It seems that there was quite a response to the idea that love may be a many splintered thang. From those brave enough to respond, I am gathering that this whole notion of sexes having a tendency to act one stereotypical way or the other when it comes to relationships is a myth promulgated by a self-help relationships industry thriving on us as we strive to better our lives . Realistically speaking, bastards and bitches come from the same kennel, they are only separate by a matter of degrees.
When it all boils down to it, aren't we talking about ceding to another power over your life and once you realize what happened, spending a good part of whats left trying to wrestle it back. Instead of enjoying her life and appreciating herself for who she is and what she has accomplished, one of the comment talks about being minute woman of love and making herself readily available for when the quarterly clarion call arrived. We have all cancelled or didn't make plans with true friends in anticipation of that one date where someone made promises to call by Six. By the end of the evening, we only to end up with self doubt, over-analyzing why we are so unworthy and turn to a medieval variation of mental self-flagellation whose physical manifestation is the chomping of a bag of Cheetos, which in turn leads to trying to figure out what gives with the orange smudged pillow in the morning.
So, why are we so willing to hand over those reins that the universe placed in our hands only? Is it this fear that we all have of being and dying alone. Even those who loudly announce to any captive audience that marriage or relationships are not for them. Aren't they really just trying to convince themselves! At least in my life, the reins were never in my hands, even as a kid. Allowing another to make all decisions takes the pressure off some of us, but it also takes an important part of our being, the freedom to choose. In my experience, this has been true in the full gamut of relationships with others, irregardless of their sex.
So when we talk about rushing off to meet Mr. or Ms. Wonderful because they have decided to grace us with the presence, think twice. Is being involved on a limited basis with this person worth the torture that you will put yourself through or all the months he does not call? Aren't you worthy of a person who is considerate of you because they relish the moments you share. The inner voice has always told you what road to take, but if you are like me we have in the past ignored it, brushing off sage advice handed own through the generations. I have always know in my heart that some people, even women I married, were male or female Veruca Salts willing to suck all out of you to keep their egos happy. Yet, I played my role because I did not deserve better.
Well, frankly, maybe it is time for us to just stop, and hit the bad egg button on some people in our life. You can love them for who they are and what they have brought into your life. Hating them does not do anything but use up energy that could be funneled into more useful endeavors. The realization that only you can cede your life to another should bring about the revelation that you can stop it now.
So, the next time you get that quarterly call, not relinquishing your right to happiness will go a long way in putting you back on the path the universe has meant for you,
So Sez Sax...
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Does Love Conquer All??
As I was ruminating with a close friend of mine much to my surprise, the following phrase came booming out of her mouth, "Love Does Not Conquer All." For a second, I felt like Heston's Moses and was ready to fling myself on the sands of the Sinai as YWH was revealing one of the laws of relationships. After all, we had all just been at a wedding the night before and witnessed two people announce their vows of a lifetime commitment before friends and families. Did they mean what they said and say what they meant?
Having a time or two, or three(or was it four, and almost five..but other than my mother, whose counting) made the same ill-fated promises that were destined to be broken, I had to wonder what obstacles and trials we all have to face where the idea of being in love would provide the tie that kept a relationship or marriage together long enough to relish the rewards of aging and be able to both get the senior discount at the same time.
As I consider my own relationships and those of my closest friends, there are at least two obstacles that not even the idea of being in love can conquer. These roadblocks to happiness can be converted to speed bumps only through the realization that you are not there to complete another, but are there to compliment and enjoy your lives together. Completing infers an intrinsic need that should only be met by yourself. Complementing infers a sharing between two people whose souls have connected.
Selfishness is one of the roadblocks that cannot be conquered by love. When we enter into relationships with one who is so engrossed in their own life and activities their partner becomes less than a passing thought, you are set to be doomed. This is much different from those who need to be complimented to enhance their own self worth. The selfish do not consider the relationship a partnership. They are so engrossed in their own here and now that no one else matters. This is one of the ultimate shape-shifters in that it takes on many forms.
