Sunday, July 29, 2012


I have changed a lot since this picture was taken, ca. 1984. I was 26, newly out and just beginning to discover my gay side. I had barely begun teaching, and in February 2013, I will actually be officially able to retire.  I will have met the minimum requirements to retire, 30 years of teaching and 55 years of age. It's interesting to me that both will occur in the same week. But, can I afford to? Not yet.

Change is never easy, and not often welcome. Looking back over the past twenty-eight years, I have experienced a lot of change; historically, culturally and personally. The Cold War is over, the Berlin Wall has fallen, as has the Soviet Union and its satellites. Those were the biggest historical changes I could quickly recall. Culturally, I never thought gays and lesbians would be allowed to be legally married. And now I have been; and also legally divorced. I have come out to a class at my school with nary a word from parents, and strong student support. I am both amazed at the advances of attitudes, and surprised at the lack of others. True, there are those who still need an adjustment. I'm not going to address personal changes as I have explored many of them here.
October 18, 2008 My wedding

Yet, I feel one more change is in the air. I am not sure exactly what it is. A financial windfall? That would be great, but the Universe seldom works like that. A change in attitude toward teaching? That is mine to work on and I will be this coming year. Perhaps, an openness to crossing a particular bridge with the right man? Maybe so. I think it's time I, carefully and safely, begin to explore that one aspect of my gay side that has been truly undiscovered all this time.

What exactly are my limits in the bedroom? What do I specifically like, and really don't? What can I accept in a partner and do to make him happy?

While the next school year is going to be fraught with work, for all the other projects I've taken on, and  therefore taking up MORE time, I feel something is up, there's an electricity in the air, or maybe just in me. I can sense something. This is just when the Universe may bring someone into my life.

Sometimes, the Universe just does work like that.

Six Sentence Sunday, 7/29/12

Here are six sentences from a story bubbling around in my head, tentatively titled, Dragonclaw.

2:45 A.M. Fifteen minutes until his shift was over and Monday, his day off.  He hated working the weekend swing shift, but as it paid more…  He had called his roommate to remind him to pick him up. No answer meant one thing; Steve had changed his mind about staying in, and had gone out and had hooked up. What would it be this time; A poser from Rage, something a little rough from The Mother Lode, some buff, muscle-guy from the gym?  Or some random guy he encountered along the street while crawling from one club to another. 

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday, 7/22/12

Here are six more sentences from my first novel, "When Love Calls Your Name" scheduled for release in October 2012, from Seventh Window Publications.

We were greeted at the courtroom door by a very attractive deputy sheriff who instructed us to wait out here in the hallway until he called us in.  I thought to myself that maybe this nice piece of eye candy might make doing jury duty worthwhile after all.  If anything, I could end up with some nice fantasies for when I can’t sleep and need to tire myself out in order to do so.   

Once we were inside and comfortably seated, the judge introduced us to the prosecuting attorney, and then the defendant and his attorney.  I nearly gasped when I saw him. If I thought the sheriff was a piece of eye candy, this defense attorney was a five-pound box!

Saturday, July 21, 2012



This is not about the television show "Friends" which ran from 1994-2004 and what it might be like with a gay twist. This is about life. Though, ironically, many of their episodes' plot lines I now find mirrored in my life, and maybe that should be a new direction for future posts; "My Life as a Sitcom."

A friend shared an article on Facebook and it caught my eye. Friends of a Certain Age (click here) by Alex Williams ran in the NY Times on July 13, 2012. It hit home. In short, it talked about how difficult it is for adults to make friends. As children it's easier. They are trapped in classrooms for six hours a day, and there is recess and lunch, so the children are somewhat forced to find someone to play with. Throughout middle and high school there are still more opportunities to make friends; sports teams, club activities, study partners, etc. And these same activities last through the college years. And many of our adult friendships are formed during this period of life.

