Marriage: Yes or No?

I saw a report on television a few days ago concerning a survey which revealed nearly half of Americans questioned reportedly could not see any true value in marriage.

Legally, it is skewed.
Emotionally it can be tortuous.
Financially, it is quite often disastrous.

There is far more to lose than to gain. Clearly the negatives outweigh the positives.
Married men are not even afforded the same opportunity for hope frequently given to convicted felons: the coveted chance for early parole or sentence reduction.

Most of those still holding out hope for a legal union being the answer to it all are simply too unfamiliar with the world to have a grasp on things. They are young, inexperienced with relationships and still fantasizing about such fairy tale possibilities as a prince riding a white horse rolling onto the scene of a gorgeous young maiden laid out on a slab in the wilderness all his for the taking.

Did you ever notice that most of the older people cast in major roles in fairy tales are not ones who children would wish to emulate. They are often cruel or sad figures representing the evils of fading youth. The malevolent king, the evil stepmother, the old wrinkled witch, the sad old lady living in a shoe, the hungry old cannibal lady who is so hungry that she tries to lure lost children into her home and eventually into her oven.

Who wrote these horrible stories and why were they so adamantly against mature folks?

Are You Hosting?

A tick embedded in your skin is always with you. But this companion is neither friend nor an equal partner. It takes from you what it needs to live and gives you nothing in return except possible severe illness.

Unmolested, it will remain with you as long as you permit it to do so: sucking you dry for sustenance. The tick will always be a burden to its host.

It has no special feelings for you and will quickly latch onto another should you become unavailable, unwilling or unworthy.

There are people who behave just like the tick. If you find yourself as a host, wise up and pluck the parasite off immediately.

Divorce provided the opportunity for me to reconnect with my parents

A child matures towards adulthood and seeks to expand his horizons, make his own decisions and experience a long dreamed of freedom. It is completely normal that we depart the home of our parental figures and seek to develop and create our own lives.

After the divorce, I began talking more to my parents. My mother worried about me as well as my young children so I tried to ease their minds by greatly increasing the frequencies of my telephone calls and visits. It was a positive experience that as an adult I had the rare opportunity to reconnect with my parents. My parents clearly enjoyed the increased communication, visits and vacations together as well. All of those experiences most likely never would have had occurred had I continued on the original path of matrimony.

It was a coming home of sorts. It helped me and my parents as well through a difficult time. The resulting closer relationship with my mother was a Godsend; for us both. Dr. Freud would surely have had something to say about that comment, but then his mind ran on a single track. Wherever life took him, his train always circled back to that single station of perverted thought.

Men and Women Don't Hear the Same Thing in Silence

This once again exhibits the extreme difference between men and women. A man

can sit quietly on the sofa, in the car or relaxing on the patio with his preferred female companion without a word being spoken. The silence allows the man to relax and his comfort is definitely enhanced by the knowledge that he has a lovely, faithful companion beside him. These are the times when a man can ponder

how wonderful it is to actually be in a relationship and appreciate the fact that he

has found such a woman with whom he can share such a feeling of partnership. But that same woman, sitting so very near to that relaxed, content man, is not experiencing the same comfortable bliss. Instead, her female mind is racing through scores of scenarios concerned with why he isn’t talking:

Who is he thinking of?

What is he angry about?

Is he going to dump me?

Does he have another woman?

Is he unhappy here?

Is he feeling trapped and is now searching for a way to escape from me?

Is he thinking of something I did which upset him?

Is he remembering the time I didn’t do that thing he wanted me to do?

Is it because of something I said?

Is it because of something I haven’t yet told him?

Is he wondering how much I spent on this dress?

Does he think this dress makes me look fat?

The list is probably without end, but I am working with a man’s brain so I can only must a short compendium of similar worries I’ve heard previously.

I was myself in just such a situation once and it pains me to admit that it was actually me who broke both the silence and the sentiment. “My favorite time with you is when you’re not talking” I said sweetly. Being the astute ladies man that I am quite well known to be, I actually employed this very line on a young lady. Needless to say, it didn’t go over very well. You can pour a half-ton of sweetener of your choice on a pile of crap, but it will never convert it into a desirable treat.

But I’d like to take this opportunity to explain to you the true meaning behind the statement which I never had the chance to explain to my fleeing ex lady friend. What I actually intended was a compliment. It was meant to be an observation that our relationship had reached a point where we didn’t feel the constant need

to impress and entertain each other. We were comfortable with the knowledge that we were both where we wanted to be and we could share a moment of silent togetherness that clearly expressed, even with the absence of words, our devotion and contentment. That was when I had to open my big mouth and ruin it by interjecting my totally unnecessary words of not-too-well-thought-out wisdom.

The Controlling, Bossy Woman

I am not a fan of the overbearing woman. That is not to say that I might not occasionally enjoy being dominated by an aggressive woman, but my particular tastes are focused more on certain intimate occasions on which I shall dwell no further at this time. What I am addressing right now are the women who are unwilling to restrict their overpowering tendencies to private quarters and instead insist on treating a man like a rough chunk of stone just waiting to be sculpted at their fingertips. Real men are meant to be rough and jagged like a stone. Too much grooming and refining will eventually convert a man into a

creepy sort of metrosexual with all the masculinity and personality of an ostrich egg. In my relationships, I desire to be the wielder of the chisel.