The most obvious is the egotistical partner who considers anyone else a lower form in who should be the cowardly lion in their Ozonian presence. This is the guy/gal who sucks your personality dry and then watches you like a hawk or has to always insult you even in the most subtle ways to insure it never returns. The less subtle of these forms is the chronic manipulator whose constant victimization is another form of selfishness and control. You get hooked when you feel sorry for this person in that no one should be so abused, yet one day, when you are trying to leave them, you are now destroying their life no matter how much has been stripped of your own. I have met both and there is no difference in the end between the two.
The other impediment to happiness is the idea of substance abuse. I am big fan of the 21st Amendment and will partake in a nip or two at the local pub. But as I see beautiful people place their life on hold or stop living to help a partner deal with the issue, I find it too frightening. There plenty of times as a child when I related to the Kirk Russell in “Follow me Boys” and did not want my father around. I watched from a flight of stairs as my parents fought over the drinking. The inability of a partner to deal with this demon is devastating, especially when one's own life patterns are changed in order to assist one we love. This is not limited to alcohol, but as we watch a person we care about slip over the deep-end, we are so close to being taken down with them.
Can love ever conquer selfishness and substance abuse? Only when your partner recognizes these issue, admits there is a problem, and on their own takes a real, tangible initiative, can you start on a road towards this goal of happiness. Can it be attained? Only if one truly commits. Part of the problem is dealing with the end results of what living with this type of person does to another. There develops a distance and lack of trust that envelopes you and prevents one who may care from getting close. When that happens, the ex-partner wins in that they are still affecting your future relationships for years to come.
So, do a better job in recognizing these flaws than I and there may not have to be so much explaining of past “mistakes” to a future partner. Learn lessons better than I and don't get involved with the same personality in the future. We all deserve that chance to enter such a fine, healthy establishment as a Village Inn for the early bird senior special, plop down a useless menu from which we have ordered the same thing for the past 40 years, and look into the eyes of one who you would be willing to eat mud just to spend the time with her,
So Sez Sax...
Having a time or two, or three(or was it four, and almost five..but other than my mother, whose counting) made the same ill-fated promises that were destined to be broken, I had to wonder what obstacles and trials we all have to face where the idea of being in love would provide the tie that kept a relationship or marriage together long enough to relish the rewards of aging and be able to both get the senior discount at the same time.
As I consider my own relationships and those of my closest friends, there are at least two obstacles that not even the idea of being in love can conquer. These roadblocks to happiness can be converted to speed bumps only through the realization that you are not there to complete another, but are there to compliment and enjoy your lives together. Completing infers an intrinsic need that should only be met by yourself. Complementing infers a sharing between two people whose souls have connected.
Selfishness is one of the roadblocks that cannot be conquered by love. When we enter into relationships with one who is so engrossed in their own life and activities their partner becomes less than a passing thought, you are set to be doomed. This is much different from those who need to be complimented to enhance their own self worth. The selfish do not consider the relationship a partnership. They are so engrossed in their own here and now that no one else matters. This is one of the ultimate shape-shifters in that it takes on many forms.
The most obvious is the egotistical partner who considers anyone else a lower form in who should be the cowardly lion in their Ozonian presence. This is the guy/gal who sucks your personality dry and then watches you like a hawk or has to always insult you even in the most subtle ways to insure it never returns. The less subtle of these forms is the chronic manipulator whose constant victimization is another form of selfishness and control. You get hooked when you feel sorry for this person in that no one should be so abused, yet one day, when you are trying to leave them, you are now destroying their life no matter how much has been stripped of your own. I have met both and there is no difference in the end between the two.
