MY LIFE AND TIMES... THE WORLD OF SEX - PART SIX

I don't know about other authors, but writing a fictional autobiography is not at all a piece of cake! It's difficult to write about one's past, even with a fictional license which I discussed in Part 1 of this blog post.

I'm 60 now and what I'm writing about happened starting 40 years ago. There's a widely held belief that the past is the past and should be forgotten. Think about that... live your life forgetting it as it passes. Everyday, a new day, a new beginning. A fresh start with yesterday and anything good or bad forgotten.

Sounds to me like the philosophy of a lunatic.

I don't know if I mentioned this before but one of the many turning points in my life was when my mentor Doug turned me onto a book by Benjamin Lee Whorf, "The Hopi Language" (it can be found in my Favorite Media List for year and publisher).

Many of us, at least here in the US believe without question that one's reality is based upon the past, present and future. That's pretty simplistic on it's face, but very significant when locating one's current present position in Life. With a past, one is being rewarded for successes, admonished for failures and losses. By "forgetting one's past" what's meant is forgetting one's failures and losses and celebrating until we die our victories. Wonderful in bizarre sort of way, however highly unrealistic. It in essence elevates those who are currently living success filled lives, and feeling contempt for those with stories of woe and misery and failure. All just another part of a society that believes in a simple duality - black and white, good and bad, with nothing as gray and complicated.

What I found out when I read Benjamin Whorf's book about the Hopi Language was that reality is not that simple. The Hopi society lived a much different reality, and everything they did and believed in was based on a duality of another kind. Reality to the Hopi was the past and present as one... with the future now and forever becoming existence until death.

This simple difference put me into a conundrum years ago. It meant that reality was created in the minds of a society, that the definition of reality could vary as it was not a fixed and concrete thing. It meant that who I am right now encompasses all that has transpired in my past until now. My future was based on mastering myself in the present so as to work towards the best possible future.

The problem with understanding this epiphany and once understood having no way to go back is I now found myself at odds with the society I lived in. How often have I heard it said, "forget the past", yet how often have I also heard that to "forget the past means to repeat it?"

At 60 repeating my past isn't such a bad idea... IF, I could change it which I can't. My past is me right now... my future depends on mastering the now. Where others can look at the past as ended, pick and choose what to remember, and remember as if it's just a memory, I can't do that. It's not that I ascribe to the Hopi philosophy; it's much more the fact that for me it makes sense... who am I if not the sum total of my past?

Interpretation of one's past is an obstacle to master. All too often we heard, you are being "to hard on yourself" or "not caring enough".

I've always wanted to be a writer, of novels and books and stories. 40 years ago that was my motivation. I was a writer. I lived as a writer. I adopted the reality. I wrote all the time and all the time I was working as a custodian in that college I was writing, even if only in my head. Often I could be found at one of the many study room tables with vending machines writing, or in the college cafeteria, writing. My motivation was all the science-fiction and fantasy I was raised on, and the sudden knowledge of writers like Henry Miller to solidify my ambitions.

On the adversarial side of things was my mother for whom writing was a joke - maybe a hobby, but to seriously consider oneself a writer was fantasy, especially for someone like myself for which she had greater ambitions, and writing was a waste of my life and her time as my mother. This is something I should forget, that I should have ignored. I can't and I didn't, and that in part makes me who I am today.

Being a writer meant being open-minded. It meant living the life - the life of living and gaining understanding into what living life was all about. I had felt very confused about religion, and I had found Virginia, whom I wrote about previously, who was my other mentor years ago. I never said, but she described herself as a White Witch, and she taught me about magic, that it does exist, but at a cost. But then much is not free... much costs us something.

I learned that sex is not immoral, that it is natural, and it is natural to love another, or many others. I learned that love is not a fixed feeling... that marriage is great as an ideal if two people sincerely are that much in love and beneficial to each other, but that to get married because that's what society expects is contrary to the whole idea of what marriage is. I sincerely hoped to find my soul-mate like so many others do, and I'm sure I did, but I can add failures there to my past and it makes me who I am.

I can recount all the sex I had starting 40 years ago, and after realizing I've had sex with over 60 women I can see that as a success, especially as I was in love with each of those women. For some this is not something to be proud of or to feel good about. To some this cannot be the result of a loving relationship, but rather the conquests of a male putting notches in his belt. It doesn't matter in this case what others think, it's what I think.

Not that being alone and very single today helps me face the future knowing it wasn't always like that. There was a lot that happened and believing in magic opens one to even more blessings and chaos. Suffice to say, like many others out there my life has been very difficult - a lot of compromise, success and failure.