Post-college adds a twist; relocation for that wonderful career, or even the career itself can affect friendships. Having relocated many times in my early years, I understand all too well how that can affect friendships and the ability to sustain them. My ex and I were both teachers and often the fatigue of being "on stage" all day in front of the students, trying to keep their attention, and all the grading plus the housework tired us out so we hardly went out. Friendships atrophied.

Following this stage in an adult's life is the family. A spouse enters the mix and then usually children, though not necessarily in that order. But, both can play factors in finding and maintaining adult friendships. But, what if the spouses don't get along, or maybe they get along too well? What if the children meet through school, perhaps, and the adults get along well, but then the children have a falling out. What do the parents do?

Other factors in sustaining adult friendships came up in the article with financial inequity being one of the biggest. It can limit what the friendship is able to do. Vacation together? One friend is talking a fifteen day cruise in the Greek Islands, the other a one day cruise in the Channel Islands. Maybe cruising together is not a good idea.

Add a divorce or death of a spouse into the picture and the newly-single adult finds him/herself starting over. And it becomes more complicated the older one is. As adults we have grown, hopefully, and now look at things differently. In our youth, loyalty was a prime factor in a friendship, "I've got your back and do you have mine?" Later on, it becomes more complex. We learn we no longer tolerate certain personality disorders, egomania, for example. Our definition of a friend has narrowed, we want someone with similar values and interests.

I no longer am in contact with any of my closest college friends for various reasons, family and their children's education among them. Via Facebook, I have reestablished contact with other friends from college with whom I'd spent less time, but enjoyed my time with just as much and am grateful for this renewed contact. And over the years I've moved away from the gay male community, due to the pressures of work, the house, changing interests and the lack of time and money to actually step out and socialize.

The article was very well written, yet as a gay man I was invisible. That was one wrinkle the writer didn't address in his article and as a straight man, he probably wouldn't think of it.  As I am newly single, and looking to make friends, yet with an eye for a possible partner, and I don't mean tennis, how do I go about sorting out the wheat from the chaff?  As I begin stepping out into gay male social circles, I find myself drawn to certain men more than others, though not necessarily the types of men that I am physically attracted to like muscle bears or daddies, and I find myself invariably thinking "Hmmmm, is he Friend? Mr. Friend-With-Possible-Benefits? Mr. Let's-Just-Be-Friends-at-these-Social-Events? or maybe, possibly, could he be Mr. Right?" This adds a whole different gay dimension to the Making-Friends-as-an-Adult conundrum.

Stepping into a social event gives me one advantage, I can get a 'feel,' not cop a feel, for the guy at the first introduction. Plus, I also get to see him interact with others, and if he's been at an event with this group before, I can see how the other members react to him. And then, I have to just trust my instinct. At these events, I meet men I do want to find out more about; more about their life, more about their work, more about their interests and do we have anything in common? And then just let it go from there. And hopefully, it will be mutual.

But, using social networking sites and apps to find gay male platonic friends is a different story, and I've already addressed the literacy problem.  Sometimes, the photos can give me an instinct to the man, sometimes not. It's the actual meeting that can tell me what I want to know; the real first impression. For the most part, the apps are for hooking up, which is not on my agenda right now, and many men, assume that just because I am 'advertising' for friends only on an app designed for hooking up, I truly don't mean what I write. Then I become a challenge, they want to wear me down, which leads us back to the whole adult literacy issue and then the difficult part of getting out of a meeting that isn't going well.

As all of my life seems to be in transformation; this, too, will take care of itself.

In time.

In its own way.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Pity Party

Catalina Island, Pacific Side, June 2011
I threw myself a pity party today. I deserved it and it was long overdue. I got some bad news on top of a distressing situation on top of a depressing weekend. See, I deserved it.

Even the largest rock gets ground to sand in time. I am a nice guy, constantly trying to do the right thing and wherever I turn for assistance, I get turned down. Again and again. In my heart of hearts I know the steps I am taking to take control of my life will pay off. But, when? Patience is indeed a virtue, and I may soon run out. I can only take so much.