The other impediment to happiness is the idea of substance abuse. I am big fan of the 21st Amendment and will partake in a nip or two at the local pub. But as I see beautiful people place their life on hold or stop living to help a partner deal with the issue, I find it too frightening. There plenty of times as a child when I related to the Kirk Russell in “Follow me Boys” and did not want my father around. I watched from a flight of stairs as my parents fought over the drinking. The inability of a partner to deal with this demon is devastating, especially when one's own life patterns are changed in order to assist one we love. This is not limited to alcohol, but as we watch a person we care about slip over the deep-end, we are so close to being taken down with them.
Can love ever conquer selfishness and substance abuse? Only when your partner recognizes these issue, admits there is a problem, and on their own takes a real, tangible initiative, can you start on a road towards this goal of happiness. Can it be attained? Only if one truly commits. Part of the problem is dealing with the end results of what living with this type of person does to another. There develops a distance and lack of trust that envelopes you and prevents one who may care from getting close. When that happens, the ex-partner wins in that they are still affecting your future relationships for years to come.
So, do a better job in recognizing these flaws than I and there may not have to be so much explaining of past “mistakes” to a future partner. Learn lessons better than I and don't get involved with the same personality in the future. We all deserve that chance to enter such a fine, healthy establishment as a Village Inn for the early bird senior special, plop down a useless menu from which we have ordered the same thing for the past 40 years, and look into the eyes of one who you would be willing to eat mud just to spend the time with her,
So Sez Sax...
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Did She Say Not Yet, or Nyet?
As my hearts pangs for she who is not available and does not return calls, I end up at a second lunch with she who does not show on time. I am trying to maintain a positive attitude on a spiritual, emotional, and physical plane. She is a nice person, who returns calls and when she cancels, makes alternative suggestions. This is novel and could be interesting!
Well, my bevy of Dr. Ruth's or fans of the skinny old lady sex therapist late night television hostess who handles penis-lites as if she has been fencing with those plastic anomalies for years and talks like she would be hot in bed, I am in the horns of a dilemma and would appreciate international feedback as to what I have done or need to do.
We have an interesting lunch and are getting to know each other. She is very attractive and the conversation is steering away from the problems areas that raised hackles at the first encounter, but the attraction that I have always felt for she who does not call is present. (This only serves to anger me as I think of how one fool, her ex to be, has the ability to push those emotional buttons at will and distance her from all those who care). As we leave, there is the traditional non-committal thank you for picking up the check hug and we went our separate ways, she to a job and me over to the nearest four way traffic light carrying the will work to pay for the next date sign
As I came home, sunburned from a long afternoon of getting pelted with cheap people's change, I get a phone call. She happens to be coming over to a fine pizza pie establishment near the Sax Den, so I extend the offer for her to come over and see my etchings(very 1960ish era of me). Well, she comes over and we talk, show her my best framed Pierce's and we move towards the door. I get the thanks for feeding me hug but she seems to linger. As we separate, there is that moment of indecision as to what the next step to be. After all she is a mature, responsible woman, I am an immature fun loving man.
So I think of which look do I give, having a variety to choose from. There is the Shariff-Zhivago gaze look, where the lighting just falls on my jet black coals. May have gone over well in the 60's, but nowadays, may be characterized as creepy and obsessive; there is the indifferent James Dean look, but much more effective with the cig dangling, however I do not smoke; there is the boyish Brad Pitt Cheshire grin look, but I have that permanently affixed Elvis curl lip; or the Bogie look, indifferent yet physically menacing.
While trying to decide the best approach in a millisecond and with synapses shooting off in messages to my lips(purse or no), tongue(stay where you are until further orders), hands(keep them clenched, not breast-ready cupped, behind the back), feet(don't fail me now), eyes(don't shut, hell I can't shut), conscience(what the f--k are you doing), and entire body( sway towards, move back); Of all the patented Hollywood moves, your author picks the Pushme-pullyu approach. For those of you to young to remember, this was the crated animal sent to Rex Harrison's Dr. Doolittle which shared two heads that confused humans pulled in opposite directions. So I leaned forward thinking a kiss was in order and once I heard her utter a phrase, I pulled back with a horrified look on my face.
