absent from their children's lives.

To extrapolate this back out to the bigger picture-- I read another article awhile back (which I've long since lost the link to, unfortunately) that stated that in many troubled marriages it's actually more often the husband than the wife who is willing to work to save the marriage. This was/is largely due to the whole success/failure mentality. The men having a mentality, "if I can't even make my marriage work, I'm a failure at life."

This isn't an issue that touches me directly-- my parents have been married for over fifty-two years, all of my siblings are currently in happy, healthy marriages. I know their marriages aren't always perfect or easy but I also know they've found whatever model they need to follow to work through the rough spots. And being relatively new to the marriage gig (just under 3 years) I know I'm still essentially just a tenderfoot, I'm still working on that model with my wife. But I'm also a strong proponent of men's rights.

We're so often portrayed as violent, cold, uncaring. And admittedly many men are assholes. There are some real jerks out there who give the rest of us a bad name. The trouble is, we don't tend to hear much about the "good guys"-- which I honestly believe is most of us. There have been enough of jerks, creeps, perverts out there to put women on their guard and to make it that much more difficult for us to "connect" with one another as people. And the mass media only further complicates this by focusing on and perpetuating the negative stereotypes... Not just of men, but of women too. Some of those stereotypes as a result become self-fulfilling, life imitating "art" (I use the term VERY loosely in this context).

I guess I'm just trying to do my part to break down some of those barriers, shatter some of the stereotypes, and maybe give some of the other "good guys" who are still out there a reasonable chance at meeting that special someone and maybe help some women better understand us.

Issues of Image

Over on a couple of other blogs I frequent (Can You Be a Part of My Life and Prodigal Daughter) there's been a discussion of body image and a how a person's body image can positively or negatively effect their treatment of others. For example a formerly overweight man coming to grips with the popularity gained from suddenly being physically appealing for a change. Some people are able to handle the change and don't allow the change in their body to adversely effect their interpersonal relationships (platonic, romantic, familial, etc.) and others...

Well with others, there's a comic book-esque personality transformation-- a once kind and noble man or woman becoming intoxicated by the power their newfound "power" (physical attraction) has on those they seek to attract. They seek to "punish" or get revenge on those whom they believe have wronged them in the past... or maybe not those people exactly but people they perceive to be "the same type" by proxy end up feeling the brunt of their pent up anger and angst.

So the once kindly humorous homely gent who used to get teased in school-- rather than treating the ladies with respect because he felt that was the only card he had to play, now has a whole deck of tricks and he aims to use each and every one of them to humiliate, put-down, and/or berate all those he views as having been the prom queens, cheerleaders, and other girls who in the past, didn't give him a second glance or acknowledge his existence.

But perception creates reality, and false perceptions can turn into truth by way of self-fulfilling prophecies. The once homely gent who has cleaned himself up... it used to be he couldn't get dates because he was unattractive to those he sought to attract... now he'll have trouble getting dates because he's an asshole to all the women he does date... He's cashing in all the bad karma he's collected over his life and dishing it out to people who had nothing to do with it...

Or as Jay McInerney once described it in his Story of a Life, it's a "chain of pain."

It's not right, of course, but it is inherently human... We get hurt and the first reaction is to lash out and hurt those who hurt us. When they're unavailable the urge is sometimes there to hurt others whom we feel are representative of those who did hurt us... hurt them and by proxy you hurt those who hurt you. It's quite flawed logic, but when one is hurt and/or angry, sound logic seldom gets paid attention to. And thus we end up with the "chain of pain."

What makes it such a huge mess, is that many of those who are caught in this chain don't even realize it. And the trouble is, it's really hard to break the chain. You can't be blunt after all, I mean telling an asshole that he's being an asshole will only piss off said asshole that much more and only further perpetuate the chain of pain... You might or might not end up being the next link in the chain but someone else certainly will be-- even if you aren't...

So later on, after reading about body image and how a change in body and thus body image can adversely affect some people I was reading on the late Dennis Wilson (the Beach Boy, the only one who actually was an honest-to-God surfer). And in the article I was reading on him there was a quote and it made me think to myself, maybe that's how to break the chain:

I give everything I have away. What I am wearing and what’s in that suitcase is it. I don’t even have a car. I have a 1934 Dodge pick-up truck which someone gave me. I could have anything I want. I just have to go out and get it. If it’s worth having, it’s worth giving. The smile you send out will return to you!

