In Deference to Women

"Fascinated" is the word I would choose; yes, I have always been "fascinated" with women. Mainly because they are so different -- physically, emotionally, psychologically.  When I was very young I thought there were few differences between women and men, boys and girls.  I was still fascinated, but more scared of or scared away by the obvious differences.

Now as an adult I am no longer scared -- but still fascinated.  I admit freely that I don't really understand how most women think, and even though a few of them have tried to tell me how I think, I am convinced that they don't really think like I do either. It's a grim kind of discovery -- when you finally fix on the fact that gender differences create life differences, create goal differences, create "purpose" differences.

I am willing to go with the fact of the differences -- and just try to float and go with the eddies and floes that are all around me. Swirling this way and that -- my views are as confused and partial as ever. One of the "dreams" I used to have consistently was of me drowning -- being pushed and shoved under water, and struggling like a madman to maintain equilibrium, to fight my way to the surface. Once a relationship with a woman hits that level of distress for me -- I am forced to flee, to get to the air, to breathe, to live. For some women who might someday read this -- I'm sure that explains a lot.        

Fired for Blogging

A female redheaded news reporter somewhere down South got fired yesterday, for posting "true" confessions on her personal blog.  It's a shame because she really didn't admit to much in her confessions: not wearing a bra on the air one day, being afraid to do stories about "old people" because she was secretly frightened of them, and making some comments about her salary on her YouTube channel. There is no "freedom to speak" and there is no "freedom of the press" -- and there also is no privacy. As we are monitored so are we judged, juried, fined and/or fired. People are blaming the younger generation -- sharing stuff "out there" which "should be kept secret."

My blog will never be about work -- or its related elements. Not that those areas are controversial -- but they are not the principal parts of my life. But I am not afraid to post the truth -- that's all I know; that's all that I can say.     

What is of Value?

People are of value. They have the most value in our lives: those we love -- our relatives, lovers, friends, co-workers; those we are acquainted with -- our bosses, fellow-workers, neighbors, associates; those who are important to us -- everyone else we think about.  

So blogs talk about people -- all those people mentioned above. And hopefully blogs tell the truth (as the blogger sees and understands it) about all those people.  And hopefully those mentioned in blogs understand why they are mentioned, and don't take instant offense when they are mentioned, even somewhat, disparagingly.

Many people have come and gone in my life. Some I have loved and lost. Others I have loved and hold onto in my mind, or in my heart. But no matter the status of any of them -- it is them I need to talk about. Because they are the people who have shaped me, such as I am, and helped me to survive this long. And they are the people I value. 

On Love, Friendship, and Age

I believe in friendship -- and companionship, and acquaintanceship, and many other kinds of closeness between human beings. Big of me, right? No, I'm just making the point that there are lots of degrees of friendship that I participate in -- and would participate in, if it were possible.

Love is another matter -- erotic love requires the physical ability to love, and the mental and psychological ability to be close to, to respond to, to fulfill, the needs of another human being.  More than a generation of time between two people in a love (erotic) relationship nearly makes that relationship implausible if not impossible.  The genetic attractions won't be there -- and if they are there, they are easily undone by the reality of -- too slow, too fat, too ugly, too...  I recognize my own limitations at this point -- even though attracted to the breathless face and smiling eyes of a twenty-something-year-old, I need to keep myself in check and not instead try to pretend I'm an Anthony Weiner type middle-aged (or old-aged) freak who can't see his own reflection in the mirror. 

Love is mysterious and also has many other levels -- even within the erotic realm.  Desire can be internalized into a dream-landscape, which is all the really old really have.  I can't pretend to be 20 again no matter how good of an actor I am, or how self-delusional as well. 

Looking for Comments

There are people directly connected to some of my postings -- but for them and for all, I welcome their comments on individual postings. Eventually I will open up this blog to Google Plus -- thus getting a wider range of readers and/or commentators. Right now only people who find themselves named in the postings are asked to respond -- and only if they wish to do so. 

What Do Women Want?

A provocative question -- without a provocative answer.  Women are human, too. So what they want is what all humans want -- a little happiness, less despair, no deception, honesty, compassion, some fun, some humor, some playtime on every level, a living of life that is complete and wonderful, some risk-taking, some loving that is honest, a heart that is true, a soul that is open, eyes that are real, and kisses that mean something more than they are. 

I still never knew what Bertina wanted; I am pretty sure Maureen never wanted anything, or else wouldn't ever express it if she did want something. And so for the man -- the object/subject of all this -- he would never know what was wanted and would just walk away and give up. 

So Much More to Say: On Bertina (Tina) and Maureen

My failure to reclaim dating skills I never quite possessed is the real story of my non-relationships with Bertina and Maureen.  For the latter person I became a disembodied pen pal -- a reliable "voice" somewhere off there, mostly unconnected to flesh and bone, totally bereft of emotion or pain. I should have been aware of that fact then -- and I should have tried to correct it. Sooner, earlier, more emphatically!

For the former "datee" I should be writing a book, rather than a poor remembrance in a blog.  There were so many high points corresponding to so many more low points. Suffice it to say at this point that some of these "true stories" will come out here and there over the life of this blog -- as they did in conversations with my friends and confidants at the time of their occurrence. I am certainly not always right about things I have undergone, mostly due to the "rosy-colored memory" effect. But what is true for me, is true for me and the way I try to live. And so it is; and so it must be. 

On Tina and Maureen

Actually, post-the-horrible-and-unfair-death of Sheila Mrochinski, I have tried twice to re-establish my dating life. First with the inimitable Bertina Carey (see previous emails) and then with someone I knew well  from my time at Ohio State University.
Ms. Maureen Flora is a poet and a high school teacher in Central Ohio.