Did she just say not yet, or did I give her the Zhivago look and had a Soviet era nyet shot at me. Irregardless, I felt like a fool and the panic was setting in. First of all, although she is beautiful, there really is not that same attraction with she who does not call, is my first foray into expanding my horizons and stop being the transitional man a flop? Holy shit, she's a sharer, which means that one who announces to all around her meaningless lunch plans would not hesitate to actually report something worthwhile!!
Needless to say, we both could not wait for her to go. She, I am, sure rushing out for no other reason than to get that pizza before it totally coagulated, and I, to embark on my evening 3 mile run in order to I-Pod blast these thoughts out of my mind with the help of Mick and Keith. I left the traditional message apologizing before I turned off the cell and turned on high volume "All Down the Line."
The question I have for all of the Saxettes is this, do I ask if she said not yet, or was it nyet?Some of you are already thinking get over the one you adore before moving on, but I need to do something. Hanging out with my muses and watching chick flicks is not cutting it anymore. I love them, and the education I have received from their no detail sparing, evil manner of talking about men, is priceless. The one has caught my interest because of her amazing soul is for now totally lost nd in her two week silence is sending me a message. I cannot assume the role of the saving-guy, although I want to be there when she needs a hand.
So where do I go from here,
So asks Sax...
Well, my bevy of Dr. Ruth's or fans of the skinny old lady sex therapist late night television hostess who handles penis-lites as if she has been fencing with those plastic anomalies for years and talks like she would be hot in bed, I am in the horns of a dilemma and would appreciate international feedback as to what I have done or need to do.
We have an interesting lunch and are getting to know each other. She is very attractive and the conversation is steering away from the problems areas that raised hackles at the first encounter, but the attraction that I have always felt for she who does not call is present. (This only serves to anger me as I think of how one fool, her ex to be, has the ability to push those emotional buttons at will and distance her from all those who care). As we leave, there is the traditional non-committal thank you for picking up the check hug and we went our separate ways, she to a job and me over to the nearest four way traffic light carrying the will work to pay for the next date sign
As I came home, sunburned from a long afternoon of getting pelted with cheap people's change, I get a phone call. She happens to be coming over to a fine pizza pie establishment near the Sax Den, so I extend the offer for her to come over and see my etchings(very 1960ish era of me). Well, she comes over and we talk, show her my best framed Pierce's and we move towards the door. I get the thanks for feeding me hug but she seems to linger. As we separate, there is that moment of indecision as to what the next step to be. After all she is a mature, responsible woman, I am an immature fun loving man.
So I think of which look do I give, having a variety to choose from. There is the Shariff-Zhivago gaze look, where the lighting just falls on my jet black coals. May have gone over well in the 60's, but nowadays, may be characterized as creepy and obsessive; there is the indifferent James Dean look, but much more effective with the cig dangling, however I do not smoke; there is the boyish Brad Pitt Cheshire grin look, but I have that permanently affixed Elvis curl lip; or the Bogie look, indifferent yet physically menacing.
While trying to decide the best approach in a millisecond and with synapses shooting off in messages to my lips(purse or no), tongue(stay where you are until further orders), hands(keep them clenched, not breast-ready cupped, behind the back), feet(don't fail me now), eyes(don't shut, hell I can't shut), conscience(what the f--k are you doing), and entire body( sway towards, move back); Of all the patented Hollywood moves, your author picks the Pushme-pullyu approach. For those of you to young to remember, this was the crated animal sent to Rex Harrison's Dr. Doolittle which shared two heads that confused humans pulled in opposite directions. So I leaned forward thinking a kiss was in order and once I heard her utter a phrase, I pulled back with a horrified look on my face.
Did she just say not yet, or did I give her the Zhivago look and had a Soviet era nyet shot at me. Irregardless, I felt like a fool and the panic was setting in. First of all, although she is beautiful, there really is not that same attraction with she who does not call, is my first foray into expanding my horizons and stop being the transitional man a flop? Holy shit, she's a sharer, which means that one who announces to all around her meaningless lunch plans would not hesitate to actually report something worthwhile!!