It's a chain of love-- it's not about giving back to the world what you get out of it... Because quite honestly the world has heaped some serious piles of shit on some people and you don't really want that spread around, now do you? It's about giving back to the world BETTER than what the rest of the world has given you. If the world has been good to you, give EVEN BETTER back to the world.

I won't deny that there are some folks out there who probably do legitimately deserve the shit that gets piled on them. And on the occasions when I come into contact with such people there is that part of me that would love nothing more than to give such people just what they have coming to them... But if I give them that, it just means it's going to go right back into the chain of pain... and while dishing said shit out might not put me in the chain, I would certainly be contributing to it. And in the end, you have to ask yourself, is it really worth it?

*My apologies to both Lauren and Barbara as I've taken this discussion from their blogs in a very different direction... My mind just started going in a different direction and this is where I ended up.

Reflections on life and love in literature and music

So I've been reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's debut novel, This Side of Paradise-- likely Fitzgerald's most autobiographical tome. As I'm reading about the love shared by Amory and Rosalind I'm left feeling a bit touched that Fitzgerald would give his readers such an intimate glimpse into the love he felt for Zelda as Rosalind was at least loosely based on his wife, Zelda.

But the constant in Fitzgerald's writing is a certain loss of innocence or fall from grace-- the reality of the fragility of life underneath the illusion that life is grand.

On a similar tangent, today I was reading an excellent post by Sam de Brito on the "Peter Pan syndrome"-- a certain type of guy who refuses to grow up, perpetually relieving his youth by dating college girls and going to work in jeans and ratty old Converse sneakers. de Brito makes the argument that these blokes are the ones who at one point in their lives were burned nee charred by love to the extent that the connections they seek in life tend to be casual and fleeting due to that strong a fear of getting burnt again.

He also brought up the very real potential that these Peter Pan types will end up quite alone which brought to mind a certain Harry Chapin song

"and the little man
looked at the empty glass in his hand
and he smiled a crooked grin
He said, 'I guess I'm out of gin
And I know we both have been
So lonely
And if you want me to come with you
Then that's alright with me
'cause I know I'm going nowhere
and anywhere's a better place to be"-- from A Better Place to Be by Harry Chapin

What is it about some of us that allows us to risk that being burnt again in the game of love where others avoid love after getting burned by its scorching intensity just once? I thought about what made me the type who was willing to risk (and inevitably experience) that pain multiple times. And I think I can trace it back to a passage I once read in one of Douglas Coupland's books. The basic idea of the passage being that the possibility of becoming numb to lows of life comes with it the opposite side of the same coin-- the risk of becoming numb to the highs of life as well. At some point I just decided that the lowest lows were worth it because they made me appreciate the highest highs that much more. Each time I got burned it just made me appreciate love that much more the next time around-- an emotional education in love if you will.

Getting back to Fitzgerald, I'm left thinking-- perhaps the reason many of us don't enjoy reading the classics in high school is that we lack the emotional experience that allows us to empathize with the characters. I read Hemmigway's For Whom the Bell Tolls in high school and didn't much care for it. I read his The Sun Also Rises a few years after graduating college and absolutely loved it. On some level I could empathize with Jake Barnes in a way I'd not been able to do with Robert Jordan in high school. I hadn't yet lived enough. Both Fitzgerald and Hemmingway were able to touch on very real human emotions but only after they had steeled their emotions from the experiences in the grand adventure of life. Now with Fitzgerald, while I don't necessarily care for him, there's something about Amory Blaine that I can relate to in a way that I'd not been able to do with Nick Carraway in The Great Gatsby. Much like with For Whom the Bell Tolls I wasn't "there" yet emotionally when I read Gatsby, I had a bit more living to do (that being said, I quite enjoyed The Great Gatsby when I read it in high school-- to the point where I used to refer to my friends as "old sport" which I'm sure got old fast).