I kept the house after the divorce, which means I have the mortgage and all the bills associated with homeownership. I am grateful I have a nice place to live. I also kept the three animals, now down to two, and all the costs associated with them, though the ex does help out some. And I am grateful for both their company and his assistance. I have tried unsuccessfully to modify my loan. Yet, it is current, so I don’t qualify for most programs. I can make my payments and all the necessary utilities and still provide food for myself and the children. Therefore I still don’t qualify. 

I just don’t have anything left over for fun.

Today, I found out I won’t qualify for the newest homeowner assistance program because I have entered a credit management program. Like many of us, I had credit cards and used them. Maybe a bit too much. When my husband left, and realized I could no longer pay them on time, I took a step to correct that situation. Today I was penalized for that. That was the sole reason I was told I would not qualify for the modification. Penalized for taking corrective action? I felt helpless.

This followed a distressing situation with my dog. He is not himself and I cannot figure out why. He’s eating fine, drinking fine, walking fine, and what goes in fine is coming out fine. Yet, he is very skittish and when I have tried to sit with him and console him or assess him, he avoids me. We have a ritual. Every night before bed, we go upstairs and we unwind on my bed, he lies on it while I read, maybe write or watch a DVD (I discontinued the satellite dish almost immediately after You-Know-Who left.)  And this last time when I went to pet him, he yelped in pain. I tried to examine him, but he wouldn’t let me. He hasn’t let me near him since and it's been two days. And that hurts. He still wants to be near me, he’s lying behind me now on his towel. I have emailed my vet, and we have come to a conclusion he has somehow mysteriously injured himself, possibly his back. He hasn't been on my bed with me since. I feel helpless.

Kicking this weekend off, I had come to a painful realization I have given so much power to my fears. I was trapping myself in them. (This in itself is another post.) And I felt helpless.

After I got the phone call regarding the loan, I was ready to give up. I was trying everything I could to play by the rules, I didn't want to mess up my credit. I wanted to emerge from this with my dignity, to truly feel I had survived, but this afternoon, I was ready to quit, to give up. Nothing drastic mind you, but I'm tired of being the good guy getting the shaft. I FELT HELPLESS.

It all built up, and I broke down.

But, am I helpless over all this?

Not all. 

I am not completely helpless over my finances, in that I can control what I spend. I am not in control over rising prices. But, I can only cut so much.  So, I will continue my non-dating streak, which is good because the fears I mentioned above also come into play here. And perhaps the Universe has something in mind for me later.

While I am indeed helpless over my dog’s pain, I am doing what I feel is best. I will let him come to me when he is ready. In the meantime it will still hurt, but I still see the love in his eyes. He wants to be near me, he’s just leery of my accidentally hurting him. I hope he knows I would never do anything intentionally. He’s my little boy. But, it still hurts he won't sit with me, nor let me touch him.

But I am not helpless over my fears. 

I will conquer them in time. 

At the right time. 

Until then, I will just have to take everything with a grain of sand.

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Six Sentence Sunday 7/15/12

These six came to me in an early morning where to use them?

"You weren't happy in the relationship?"
"Not for a long time."
"Yet, you still couldn't leave him? Nor be with another man?"
"He was dying; he needed me."

Saturday, July 14, 2012


I may have struck gold!!!

I have found a man who fits my dreams!!

So, what drew me to him? How did we meet?

Well, I must say I saw his picture on a new app I am checking out and it goes without saying it was his photos.

So, in the profile photo, was it his slightly disarming smile? his salt-and-pepper beard? his muscular biceps? his nice big chest? his not-too-furry arms?

I then checked out the rest of his pictures; was it the one where he is wearing eyeglasses looking so professorial? was it the one where he was kneeling in a Buddhist temple? was it the one where he's wearing a black baseball cap, aviator glasses, jeans and a nicely fitting black t-shirt accentuating the salt and pepper hair and beard dripping in sex appeal?

Or was it the fact he was not representing himself just with assorted torso shots or pictures of him in tight underwear taking a picture of himself in a mirror?

Oh hell, he was just hot and sexy!