Needless to say, we both could not wait for her to go. She, I am, sure rushing out for no other reason than to get that pizza before it totally coagulated, and I, to embark on my evening 3 mile run in order to I-Pod blast these thoughts out of my mind with the help of Mick and Keith. I left the traditional message apologizing before I turned off the cell and turned on high volume "All Down the Line."
The question I have for all of the Saxettes is this, do I ask if she said not yet, or was it nyet?Some of you are already thinking get over the one you adore before moving on, but I need to do something. Hanging out with my muses and watching chick flicks is not cutting it anymore. I love them, and the education I have received from their no detail sparing, evil manner of talking about men, is priceless. The one has caught my interest because of her amazing soul is for now totally lost nd in her two week silence is sending me a message. I cannot assume the role of the saving-guy, although I want to be there when she needs a hand.
So where do I go from here,
So asks Sax...
Partial Practical List of First Dates Dont's #1
As I calmly waited for the promised call which once again did not ever come, into my life walks a new person who I happen to meet in the most unlikely of places. As we talked for the very first time, I had strategically placed my vibrate-set cell phone in a place where I would be sure to feel it when the call which would never be made would never arrive.(Sax tip #345, want to get a guy's heart to grow cold, never stimulate it as he places the phone in the shirt pocket next to defective pacemaker in order to guarantee he can feel that which was to never arrive.) Well, 10 minutes of stimulating Sax conversation led to the whipping out of the ol' business card(hers of course) and lunch plans were made.
As I arrived on time, my "lunch date" got there a few minutes late and in we went to one of the more expensive sushi places in town. I had suggested this locale in order to see whether, based upon the expensive fare, it would meet with even the most fainthearted of objections, but to no avail. (Sax Guy Tip #1: Unless the room is goin to be swayin', ain't no use in payin'). So, reflecting upon the whole conversation, I thought about a list of things not to do at the first lunch, the order is based not upon priority, but the randomness of my thought process.
#1. Many of us have children that we extremely proud of, but when the phrase "when you meet my kids" is used, that's all a man will remember from the conversation. That seems presumptuous and already taking that which is not there to the next level. One sees a revolving door of men coming in and out of a kid's life that sets up too many questions. My kids are buzz saws ready to tear up anyone I meet. Are they resentful, no, overly protective-yes. They have seen their father treated badly and have made it a life mission, so long as they can or care, to guarantee that no woman will hurt dad. There is the old adage of "like me, have to like my kids," but too many temporary faces seems to add to instability. My ex likes to introduce them to Velcro man and my kids can only joke about who they term the "latest."
#2. The old "I told everyone we were having lunch," This also raises the hackles in that why do people have to know we are meeting up. What if I'm a jerk, what if I don't show, what if I want to go out with one of your friends, what if I declare this is a dutch lunch. The scenarios are endless, but the point is nerves start getting edgy when all the girls at work know about the "lunch date".
#3. Okay, so you know what I do for a living, why ask me about your own personal questions for a free opinion. Like, fer instance, asking a plastic surgeon to lunch and trying to find out how botox really works and what he/she could do for your body. Not too cool, I have a life, a little interest in that would earn more brownie points than a free session. There is that fine line to be drawn between getting to know you and mooching, learn it and stick to the edge.
#4. Don't it in a position of being able to watch ESPN Deportes and find the arm wrestling match pitting the best of the Vatican City and Antarctica interesting. There is a limit to the amount of glances at the TV to make sure that those collared men in black advance to the next round.
So this is the beginning and on the second date she was only 15 minutes late, an increase of 10% from the last time and I can only hope that by the fifth date she will be showing up on time for the seventh,
So Sez Sax....
Monday, June 9, 2008
Life is Like an Elevator...