Thinking back to the books I truly did enjoy reading in high school-- Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird and John Knowles' A Separate Peace the protagonists in those books are either children or adolescents. Lee and Knowles recaptured an innocence of youth that at the time I was able to relate to in a way that felt far more familiar than Hemmingway or Fitzgerald (heck I've even gone back and re-read A Separate Peace at least 3 times since high school-- it remains a favorite of mine to this day).

For my wife...

Tonight I was thumbing through my paper journal and found a couple of entries I wrote before I got married:

So here I am, somehow I finally feel some sense of home. The thing is, it's not a geographic location. It's not my apartment, where I grew up, or any of the places I've lived. Home is where it finally just feels right. It's not where I lay my head at night, it's not the place where I eat my meals. Home to me is who I come home to, it's the sum of my experiences with her-- the inside jokes, the smiles, the laughter, the shared tears, all the points in between the highest highs and the lowest lows.

Home is where life feels complete, where everything feels right with the world. Home is in her smile, her laugh, the way she knows me like no other. Home is the way she curls up in my arms on cold winter's day.

But what it all comes down to-- all the experiences we share-- it's not any one thing about her. It's the sum of her parts-- the sum of OUR parts-- all the experiences we've shared, all the experiences we're yet to share.

Home is, in a word, "us."

And a few months later:

In my heart lie all the words that describe my feelings for you. And no matter how much I say, no matter how much I write those words will never be spoken nor written.

They are too deep, too far down-- buried so deep inside me that they shall never escape. Some, most, if not all of those words don't exist yet, they may never.

They are the blueprints of all I feel for you. Every thought, dream, wish, just waiting to be imagined into existence.

You are the muse behind every word I write or ever will write-- you are the inspiration forming my feelings-- my being-- the sum of all that I am into something far greater than I ever imagined.

I give you all of me because it's already yours. I give you every smile, laugh, nod, kiss, hug-- I give you all of it.

I give you all of it because you keep me believing, you keep my imagination flowing because with you-- every dream, every wish is that much deeper because I get to share it with you.

And you know in the time since I wrote those things, it's only grown stronger. I see the future in her eyes and I feel incredibly lucky that I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.

On Mountain Climbing

So, last week, I climbed Debar Mountain with my wife. This was my 3rd trek up. The last time I climbed it I was in high school, and the first time I went up, I was 10 years old.

Toni had never climbed a mountain before. And maybe Debar wasn't the best choice for a first (9 miles round trip and the last bit of it is a real doozy), but I wanted it to be her first because it was my first. I wanted to experience it for the first time all over again. There are easier and more difficult peaks to climb in the Adirondacks. But honestly, despite growing up there I've never climbed any others (at least not in the Adirondacks-- I've climbed a few in Maine though).

Anyway, as it had been so long since my last climb-- I'd forgotten how long a hike it was, how buggy it was, and how long it took to climb the last chunk of it (about 0.8 mile/1.2 km). I'm sure I drove Toni nuts saying "not much farther" repeatedly (to the point where she asked me to stop saying it "or else"-- I stopped saying it before finding out what "or else" was).

So when we finally crested the summit and ate our lunch overlooking the Adirondack Mountains, the lake below where my family was camping, and the pond nearby where I'd gone to Scout Camp several years ago it was like seeing it for the first time all over again. This time though I was as much in awe of Toni's reaction to the view as I was in the view itself. I also relished the absolute silence and knowing I couldn't be reached by phone, cell-phone, laptop, walkie-talkie or any other device.

And the thing is, due to lack of nearby cell phone towers, the heights of the peaks, the 40 ft. limit on any towers, and the high content of iron-ore in the Adirondack Mountains, it's near impossible to get a cell phone signal not only on that mountain but also anywhere at the campsite where my family was staying. My parents mentioned they'd found a spot near a road sign about 4 miles away from the campground but I purposely opted not to test that theory.

It was just so refreshing and so relaxing to know I couldn't be reached. I was on vacation not just from my job but from the problems of everyday life and the world around me. I didn't want or need a TV. I didn't want or need technology of any sort. In fact I avoided it as much as possible and relished every minute of having that "cord" cut.