I admired and liked her -- enough to even trek 1600 miles up North (to Ohio) to visit her --twice -- neither visit quite worked out as I expected, not that I was expecting fireworks -- but at least perhaps a slight sparkle would have been nice. I sensed fear in her (which she freely admitted)-- but then time and near-daily communication should have assuaged that fear. But it didn't. I offered to have her come and visit me in Savannah which she reneged on quite a number of times -- still fear? or no spark on her side? I could never be sure -- because like me she had her own history to contend with -- an unexpected divorce, etc. And that is life -- for all of us. 

I stopped my communication with Maureen, except through this venue -- not because I wasn't sincerely interested. But because life is finite -- energy is finite -- and love is linked to both those concepts. We must honor time -- and life -- and energy ---by never wasting them. 

Tangle of Time and Work

This week my new duties as Department Chair of Social and Behavioral Sciences have almost "done me in." So many new hires, interviews, desk copies of books, etc. have been gotten -- that I sometimes feel the whirlwind about me without sensing any direction at all. Of course, time draws us all forward -- but, time does not rescue us from perfidious overwork. 

There are too many things that I miss --- parties up in Easton for Bastille Day at the Kendrick's, trips to the beach or a restaurant to discuss "administrivia" with my fellow Chairperson, even a simple visit to the movies or an evening where I do not put myself to bed by 10:00 PM.  I feel caught up but not completed in sync with my tasks and duties. Displacement rules. All things float akimbo. 

Lots More

There are many more stories to tell about Bertina -- little stories, happy stories, romantic stories, and sad stories too.  We lived a history together, even for such a short time -- both now and in the past. Her experiences made her the woman she had become -- as my experiences had shaped me. 

No one's part was particularly better -- or healthier -- or more successful. No comparison needs to be made. We are what we are. And we cannot change easily -- that is true of either one of us. 

I feel a failure in this relationship -- but most of that failure is not deliberate, active, or even conscious. I just know it is a failure. 

When in the future I write about Bertina -- it will be the same. The moments of beauty or joy that are etched will be there forever.  The moments of pain and embarrassment will be there as well.

Carey, Bertina

This is a woman I love -- but cannot live with.  I said "Goodbye, I love you" to her several years ago now -- and I still feel the same.

After Sheila's (my wife's)  death in December of 2006 a Christmas card from Bertina gave me hope of a continuing life, and steered me away from my intense desire to join
Sheila -- in whatever she was experiencing. Bertina had been a student of mine "a long long long time ago" at a mystical place called Interlochen. I knew her then -- but we were never lovers.  Even when she once came back to visit Interlochen years after she graduated -- we did not become lovers (I could not be unfaithful to the woman I knew then as my girlfriend)--her name was Peggy).

The Christmas card became a string of letters, and emails, and finally phone calls. I did not know initially that there was a "weekend live-in boyfriend" in her world -- as we pursued this whirlwind re-romance. The came a rendezvous -- in Wilson, NC of all places. Then more phone calls, lots of emails, cards, letters -- and a volatile relationship ensued. As we became more serious with each other -- the volatility increased because there was, after all, another man who was definitely there first and definitely was a more permanent fixture than I was likely to become.  They, he and Bertina, had lots in common -- same Church, similar background in addiction and AA, and just plain proximity.

Bertina broke it off with me tersely, in a text.  Even though I had visited her in DC several times -- she broke it off in favor of...let's call him Dave.
But the circumstances were such (she had had a bad test for a possible serious disease that same week) that I could not accept the break -- and instead foolishly and romantically drove North to DC immediately.  It took me two days to drive there  due to circumstances beyond my control (actually I left my wallet at home in Savannah) and I arrived duly concerned on Saturday morning of another "live-in weekend with Dave." As I rapped on the flimsy front door I found them in "Monica Lewinsky flagrante" and my heart exploded. I realized I had been lied to, in many more ways than one, by this woman whom I loved.

I left -- promising never to return or to respond. Things happened -- time passed -- suddenly I was in demand again, sought out by Bertina-- and I resisted with simple unadorned silence. Bertina came to specifically visit me at my home as part of a training "gig" with her company that landed her nearby -- I let her into my house -- and we were back on the front burner again.  I am not sure if I have the sequence right here but she finally did "break it off" with Dave (let's call him Mel II) and the heightened communication continued. But obviously something else was going on as well -- because suddenly our communication got "rocky."

Accusations, name-calling, fault-finding, anger, and other vulgarities ensued. Who could fight the hardest? Who would win this battle of the sexes? And then -- the fact that I didn't believe in Christianity as she did (huh?), the fact that I perhaps didn't trust her enough to ever be honest with me, the fact that she didn't ever believe I was giving my "all" to her sexually, that fact that we lived apart and appeared to like it that way -- and our relationship finally exploded in one final phone call -- and my own closing words:
"Good bye, I love you."

Now it is several years after that -- in that time she spent more than a year writing, emailing, and communicating with me trying to get us to "re-establish our friendship."
It could not happen -- I was done with arguing, pain, accusations, and depression. I would rather spend my life in more positive pursuits. Just last week I got a birthday care from Bertina -- claiming I was a "blessing and a joy" and she would always "celebrate us." It was not in the same language that attempted to belittle, hurt, and destroy me less than a year ago.  I love her -- but I cannot ever understand her. And I am not so foolish enough to think that we could ever get past whatever anger seethes underneath -- in each of us. And so it is...today. "Good bye -- I still love her."