From the reaction to my last writing, it seems that the proverbial nerve has been stricken. Watching my sex kitten friends go in and out of relationships while I struggle with my own has been interesting and educational. Over the past year I have ventured into the dating extremes, from a crazy manipulator who had total disregard for anyone around her ( the "I AM # 1" tattoo on her right buttock and should have been a hint, I just thought she cheered in college) to someone I thought had finally accepted me for who I was as a person but ended up just needing a long distance phone partner to help her fall asleep when she was lonely(As my best friend told me, "don't ever call me with the she really likes me for me and not what I do line ever again", which I have avoided since). What I finally began to realize is that these relationships were steps backward and were my feeble attempts to venture into familiar territory.
Meet woman, woman needs help, I help, woman happy, live happily ever after, has been my dating mantra for years. Up and down. Ladies, you have at least once played the damsel in distress card. But my being a sucker for this line was more a reflection on my own faults more than anyone else. In my mind, I was meeting a strong woman who had gone through hell and were ready for that new strong man. I was Bogie, ready to hand over those letters of transit to Victor and Ilsa, and save the free world. But in retrospect, these were people who played the victim more than the strong heroine, either by choice or circumstance. But all these relationships were draining and sucked the life out of me.
That has been my challenge of late. To avoid the pitfalls of the the past, you have to accept the fact that a good part of your adult life has been spent lying next to people who did not really care for you and that you placed yourself in this love quandary. Only once in the recent past have I went to sleep with my arms around someone who for one fleeting moment looked at me with some sort of emotion. Of course, this has also been short lived since her reality is the same as everyone else I met. The one difference between her and others in my past is her vocalization that her instability threatens mine. One could take this as a nice way to blow off someone, but she gets the benefit of the doubt. This only endeared her more to me, but inablity to follow up on the simplest of promises has begun to harden my heart, which I believe is her goal.
As we all go through our struggles with life: debt, kids, more debt, ex's bullshit, more debt, we have this added societal pressure that being alone is an aberration. Even the commercials now tout the wonder drugs that can aid us sexually, no matter what the age. But watching a movie alone as I contemplate life in my boxers isn't that bad. So long as I keep putting the thought out there, the present, which is chock full of kids who adore you, friends you can laugh and enjoy being with, and good health is pretty friggin cool,
So Sez Sax...
Meet woman, woman needs help, I help, woman happy, live happily ever after, has been my dating mantra for years. Up and down. Ladies, you have at least once played the damsel in distress card. But my being a sucker for this line was more a reflection on my own faults more than anyone else. In my mind, I was meeting a strong woman who had gone through hell and were ready for that new strong man. I was Bogie, ready to hand over those letters of transit to Victor and Ilsa, and save the free world. But in retrospect, these were people who played the victim more than the strong heroine, either by choice or circumstance. But all these relationships were draining and sucked the life out of me.
That has been my challenge of late. To avoid the pitfalls of the the past, you have to accept the fact that a good part of your adult life has been spent lying next to people who did not really care for you and that you placed yourself in this love quandary. Only once in the recent past have I went to sleep with my arms around someone who for one fleeting moment looked at me with some sort of emotion. Of course, this has also been short lived since her reality is the same as everyone else I met. The one difference between her and others in my past is her vocalization that her instability threatens mine. One could take this as a nice way to blow off someone, but she gets the benefit of the doubt. This only endeared her more to me, but inablity to follow up on the simplest of promises has begun to harden my heart, which I believe is her goal.
As we all go through our struggles with life: debt, kids, more debt, ex's bullshit, more debt, we have this added societal pressure that being alone is an aberration. Even the commercials now tout the wonder drugs that can aid us sexually, no matter what the age. But watching a movie alone as I contemplate life in my boxers isn't that bad. So long as I keep putting the thought out there, the present, which is chock full of kids who adore you, friends you can laugh and enjoy being with, and good health is pretty friggin cool,
So Sez Sax...
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