Toni went into this vacation not expecting to enjoy it but keeping an open-mind nonetheless. She came out of the vacation looking forward to next year and wishing it wasn't already over. The things she was dreading the most (the showers in particular) she ended up not minding quite so much. We even picked out a couple of waterfront sites we want to put our names in for for next year.

Are men really afraid of commitment?

In a recent blog entry, Sam de Brito addressed/answered “Why your boyfriend doesn’t want to get married.” He addressed commitment-phobia and other possible reasons. But much like Sam’s blog often does, he got me to thinking… Are men really afraid of commitment? Or is it more a matter of them taking the commitment of marriage more seriously than women?

Before scoffing at such a bold concept, climb aboard my train of logic. Men generally are very results/success driven. That is to say, by and large, we like to be successful in ALL aspects of our lives-- Sports, career, life, love, marriage, family, etc. etc. With the divorce rate being as high as it is, is it really that much of a stretch to believe that men don’t want to contribute to that negative statistic? We want successful marriages and as such we’re a bit choosier, more methodical in our search for the perfect mate. If and when we commit we want to be assured of a high likelihood of success.

To extrapolate on that is the high divorce rate due to:

Couples not taking marriage seriously enough?

Couples having unrealistic expectations of what marriage should be and giving up when those marriages fail to meet their unrealistic expectations?

Divorce being far too common?

A combination of any/all of the above?

I don’t honestly believe that many guys are really that afraid of commitment, I believe it’s more a fear of failure of that commitment working out. Men do tend to be more driven by logic than emotion—it’s not a bad thing or a good thing, it’s just the way many of us are wired.

Marriage is an “investment” for us, not so much a financial one (although that still does play into it in some regards), but also a tremendous time and a rather overwhelming emotional investment. And despite divorce being so common, it’s not exactly easy to do legally or emotionally. Before making that “investment” men like to make sure—at least within reason, that their investment will be a sound one and that they’ll see a positive return on it (lifelong companionship and eventually a family). We want success we don’t want to file for “bankruptcy” (divorce) if we can at all avoid it. And I believe that is what makes men so tentative when making such an important and life-changing commitment.

Another factor in the perceived male fear of commitment is that men are generally more resistant to change than women. If things are going well, why rock the boat? Right? So if a man is happy in a relationship, things are going well—marriage is a change in that. For many yes that may be a positive change, but it’s still a change. When you pair a woman eager to enact positive change with a man who is generally resistant to change, there will be friction. I think what makes successful relationships is the realization that changes happen. You can’t force it any more than you can resist it. Once both people in a relationship realize and accept that they stop expending so much energy in trying to force change (her) or resisting change (him) and more time growing and changing together.

Thoughts, ideas, opinions? The floor is yours, discuss amongst yourselves.

Sex, Drugs & Rock and Roll is the "new" Wine, Women and Song

I recently embarked upon the literary journey that is Neil Gaiman's Anansi Boys. So far it's a delight and far more enjoyable than his previous tome, American Gods.

So these two brothers, Charles and Spider have just met shortly after their father's funeral. And Spider suggests they need to "properly" mourn their father and the best way to mourn is by fulfilling three basic needs-- Wine, Women, and Song.

All Aboard, my train of thought is about to depart...

So, this got me to thinking-- we still clamor for those 3 basic vices; perception altering substances, physical intimacy/companionship, and music (doesn't have quite as catchy a ring to it when I put it that way, does it?) . And when we're in mourning our "need" for those 3 vices does seem to increase substantially.

A wake is essentially just an excuse to drown ones sorrows at the loss of a loved one and/or celebrate that person's life with anecdotes and reminisces of the departed's life with copious amounts of alcohol to lubricate the tongue.-- The Wine/Drugs.

Generally after tragedies or disasters there's a spike in the rate of human conceptions (remember how there seemed to be a spike in the summer of 2002-- about nine months after 9/11/01? When something bad happens, we just want to be close to someone. We don't want to deal with the pain or shock on our own. We clamor for companionship... one thing leads to another... bada bing the clothes are on the floor and your smokin' fags in bed with a contented grin on your faces-- The Women/Sex.

