Grumblings from a Transitional Man

Okay, my little Saxettes, did not write a word of 10 days and some of you were already calling out the blog police to see if I was okay. There are those of you who pictured me sunning along a nude stretch of the Costa del Sol, as the rest of the bod strives to reach that tanned face that George Hamilton had to admit was better looking than his own(both face and tan). Others of you had me strolling the casinos in Las Vegas, bleary eyed from making love all night and relinquishing every last bit of human decency begging God for a break with every roll of the die. One of our more creative fans imagined that my legal residence was on 24 hour lock down and I would resurface once the warden gave the all clear.


Well, it's all clear, we have been let out of the cells and away we go.

I have actually been contemplating several aspects of life. The one we will explore tonight is the affect of loneliness on the human psyche. Lately I have slipped and began to feel lonely. Was I actually missing the company of people in my life who, in exchange for occasional sex, were given carte blanch to humiliate me and treat me in a manner that served to validate themselves as a person. When I really contemplated that the Fed Board met more times a year than I engaged in that most carnal of acts(they looked more satisfied after announcing whether the reserve rate was going up or down than I) decided it was not worth it. There is clearly a difference between being lonely and being satisfied to being alone. Loneliness connotes a certain pathos in your existence while being able to stand yourself screams of comfort with the skin God gave you.

Did the feeling of loneliness came from my own selfish desire to feel good that I could have a person around? That was a scary thought and signaled my first realization that I just took a step backwards. While going through the metamorphosis, I had resolved to be alone, get to know who I really am, get in touch with all the qualities that had been leeched out of me, and move forward. But as we meet people, especially those we are attracted to, some have the tendency to slide into old habits and have some person's view tarnish the mirror into which we are looking.

Then it dawned on me! I had become the transitional guy. Oh come on ladies, you know who this is, because you have all used one in the past. he is on the shelf in Wal-mart between the talking fish and the Mr. Perfect string pull doll. He's the guy with the pastel cape and the scarlet letter T on the forehead which can only be made out by humans with a certain estrogen level. This is not the A-Team's Mr. T. This is the after break up guy who is safe. Not the just run to sex guy to get out your anger or reaffirm our desirability. He is good-looking and successful enough to be seen with, has potential to make ex a bit nervous; nice enough that he will not hurt you in the short term; patient enough that he can understand your situation and talk to you; not a control freak, so you can take advantage of the situation and manipulate it, because, of course, you will never let another man tell you what to do; and mature enough to handle it when you tell him to kiss you bye as you utter one of the oldest cliche's "can we just still be friends."

I reflected this Memorial Day weekend on all the past relationships, there was the stark realization that most, if not all, the women in my life were in a state of flux when I met them. After being dogged, they met the nice even tempered, attractive, classy male which was absolutely nothing like the cad who the had been involved with and shazaam, a doomed relationship developed.

So, ladies, when you come across Mr. T, although the natural inclination is to be safe and all the self-help books tell you to use and toss, you may be throwing away the best friend, lover and companion you will ever meet,

So Sez Sax....