There are perhaps a couple more parts to this topic. As can be seen in the screen capture image that follows I am a writer... and despite a following of only 10 persons, a success. What makes me a success is my view of reality, and the fact that my past is still vitally important. In the next two parts I hope to show how important sex was in my life. I also hope to show that although I may feel hopeless now, my future is very much going to be created based on where I am now and where I've been.

As a writer I am happy to celebrate the fact that BobKat's Lair has achieved 50,000 page views! Please take note of the top 5 most popular posts:

MY LIFE AND TIMES... THE WORLD OF SEX - PART FIVE

I'm a Random/Abstract, thinker/doer. Some people are Concrete/Sequential. It's called one's "Learning Style". And it's important.

The science is like this: there are 4 ways the mind can work.  In no particular order, 1) Concrete 2) Random 3) Sequential 4) Abstract.

We all have these traits in our learning style and it's what makes us who we are. It who we become. There are tests that can be done very easily to determine your learning style. That's not what this is about, I simply know what I am about as far a learning...

It's amazing how long 3 or 4 years can be, yet how short in other circumstances. At 20 I was literally crippled, mentally, so shy and confused that I was. My father urged me on, telling me once, "never say no to a woman that wants to have sex with you". He was a sales manager, often traveled. My best friend until he died at 69.

Well, just such a situation occurred, wouldn't you know? I was about 22 by then, working as a custodial at the college, living near campus, breakfast in the college cafeteria, free tuition, the whole nine yards. My co-worker, a scary dude, half Apache, half Italian was a good guy at heart, but he could come up with some vicious jokes, one time teetering on the edge of criminal. Jet-Black hair, Big, always laughing about something, like the time the professor came out in the hall talking, smoking a cigar... this is when smoking in a public place was totally legal... I had turned around to do something, and when I turned back I saw the prof. pick his cigar from the ashtray, puff on it while Tony was his name, told me how he grabbed it and wiped it on his penis. ( "dick" were his exact words).

But where was I as that was simply my routine work life? Oh, yes... never say no.

I knew a lot of women. Had a lot of friends by 22. I don't know how though I do as I already told you how. Like there being marijuana available, having a sexual relationship was similar. By 23 -24 I often wondered if it would ever happen again?

Around 22 - 23 I had a woman friend named Donna who I'd known awhile, like a year or more. We hung out together, mostly at the college in the lounge, cafe, library, or one of many study centers with vending machines and tables you could smoke at. I often sat at those tables and wrote in a note-book. I also took classes and worked hard to master the courses, homework, writing papers... I met a lot of people that way too.

My mother was the problem, with myself as the principle problem as I listened to her. I shouldn't have.

I've written in previous posts about my "mother's plan for me". I wasn't made privy of this plan and despite hearing nothing when I moved out around age 19, everything seemed to revolve around "my mother's plan".

As was the day that Donna asked me if I would have sex with her, and I said no.

Haunts me to this day; that being 38 years ago.

Around age 23 I held a party - a Saturday night. At the time I lived in an old Victorian undertakes two story house. I had the upstairs, a couple had the downstairs. I had a lot of room, rooms and the place was one of my favorites.

A lot of the time when you invite people to a party they don't show up. In this case it wasn't the case. I bought a half keg of beer and was out an hour after the party started. Some friends offered to get two more kegs, and I gave them the money. People were everywhere, a line down the stairs and out in the parking lot.

Advantage... this was the town's college... people stayed peaceable and nothing bad happened. The only gripe I heard were that friends didn't have time to talk with me. The cartoons I rented were a big hit... the movie type on film played through a projector.

The way a man feels about sex at that age compared to now is not close. Back then it was irrepressible. And for me it wasn't simply fucking. I loved the women I slept wit. We were friends... though in many cases it led to a relationship. It may have led further many times... but I had a bee buzzing in my ear.

I still can't believe I said "NO".

MY LIFE AND TIMES... THE WORLD OF SEX - PART FOUR

I could never quite get past my first true love - Sue. My heart was literally broken. I hurt all over. Fortunately, although I disagreed with her decision, the separation was amiable. Still, or awhile I drove around in circles and by her apartment building. Sometimes I would stop and park - stalking in today's standards. And although I had a right to drive and park anywhere on a public road, not only are there better places to be where I didn't have a reminder of the end, but potential confrontations can be avoided.

Around that time I found two mentors at the college where I worked; both English professors in two separate buildings. There names were Virginia and Doug.

Doug worked on the third floor of the building I worked in and had an office on the floor I was responsible for. One day I was talking with an older student about something I had written, a short story. After describing the story to her she said she thought Doug would be very interested. One night Doug was in his office late, I knocked and introduced myself, told him about my story and mentioned the referral. He invited me in, "sit down, please", he said. It began a tutelage that lasted 3 years and it's from Doug I learned what I know about relationships, and what led me to Henry Miller, and several other excellent books.