There's generally some form of music at funerals-- usually just the mournful instrumental dirges played on an endless loop in the background at your neighbourhood funeral parlour, but sometimes it's the homely/comely church lady (which lady you get depends on your "church" I s'pose) belting out Wind Beneath My Wings or the drunk uncle that no one can quite figure out how he's related doing a rousing rendition of Sinatra's My Way at the wake-- at any rate there you have it-- The Song/Rock & Roll.

And to think the coal that stoked the fire on this train of thought was just a couple of paragraphs in a Neil Gaiman novel.

Captain Jack

There’s always been something about Billy Joel’s music. They capture moods, they paint aural murals to be taken in, savored, and stored away for future enjoyment. Perhaps one of Joel’s finest aural murals is Captain Jack.

At over seven minutes long and chocked full of images it’s easily one of his “busiest” pieces. He sings of what we know, either from our own experiences or because we know or are at least peripherally familiar with the people of which he sings. The thing which makes the song so deeply personal is the level of detail Joel uses whether it’s the “tape deck in your brand new Chevrolet” or whether “they just found your father in the swimming pool” the details are so incredibly specific yet at the same time so universal that Joel is able to “connect” with all of his listeners. He hits that melancholy nerve of ennui that so many of us suffer from and he pulls it all together with the fictitious drug dealer, “Captain Jack.”

We all have our own “Captain Jack”—that someone or something that makes life enjoyable or bearable, that magical thing which gives us our escape from the madness of life. For some it’s drugs, others alcohol, but for many of us its nothing so glamorous or damaging. Simple companionship is the Captain Jack that so many of us long for. So, part of what makes Captain Jack such a well-painted aural mural is that it gives that sense of companionship. In many ways, the song itself is a “Captain Jack.” Because it captures that chord of melancholy and loneliness so well, Billy Joel, is essentially letting us all know that even in our darkest hours, those moments when life has landed you with the mother of all sucker punches… You aren’t alone. Captain Jack is just the reminder we all need from time to time that whenever life gets us down, when we’re at our worst and loneliest. We’re not alone in our experiences.

So now I’m left to ask, who or what is YOUR “Captain Jack?”

(cross-posted @ The Review Revue)

breaking the silence (or is it the wind)

I've been really busy lately, between the move and things at work. I'm prepping for a trip to Toronto for a regional meeting early next month.

Oh and I'm a huge Mets fan... consideirng it's been six years since they've been in the playoffs and twenty since they won the World Series, I'm quite excited about that.

In other news... I have an awesome wife. I mean, I know... all happily married husbands would say the same, but Toni has gone all out for my thirtieth birthday.

1) She invited my friend Sarah from high school to come out for my 30th birthday party. Sarah booked her flight a few weeks back-- so that's cool beans.

2) Season 3 of Arrested Development-- for Christmas last year she got me seasons 1 & 2. So now I have the complete series (and much happiness!)

3) 2 tickets to see Toto live at the Chicago House of Blues... Yes, Toto as in Rosanna, Hold the Line, and Africa. I'm a big fan and this band is indirectly responsible for my wife & I meeting. And yes I just admitted I'm a big Toto fan (in case you're rubbing your eyes to make sure you read that right). I dragged my wife to see Chicago live once and to see Peter Cetera live once... I've assured her that Toto puts on a much more uptempo and lively show than either Peter Cetera or Chicago.

4) She contacted my family and asked that they spend Thanksgiving at my brother's in Virginia so that we could belatedly celebrate my birthday as a family. Not all of my family will make it but my sister is driving up to Virginia from South Carolina with her husband and 14 year old to celebrate with my brother, his family, and my parents who are driving down from NY state to also join us. So we'll have a partial or at least a mini reunion... On top of that Toni has never met this particular brother of mine nor his family. And this will be my first time meeting my great-nephew, Kevin, who will be just over a year old by Thanksgiving.

On top of that she's assured me that there's something else she's saving for my actual birthday next week.

On another note-- before becoming a homeowner, I was told it changes you and brings you closer to that special someone. I believed what I was told but I didn't fully appreciate the extent to which it would happen. There's less arguing, more cuddling, and our times together just seem that much more special.

Less is More... or is More Really Less?

