SWITCHING SIDE or PLAYING ON THE SAME TEAM
The Crabby Critic
Why do so many men make fools of themselves over girls, especially younger women?
Signed Shelby in California
You’re question is a curious one, indeed. I noticed that you used ‘men’ and ‘girls’ instead of ‘boys’ and ‘girls’ or ‘men’ and ‘women’ to illustrate your equation. As such I’ll make the assumption that your inquiry is directed at May/December romance guffaws and the silly little fools who make them. To answer your question simply: men of a certain vintage (40 yrs. and up) occasionally lose themselves in a pretty face and firm thighs.
The daydream is often not entirely sexual in nature. Rather, some men envision themselves the custodians of less experienced women as a sort of worshipper/defender from afar.
Chivalry, you see, is not entirely dead – though today it often comes with a caveat.
Younger women have known about this absence of good common sense in the male animal (particularly ones who look in their mirrors and see youth slipping away – fast) for quite some time. Often these women have managed to exploit that soft spot these men have for them (usually between their ears) for economic and social gains. Certainly did wonders for a little known White House trollop named Monica Lewinsky.
But to get back to the crux of your question – ‘men’…the little dears: there comes a point in our lives when we suddenly develop the urge to feel young again simply because we’re tired of ourselves – of feeling old. When women tire of themselves they generally get a new hairdo, buy some new clothes, re-cushion the sofa or have the house painted. A few bonk the pool boy – but they’re the exception rather than the norm.
I suppose a man could do over his office or rearrange his tools in the garage, but then again as men we never tend to think of anything so uncomplicated. Instead we reassert our ‘youth’ by rediscovering it in the eyes of another woman – usually one who’s playing our insecurity like ragtime on a piano and for her own personal gain – though again, on matters of the heart and loins (not necessarily in that order) we tend to employ not even the base sense God gave a lemon.
Eventually, we figure out how wrong we’ve been. Unfortunately, by that time we’re usually working on divorce number two and affair number three.
C’est la vie.
That’s really not joi de vivre.
The crabby critic
Dear Crabby Critic:
Do you recommend blogging? How do I go about starting my own blog?
Erin in Tacoma
Yes I do. You can get started your own blog by typing in ‘blogger’ on a Yahoo or Google search. You’ll be taken to a site that allows you to set up your own personal internet space with all the ease of clipping your toenails. One thing I would suggest is that you have an angle before starting your blog – decide before you type – what is it you want to say and how is it that you want to say it.
The blog scene is full of personal journals written by people with really boring lives who just want to put the rest of us to sleep by sharing those moments best left private with the world.
I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t care less about who danced with whom last night a club so-and-so before tripping on their own sweat and knocking out a couple of front teeth. Really – who cares?!?
There are, however, a growing variety of blogs out there catering to the arts, entertainment, intellectual/political/social writings which are – apart from offering a fresh perspective – quite interesting to read. I’ll assume since you’ve written in to this one – I’m considered one of these in the latter category. Thanks.
But before you embark on sharing yourself with the world, I feel it my duty to outline some of the vices of the medium. First, as a blogger, you’ll have to post what is known as a profile – a personal history and bio so that people feel they can get to know you. Here’s the catch. You don’t want them to know too much.
If you post something like: “Hi, my name’s Frieda Leffingwell. I live at 4-36 Camper Street, Apartment 2A, Brownstown Virginia and I shop at the Piggly Wiggly every Thursday night between 7-8pm” ...then you have every right to expect meeting up with some horny little stalker who wants to fondle your cutlets in the frozen food section before the week of postings is out. A good profile will say who you are professionally (student, lawyer, poet, pizza maker, etc.) and give a little intro to what your blog is all about.
Do list benign details like what’s your favorite color, movie, song and band. Don’t say where you go to school, hang out in your spare time or disclose the location of other friends and family. I’d also keep posts of personal pictures to a bare minimum. For example, if you’re thing is nature photography – snapshots of begonias are acceptable. Just don’t leave the tag on that says you bought them at the Home Depot located in Richmond Hills Virginia. Some weirdo might live next door to you and recognize the pot.
I also find that people are fairly naïve about what they post on the net. I’ve seen pictures of people’s family, children, exteriors of their homes, their cars, candid nudie shots taken while on holiday, street location sign posts, etc. There was even one misguided dead head who scanned in a photo of his bill from Wal-Mart because he was overcharged for an item and wanted to prove his point of outrage in the court of popular opinion. Unfortunately, that bill also included the address of the store and this bozo’s credit card information. How moronic.
Identity fraud is an epidemic in North America.
Even if you do everything right there’s no guarantee that some scummy cocaine and arms dealer won’t wind up using your name and photo to fund a small revolution in Nicaragua. That’s the chance you take, not only for blogging, but also shopping and doing your online banking on the net. Sadly, it’s the weighty price for freedom of expression.
The crabby critic
My husband and I like to have sex in public places. One problem – we got caught last week inside a Six Flags restroom and were banned from the park. I wanna wait a couple of weeks then go in and try it again but my husband says we should just forget it and go elsewhere. What do you think?
Tareki in California
Dear Amusement Nudie:
You give new meaning to the following rides: The Demon Drop, the Plunger, the Swinger, Dive Bomber and The Big Dipper.
Thanks for giving me another reason not to use public washrooms.
Personally, I don’t see why it takes the danger factor of getting caught to get you in the mood, but if you want to ride the pony outside of the paddock I suppose the prudent thing would be to NOT repeat the race in the same place twice – especially since park security is on to your escapades. You’re lucky you didn’t get arrested for indecent exposure and receive a heavy fine and possibly some jail time. I think you’re guaranteeing yourself both if you try raising your husband’s flag at Six Flags again.