A strong, independent woman can be very attractive. In fact, that is exactly what I crave for the long term. But the problem arises when a woman takes on a man not as a partner, but as a project. From the onset she is less focused on who, how and

what he is than who, how and what she believes she can transform him into. It’s the classic princess desiring the frog story in which only she has the powers to lift the ugly that nature cast upon him and reveal his true elegance and potential. In short, it is a disaster waiting to happen.

The truth be told, there are many men who do enjoy being kept. And by kept, I don’t just mean being provided for; heck, I think I could deal with that one if the opportunity ever came along, but this is more about having every aspect of your very being dictated to you. Still, there are plenty of men who enjoy just that. I guess it does free you from the burden of decision making when your partner never asks your opinion and never considers your input. But that just ain’t the thing for me.

There are men who consider the woman’s constant tinkering and perfecting as signs of affection. They will gladly sit up, roll over and perform her every command as if in the throes of canine obedience training; perfectly content with the attention their lover is bestowing upon them. They consider this attention

as true proof of her interest. I believe this view is misguided. If her every effort is meant to alter his behavior, then is it really him that she wants? It seems to me that if she’s trying to cast him in a different mold, then maybe he had better snap out of that pheromone induced trance and consider who it is she is trying to make him emulate. Check it out mate…it is detrimental to your present and future to understand where her motivations are coming from. Clearly she must have an end result in mind and that may be one of a man that she has already had or desires to

have in her life. If a fellow requires such extensive training and changing, he probably isn’t the real man she desires anyway. A ball of clay requires a whole lot of manipulating before it ever reaches the point where it will be placed on display, shown off and bragged about. I’m just saying that if a guy is serving as her clay (not necessarily restricted to guys with the name ‘Clay’) then he ought to have a little concern regarding what she imagines the masterpiece will look like before he completely turns himself over for remaking. Some fellows might never recover from being thrust forcefully onto the spinning knob of that contraption used to form clay. I mean, clearly such an experience can cause serious harm to a man; mentally as well as physically.

Is that your real name?

If you met a girl who introduced herself as "Jing Jing" how would you respond?

Well my reaction was to laugh and ask what the nickname meant.

"That's catchy, but whats your real name?"

She assured me Jing Jing was in fact her true given name.

I found that difficult to believe and somewhat humorous.

My laughter and doubt ended any chances for further conversation.

Yes, she was Asian but come on...Jing Jing??!!

Is that even a real name? Guess I'll never know.

Interpretive Communication

I met another young lady last week. She was attractive and seemingly intelligent based on the initial conversation. A good looking and educated woman: I naturally thought she had potential. So the conversation continued comfortably for a while until we finally met that inevitable first wall of awkward silence. Silence in and of itself is not a bad thing at all, but I have previously pointed out, it conveys different messages to the opposite genders. As a guy, trying to entrance a woman with your witty rap, silence is not your friend. It is never a good thing to give her a break in the conversation in which she can look around the room for other, better prospects as well as allow her a moment to collect her thoughts and formulate an excuse to get away from you. The whole thing really is a game. The confident, persistent guy is actually a performer. He performs a show which accomplishes a combination of entertaining and distracting the girl in an attempt to lead her into a zone of comfort in which she might eventually be able to actually see herself with him. If he can keep her off balance for long enough she will usually consent to sharing her phone number. I know it sounds like I’m explaining the rules of some kind of game, but the truth is that it really is a game. And as odd as this scenario sounds, it really does work. Women are more emotional than logical so they can be won over by the mere passage of time. Investing more time in conversation and greater effort in learning about her will usually pay off. She will depart the encounter with a positive feeling and there is a

chance that it might last until you actually call her, unless you tarry too long in reconnecting. The spell does wear off with time and sincerity seems to erode with delay.

In what I believe must have been an attempt to restart the conversation by impressing me, she bragged that she had just recently earned a certificate in "interpretive communication." A response was expelled from my mouth before my brain was able to review it as I inquired “Why would you need to go to school for that?”

“What do you mean?” she asked with a look of confusion.

“I thought all women were born with that ability.” I said.

“It’s a professional course” she stated bluntly.

“How in the world can that be a course?”

She was not impressed with my sincerity, but it got worse as I

endeavored in my effort to understand her odd course of study.

So I continued: “I’ve never met a woman who didn’t think she

knew what a man’s words ‘meant’ even though her interpretation was often nothing near the originally intended significance of his words.”

For example:

“I need some time alone = I don’t want to be with you.”

“What’ your friends name = I want to make out with your hot friend.”

“I like your haircut = I better say something nice ‘cause it’ll take a long time to grow out.”

“That dress suits you = You look fat because you really are.”

And so on in this ambit.

As you can imagine, this lady did not share the joke and our

encounter quickly fizzled. At least I enjoyed a laugh, but I

wonder whether there is any woman out there who can handle

my wit. I like to laugh a lot, but I don't try to make a joke out of

everything. But, let me warn you, if you claim to be trained in

some form of the psychic art it will probably bring a smile to my

lips and be followed by a slew of questions about the subject,

your education and actual abilities.

So be prepared.