I went on to read his profile and discovered he is into a healthy lifestyle, enjoys being home or in the outdoors, loves to travel. He also loves and respects nature,  loves animals and plants, and enjoys good books (definitely a plus). He is into art, ancient culture, mythology, music (emphasis on Spanish Flamenco).  He loves to cuddle, kiss (he says it's more intimate than sex). He likes to hug and lie down with the two chests pressed together to feel the hearts beating. He can make love, be very sweet and romantic; and switch into being an aggressive, dominant sex partner. He believes in being relationship oriented.

And I just wanted to die.

What does this tell me? It tells me there are indeed men out there who share my values. It tells me there are HOT, SEXY men out there who share my values.

It tells me I will indeed find him at the right time but, hopefully, he won't live 2,447 miles away.

Thursday, July 12, 2012


I recently discovered some praying mantises in my yard and judging by the size of them they appear to be quite young. An adult mantis can reach lengths of 6 inches (15 cm) and these measure approximately 2 inches (5 cm). In order to control the insects in my yard, (I have seen black widow spiders and I have a small dog!) I bought two praying mantis egg cases from a local home supply store. I have checked daily for the hatchlings, but may have missed them.

The photo above shows the second mantis I found and noticed it was in an unusual position (upside down) with seemingly extra legs. Research told me they shed their skin, like reptiles, in order to grow. The photo below shows the mantis fully emerged from the shell of its former self.
As I continue on this path of transformation, I, too, am shedding the shell of my former self. Yet, unlike the mantis, who can walk away from its shell with nary a backwards glance, I will carry the memories and emotions of that former self with me hidden deep inside ready to rear up and envelop me again.

The praying mantis exoskeleton, after shedding
As I was writing my first novel, When Love Calls Your Name, scheduled for release this October from Seventh Window Publications, I was writing a scene between the main character and a former lover.  In my mind, I knew where the scene was headed and as I approached a pivotal point in the scene, the character suddenly took over and carried the scene in a completely different direction I had never anticipated, therefore changing the tone for the rest of the novel.  For the better.

I was completely overwhelmed by the character having the strength to take over the scene (and me) and not allowing me to write the scene as I felt it originally should be. And I absolutely love what he did!!

But where did the character find the strength to do what he did, both with me and within the scene?

My now ex-husband, offered to read the novel, but said he couldn't get into the story because he was unable divorce the character from me as he felt I had put so much of myself into this character. He never finished reading it. (He was never a good reader anyway as he suffered from severe vision issues and ultimately needed corneal transplants.)

But, back to my question: where did the character find his strength?

He found it in me as I gave birth to him, I created him and as the ex-husband says, there is a lot of me in him. So if that strength is in him, it is also in me which means that I am stronger than I have given myself credit for.

I have the strength
  • to walk away from my former self;
  • to stand up for myself;
  • to take care of myself;
  • to protect myself;
  • to love myself.
I just have to remember to call on it as needed in order to not fall back into the trap of the past.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Adult Literacy


I have begun perusing the portable profiles again. I even have placed a profile on one of the apps in the hopes of extending my gay male social circle. And it reads in part, "As my life is in transformation, I do not want to complicate matters so I am not looking for hookups or dating. I am looking for friends to hang out with and expand my social circle."

I chose this particular app because it asks its members:
  • to be mature- don't play games or give attitude;
  • to have integrity- represent yourself authentically;
  • to be safe- in play, both for yourself and others;
  • to be truthful- represent yourself honestly;
  • to enjoy- make sure your encounters are mutually enjoyable;
  • to respect- yourself and your partners.
Sounds reasonable, right? I thought so.
Okay, I realize my profile may come off as a bit heavy handed, or put-offish but with my head, heart and finances all over the place and with me embarking on a new journey, the last thing I want right now is to add even more to my plate by getting involved with someone, or into an uncomfortable scene and go all drama queen and such and be accused of not following the code. I also realize that if a real nice guy comes along and I am interested in him and feel comfortable, I MAY have already given the wrong impression about taking that next step which in turn could lead to more confusion and/or hurt on both parts. And this reminds me of a situation I recently went through.