The crabby critic
My sister’s a lesbian and thinks that I’m small minded for never ‘experimenting’ with the concept. I’ve never wanted to be a lesbian. In fact, I was pretty much boy crazy from puberty on. I’m 38 now and married. Last week I had my sister and a friend over for dinner, in the middle of which my sister asked if I would French kiss her girlfriend. When I said no, my sister flipped out and called me a homophobe and a hypocrite and said that she and I weren’t sisters anymore. The whole incident upset me and my children a lot. My husband says to forget it. He also doesn’t want to have my sister over any more – period. I feel like I’m between a rock and a hard place. What should I do? I’m so confused?
Carol in Charlottetown
Don’t be! Sounds to me like it’s your sister who is a few croutons short of a salad.
Clearly, she’s insecure about her burgeoning homosexuality. More than likely she wants you to embrace her gayness. Even if you already do – she feels that you don’t. However, for her to demand that you tongue her date in front of your children is not only ill-advised and misconstrued confirmation of your supporting her lifestyle – its belligerent ignorance bordering on the extreme tacky and decidedly going against your own grain.
You can’t help loving men any more than your sister can help wanting women. Neither of you should be ashamed over the choices in lifestyles made. I doubt deep-throating your sister’s mate would have resolved her feelings of social inadequacy. More than likely they would have established some deep seeded jealousy and sibling rivalry.
I side with your hubby on this one – no second helpings for sis’ over at Casa-Carol. But here’s a thought – the next time you talk to your sister why not point out how glad you are that she’s a lesbian. After all, you can point out that while a lot of siblings steal their respective husbands or wives from one another, you can guarantee no such situation will ever occur in your household.
The crabby critic
Recently I found out that I had a cousin I never knew about. We met. He looks like Michael Bolton. I found myself feeling like I was out on a date. In fact, I think I’m starting to fall in love with him. What’s wrong with me? I’ve always considered myself fairly straight laced but now I feel like I’ve committed some carnal sin, which I haven’t. Evidently, my cousin liked me very much too. He says we should see more of one another and wants to have me over for dinner next week. Should I tell him what I’ve been thinking?
Debbie in Pasadena
Dear Blushing Bloodline:
This may come as a shocker but it’s perfectly legally to marry your cousin in twenty-six states.
For centuries, European and Middle Eastern countries have indulged in arranged marriages between ‘family’ members. According to stats along – you wouldn’t be considered as much of a freak as you may think.
Some famous familial parings; Albert Einstein's parents; Jerry Lee Lewis and his cousin; FDR and Eleanor Roosevelt; Prince Albert and Queen Victoria; even former New York City Mayor Rudolph Giuliani, who briefly was married to his second cousin.
For years, it was a common misconception that intermarriages bred idiots. But according to the National Society of Genetic Counselors the risk that you’ll give birth to a three eyed, six fingered mutant with the I.Q. of a dead flashlight battery are extremely rare – not the norm.
Still, I don’t think you’re odd to foster the apprehensions you’ve expressed herein. Actually, I’ve never thought of marrying any of my cousins. It’s just a sort of unwritten taboo I’ve fostered and stuck by. I also wouldn’t tell the cousin you’ve just met of your straddle and conquest fantasies just yet – even if he does resemble a famous pop singer.
Consider that you’ve only just met. He might see you only as his cousin. He might never see you as anything else. Wouldn’t you rather have a polite familial relationship with him than say what’s on your mind right now and risk losing everything?
Control yourself, Deb. Maybe one day your constraint will pay off and maybe it won’t. But either way – one date/meeting is not enough time to decide that he’s the only man for you.
The crabby critic
Are you a virgin?
Cory in Atlanta
Are you a slut?
The point I’m trying to make is that no one’s sexual history should be made public record – ever. Evidently you’ve confused me with the many people who write in to this column, divulging their intimate little details and expecting some great shared and communal discussion on the ways of the flesh/or not, thereof. But that isn’t me.
What about her? Unless you can tell me something I don’t know, I suggest you stick to pruning your own family tree.
Any bloodline that would give birth to an idiot who has nothing better to do with his/her time than waste mine with such idiotic drivel clearly has more skeletons than Greenlawn Cemetery. Mom must be so proud…NOT!
Get out the shovel and start digging.
I farted! Ha! LOL.
…and it smells…badly!
My stepfather hates me. Ever since he moved in with me and my mom he’s done nothing but make sly comments about boarding school and asking me have I ever thought of living on my own. I just turned sixteen. I told my mom what he said and she says we have to try and get along. I’m not the one suggesting he move out. What should I do?
Jeri in Ontario
Your situation saddens me - greatly. You’ve become one in a growing statistic of assimilated families whose parent thinks more highly of their new shack-up than their own flesh and blood. How very sad. All things considered – I suppose you have the lighter end of the equation. Some stepfathers might want a trade-in on the mother – if you catch my meaning. The fact that yours wants you to go away - not mad, but disappear nonetheless, at least translates that you don’t have to call a locksmith for a bolt on your bedroom door.
Mom’s lonely, Jeri. Whatever transpired between her and your real father left her with a gaping hole – as far as I’m concerned, located approximately between her ears. She’s a fool to side with a stranger and leave you to fend for yourself. That’s not only unfair to you, it’s downright criminal. There’s not much I can offer to make it better.
Your mother’s going through a phase, Jeri. It’s called ‘being a sex-crazed jerk.’
Oh, by the way, unless your mom married Mr. Wrong, just by moving in with her does NOT make him your stepfather. He’s a selfish sponge who found himself a needy meal ticket. My best advice to you would be, if you have an aunt, uncle, grandparent or any other extended family who loves you very much, to go live with them for a while, at least until the idiot child that used to be your parent awakens from her romantic stupor. Your mother doesn’t deserve the honor of having you at home with her right now.
The crabby critic
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