The other day Samantha Brett tossed out a question on her Sam and the City blog, when being physically/sexually attracted to the opposite sex more skin/less clothes or more clothes/less skin. To which I responded:

I tend to agree with the more philosophy. It's not just that dressing provocatively gives off the "community property" vibe, it can also give off the vibe that:

a) Your body is all you have to offer, there's not much "under the hood" so to speak.

b) By dressing provocatively you're drawing attention away from your face, if you're trying to draw so much attention to your body what are you trying to draw attention away from?

A woman's body is beautiful, flaws and all. The "flaws" are what make you you and seperate you from "the pack."

And generally disrobing in front of someone shows a certain level of trust, a dropping of the guard. Men are generally more guarded than women and under-dressing gives the impression that the women are more open and sometimes that openness is a bit intimidating for men. "If you're that open about what you wear, what else are you that open about?"

So ladies, if you're trying to snare a bloke, wear clothes that accentuate your positives, not clothes that lay them bare for the world to see.

Your thoughts?

Exile at the Library

It seems AT&T has deemed it necessary to turn off our phone signal a bit prematurely and thus my DSL is also down (at least until Saturday when it gets turned on at the new pad) so I find myself accessing the Internet at the local library.

Enough about that though...

I recently finished reading J. Maarten Troost's Getting Stoned With Savages which made me re-evaluate that gnawing wanderlust to chuck it all and relocate to some remote South Pacific island (come on, haven't we ALL had that fantasy at some point or another, the Chicago winters are excellent fuel for that fantasy!).

It also got me to thinking about the whole wanderlust thing and comparing it to sex appeal and why some people cheat-- it's that whole "the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence" mentality. Or as John Cusack so ineloquently put it, it's about the fancy underwear... When you're with someone new they're dressed to impress, generally the lasses wear their best panties, that doesn't mean they don't have the god-awful granny panties, those come later after a certain level of comfort is reached. But that whole desire for somewhere else or someone else comes from the fantasy of the newness, of the "fancy panties" if you will. But we get so caught up in that fantasy that we often forget, in that same dark drawer where the fancy panties came from also lie the granny panties and eventually she's going to wear those granny panties when she's with you.

I think for many of us straight lads, that's when the "commitment switch" kicks in... when we realize that for all those pretty girls we aren't with... as pretty as they may be on the surface, they come with a whole set of baggage that we don't know about just from givin' them a fair glance, whereas the lasses at home already know our favorite foods, our pet peeves, all the shit you'd have to teach the new lass were you to get to know her... and who knows, her dirty laundry may be even dirtier than the laundry your current lass has that you already know about and have come to accept. We get to that point and realize that no matter what else is out there, no matter how nice it might look on the surface, it can't compare to the person we already have or the place where we already live.

And to think I got all that from reading a travel memoir of a guy who spent some time in Vanuatu and Fiji... The mind works in mysterious ways.

"Hot chemistry... or a sustainable relationship"

In today's Sam & the City blog posting, Samantha Brett breached an interesting topic on chemistry vs. sustainable relationship. Normally I just read Samantha Brett & Sam de Brito's blogs over on the Sydney Morning Herald website, but today I felt compelled to respond to Samantha's blog posting:

Before I met my wife I was in a head-over-heels, totally devoted relationship with a girl for about 8 months. The sparks flew from the start.

But what I noticed in that relationship and others I've been in, the relationships that start out as bonfires are usually the ones in which the passion burns out the fastest.

With my wife, we started out as friends and laid the foundation for something more. The passion and love grew from that passion. We didn't start out with a bonfire, we started out with a spark which we've nurtured into a steady burning fire. We have our ups and downs but I think we weather them far better than we'd be able to had we started out with an over-the-top, gushing, bonfire romance.

Maybe it's just me, but I noticed the earlier and hotter the fire burns for someone... the quicker that fire burns out.

Maybe the issue is that with our fast-food culture we want instant gratification. We want "fast-food" results in our love lives too. And true love isn't a fast-food prospect. Lust is the "fast-food" of relationships. It's intensely satisfying for an incredibly brief span of time. The kind of love that lasts, takes time to prepare and cook and rather than be shared in a handful of frantic wild chandelier-swinging mattress gymnastics real true and lasting love should be cultivated and savored over time.

Current Music: Supertramp - Take the Long Way Home