One of the very first people to contact me on this app was a very handsome, silver haired gentleman. We chitchatted, about this, about that. He seemed very nice. His profile was also nice and clear, "Wanna play?" After a few more moments of chat, he asked if I wanted to meet up sometime. I admit I'm a little naive at times especially since I am new at this portable electronic dating stuff, and I thought he meant for coffee having assumed he'd read my profile. "Possibly," I replied.

He came back with "I'd really love to play with you, Jeff. I'm into....." and he then listed of his litany of preferred playtime activities (there was some reference about bacon, pork or a pig in there somewhere).

Um, where exactly in my profile did I indicate I was interested in hooking up? Did he not read my profile? I think we need to extend the adult literacy curriculum to include online profiles on dating sites.

Now, this is not the first time this has happened. And it won't be the last, I am sure.

I'll just have to be prepared.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Supermodel Update

A while back I wrote about a little crush I had on an openly gay model. Okay, maybe more of a fantasy. I had seen his face on a local gay magazine, and actually read the story about him. It seems he is a writer as well, so we have something in common besides being gay men.

I was chagrined to learn he doesn't even live on this continent so I figured our paths would never cross, and I just let the fantasy live on in my head and on Facebook. It's just as well. Our lifestyles wouldn't be compatible anyway. He's a model and I'm a teacher. He jets around the world, I putter around the Valley when I can afford the gas.

Be careful what you say!!

Our paths will indeed cross as he is actually in Los Angeles promoting his latest project and he invited me! Okay, so he invited all his Facebook friends. I just hope they aren't in the way when our eyes meet across the crowded room, the music begins to play (in my head) and he comes over to talk to me!

Hey, I can dream, can't I?

And if we do indeed actually meet, I hope I don't turn into a giggling little school boy.

Six Sentence Sunday 7/8/12

Yet one more project simmers away in my head and here are six sentences from it:

Keith Maxwell surveyed his new classroom with foreboding. What had he gotten himself into? At forty-eight he was closer to thinking about retirement than taking on new experiences to add to his resume in order to further his career. This transfer did not raise his salary, as teachers were not paid more for teaching more students. What exactly killed his passion he didn’t know. Was it a) his twenty-five years of teaching, mostly in the same elementary school; b) the repetitiveness of school year after school year;  c) had he tired of the same boring material; d) all of the above?

Friday, July 6, 2012


I have been thinking a lot about boycotts lately. They can seem ridiculous, like the people boycotting Nabisco for the above image of the beloved Oreo Cookie sporting the Rainbow colors of Gay Pride. I mean, it's just a cookie. Eating an Oreo won't turn someone gay, and it's not like the company is out recruiting future homosexuals. They are supporting their employees and customers. But, advocating violence and murder is a serious business.

Other recent boycotts I have heard of: 
  • General Motors (GM) for flying the Rainbow Flag at their headquarters to honor the pride of their LGBT employees;
  • JCPenney for including a couple of women, both wearing matching wedding rings and with their children in a picture in the company's Mother's Day flyer;
  • JCPenney for including a couple of men, both wearing matching wedding rings and with their children in a picture in the company's Father's Day flyer.
Pride Colors at GM Headquarters in Detroit, MI.
There are numerous others, I'm sure. I realize to the people calling for these boycotts, it is serious to them. But, really. I guess it takes all kinds.

Yet, some boycotts are very serious, indeed. I remember when Ellen DeGeneres' character, Ellen Morgan, came out on her show in 1997, both JCPenney and Chrysler decided to pull advertising from the episode. The LGBT community then called for a boycott of both and other companies as well.

I find it ironic that both JCPenney and GM, which produces Chrysler, have made very different decisions in recent years. So, attitudes do change. I guess I need to shop at JCPenney now. And I love my GM car even more!

Which brings me to another point.

This is not an official picture, just a knockoff of the original. It's cute.
Who decides when boycotts are over? In 2010, Target and Best Buy both made sizable donations to a Political Action Committee (PAC) which then ran ads for a candidate who openly opposed same-sex marriage, other LGBT rights and had ties to a group openly calling for the legalized incarceration and/or murder of LGBTQ people in Uganda. The LGBT community was outraged as both companies had been known for their support of the community in the US. The companies' explanation was they were supporting a candidate who was pro-business. Both companies were unaware (in their words) of the other ties and connections. The LGBT community called for a boycott of both companies. Naturally, I supported this.

Now, I have noticed Pride merchandise on Target's website. (I noticed it when I was searching for something and saw Target in the search results.) I have seen articles mentioning their progress in trying to come to an understanding over their past action. I have not received the memo by the Undersecretary of Boycotts stating we can shop at Target again. Yet, I have read comments by individuals suggesting to let the past be, and to move forward. Kind of like a reconciliation after a friend or lover says something that hurts your feelings. Target seems to be making amends. Is it enough? I don't know.

I have seen nothing regarding Best Buy.

What I do know, is that I am having very difficult financial times right now. I need to do what I have to in order to survive. Target offers good merchandise at good prices. I may have to shop there. Can I live with myself? I may have to because I need to survive. I guess we need to decide for ourselves. And that's who decides to end the boycott. 

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Great Minds

It seems great minds think alike.

A fellow author/blogger, good friend and great guy, Kergan Edwards-Stout, recently questioned his sluttiness vs. his prudishness in his own blog.  It seems a friend of his had commented on the amount of sex in Kergan’s award winning debut novel, Songs for the New Depression, and this in turn, prompted Kergan’s self-examination.  That same week I, too, had posted wondering that if I were to get sexually active once more, could I refrain from debasing myself and feeling like a slut again or was I prudish for not being active?

For his actual post click here:

Shortly after my ex-husband moved out, I began seeing a therapist. Ironically, I had set up the initial appointment prior to receiving my ex’s now infamous email asking for the divorce, as I felt I was suffering from depression. Well, I was, but not for the reason I suspected. All in all, the divorce has been a good thing, as he was the source of my depression. BUT, as I began sorting through the emotions haunting me because of the divorce and the emerging feelings of “Oh, my gods, I am actually a single gay man at mid-life,” panic began to set in, and I began to discuss all this with my straight, Jewish, older-than-I-am counselor, who promptly reminded me of how youth-obsessed the gay male community is.  Gee, thanks. It seemed even my counselor was telling me I’d never date again, let alone just have sex.

I believe the younger one can come out, the better.  A woman recently wrote an article for the Huffington Post about her own not-so-proud-of-herself moment in her life with her gay son.  But, it is a comment to that article I want to address. Another woman wrote that her family went to Disneyland for the day. No big deal. They had a seventeen year old gay son. Still, no big deal.  Well, depending on the family, maybe. But in this case, no. He was out to them, they loved him, they accepted him. BUT, during the outing, his fourteen year old boyfriend joined them.  This was her first time seeing him with a boyfriend.

Children, both gay and straight, need that time of adolescence to explore what relationships mean to them. To do so openly with family support is very healthy. And in the case of the 17 year old above, totally awesome!  When I came out at the ripe age of 23, I hadn’t had the typical teenage years of exploring my relationships with girls, or even clandestine relationships with other boys. I mean, I thought I was straight, and I tried dating girls, but really wasn’t interested either in girls or even in dating. I was a shy, quiet boy, who was bullied for whatever reason; nerd, queer, goodie-two-shoes, or I was always the new kid in school as we moved almost every year. So, I stayed home a lot. And read. Or watched television.

I also had a Born-again Christian background which meant I couldn’t be gay; God wouldn’t do that to one of His followers, right?  Fortunately, now I believe otherwise and in other ways. So, when I came out back then, I still wanted to maintain my faith and integrate it with my sexuality. No whoring around for me. But, I needed that exploration to discover what I really liked to do in bed with another man. But, I still wanted to have some connection to him, not with just some random stranger off the street; though to this day, one of my most powerful memories is of a handsome young man, who was making a delivery to a convalescent hospital near my home. Our eyes met across the parking lot, his muscles straining with the heavy oxygen tank, his smile melting my heart, and yet I kept walking, when I turned to look back, he was watching me walk away…still smiling. I walked home. Alone.

As I later let my guard down and began exploring my sexual self, I explored with abandon. Now, I must say this was back in the stone-age; pre-smartphone with all the mobile apps, pre-dumb phone with just text messaging alone, pre-Craigslist, pre-internet with online dating sites.  We just had landlines in 1983, sounds absolutely Jurassic, doesn’t it? Or is it Paleolithic? I get them mixed up.  But, with landlines we did have 976 numbers. These were special phone lines you could dial, get connected to someone “LIVE” and you’d have three minutes to chat initially and take it from there. This wasn’t free. You were charged anywhere from $2.00 to $5.00 each call for that first connection. One month I had a very slutty $500.00 phone bill! If you liked what you heard in those first few minutes, you exchanged your own numbers to continue, either via the phone or to meet in person.  A few times, l liked what I heard, would make arrangements to meet, and once I met him would be quite distressed at what I had gotten myself into. It was after one of these encounters, one where we had to hurry because his boyfriend was due home soon, and he then left the room once he finished and I still hadn’t, that I felt like a whore and should be charging for my services.  That was a very deep depression to crawl back out of. I’m afraid of going there again.
Photo courtesy of Kergan Edwards-Stout

Yet, I still have urges. My friend, Kergan, is forty-seven with a husband, two sons, a full-time job and all the hubbub of a life that goes along with all that. Plus he finds time to write a blog and promote his book. All of this still doesn’t prevent him from having urges. After all, he is only human. I’ll admit to being human with a full-time job and to being just a bit older.

He theorizes that sexual longing by people of a certain age may be discomforting for some. I agree, to a point. After all, America was founded by a Puritanical group of people. Sex was not part of their lives. Yeah, right. Do a little digging and you might be surprised.  But, it is this ‘Puritanical culture’ surrounding sex that can do some damage. One only has to look at the evolution of television programs to see how the perception of sex has changed. In the fifties, married couples slept in separate beds. How they ever had children, I’ll never know! It was censorship laws that prevented any representation of a real sexual life.  But, as far as I could remember, my maternal grandparents not only slept in separate beds, they slept in separate rooms.  When I asked, I was told my grandfather snored. Yet, on a week-long camping trip with them when I was about nine or ten, the three of us shared a one room cabin, and his snoring did not keep me awake. (Maybe I was too tired to notice?)

My mother and I theorize that it was a "family situation" that was never talked about involving my grandmother’s sister that left my grandmother paranoid about sex, plus it was the era she grew up in. She may have transferred this paranoia to my mother, who in turn may have passed it on to me and coupled with what I’ve outlined above, may explain my reticence. That, and a few other issues which I may have mentioned before.

My doctor, counselor, and plenty of friends and internet articles say a healthy sex life is good for you and my doctor says I am physically healthy. So, my problem must be psycho-emotional.  Let’s see. Other than the normal feelings of fear of rejection, fear of performance, and fear of just being used for someone else’s pleasure and not mine, I’m good. I will need to address those.  So, on to the big one; if I were to have sex, would I feel like I was cheating on my ex-husband? Is that preventing me? No.  Post-divorce, I did meet someone and over time, I wanted to make love to him, I felt I was ready to take that step with him. It felt right, but it felt right just to me. So, maybe it’s the individual situation I need to look at, and not just look at sex in general.

Maybe I just haven’t met the right man, yet.

Kergan’s debut novel, Songs for the New Depression, won the 2012 Indie Book Award, was shortlisted for the Independent Literary Awards, and is available now in paperback, hardcover, and e-Book.  Kirkus Reviews calls it "distinctively entertaining," while Frontiers Magazine says it is “Simply stunning." 
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