Doug is the one who helped me get over Sue but offering me sound advice and knowledge.

Virginia on the other hand was also an English professor, in the Science building, corner basement room with lots of windows. A beautiful woman in her 30's, very smart and intelligent. I found her based on my interest in religion, all religions, God and gods and goddesses, magic, sorcery, the meaning of life, the devil, reincarnation, mythology, evil, good, and a basis for morality in society.

However it was Doug who answered that urgent question. The "Thou Shalt Not..." It was Doug who said, "Thou shalt not hurt." He challenged me to find a reason why having that one moral wasn't sufficient. I could not.

Having solved my moral dilemma I moved on.

I was still writing like crazy. A typical day would begin getting dressed and heading for the college cafeteria. I brought books, and my 9"x6" notebook and pens. I chose a table, sat, wrote and over a period of a few hours chat with students. I was also a student, so I had classes to attend. Sometimes I would go visit the library or other times I would walk and fantasise about the Lord of the Rings or other esoteric ideas I came up with. I also began to study, learn and locate medicinal plants out in the forest and fields. I remember always being alone and always smoking a joint. Sometimes I would sit along a brook and write.

For a year or so while all this was happening, I was single. One night a woman named Mary was coming towards me in the hall and stopped to talk with me. I saw her again and asked her out. She said "yes".

Thus began what's essentially turned out to be a life-long friendship. Back then she was girlfriend #3. I was too arrogant with her though. Now I know that but I didn't back then. We had what could only be called a very cool relationship. I saw other women, and she saw other men. But we always made time for each other, and that meant plenty of times overnight, and fucking like rabbits anywhere and everywhere. I fucked her often when she dropped by a classroom I was cleaning. That lasted for several years then she met a guy and got married, and I moved to a distant county and enrolled at a university to get my BA degree.

I've left out one very important part of my experience. As the school custodian I pretty much knew a lot about the people, professors and staff that worked there. The one, most popular activity was wife-swapping as it's called, but husbands swap too. And from there it spread out... finding sex was like finding pot, either completely dry or swamped - rained on if you prefer. Certain women loved sex and ordinarily they found me. Whether I complied was pretty much my choice, though because they liked me I agreed. What a nice guy. Me.

You're maybe forgetting one big fact... my upbringing and the fact I still had my mother calling every 3 days to put me in my place. I experienced a girlfriend one night receive a phone call at 1AM, from her mother, and from where I laid in bed half-hard I could hear her mother call her a slut! The call went on 15 minutes until Maria, that was her name, hung-up. After we curled up tightly together and went to sleep. She was crying and I understood why.

The World of Sex is far beyond what science or the human mind can imagine. The World of Sex involves morals, mores and etiquette.  The World of Sex varies constantly and although parts of it can be identified and documented, it does little good. That's not to say however that general principles don't apply and that men and women don't have a common language they can rely on. They do. It's called talk. Plain and simply talking to one another.

MY LIFE AND TIMES... THE WORLD OF SEX - PART THREE

That was then...

Heck, I was still living at home with my parents.I had dutifully enrolled in the local community college and was pursuing a AS in Electrical technology. I passed two semester of physics, that was not easy stuff. But in my final semester, I would have to take calculus. I had put it off until last.

Around twenty, nearing it, several things changed. It all began with the use of marijuana and my sudden awareness that I needed to move away from home; that I didn't want a BS degree; that since age 8 I'd realized a dream, and I saw a way to make it a reality. At age 8 my aunt gave me Ray Bradbury's "R Is For Rocket". The short story it included called "Frost and Fire" had planted a seed in my mind that suddenly bloomed.

I became the evening custodian and the building I was assigned to was the Fine Arts Center. It was part of my plan based on "Frost and Fire". The Fine Arts building housed ceramics, photography, Painting, Drawing, English and Humanities. From 3 - 11 evenings, I kept the build going with one companion, a half and half Italian and Native American good-guy, joker, hard-worker, and watch-out! We split the building between us, where I had the top of three floors and half the basement - one and a half of the building.

Simultaneously I had moved in an apartment building just off-campus, the land-lord was an undertaker.I had my own apartment, shared the kitchen and bathroom per floor, all of two. My first plan was a woman named Debbie that I'd become close to. I remember bringing her there and then she was gone.

There was plenty of beer around as the drinking age was 18, and plenty of pot. So I was doing very well. Those were my times... as in my title.

Soon after I was at a party and I met this woman. It was a loud party and she was quite popular with the guys. In a few brief sentences we were friends and she said would give me a ride home. She did, dropped me off and drove away.

Once inside my apartment, it dawned on me, I knew her name and approximately where she lived, but I could have asked her for her phone number. Although today it might be considered "stalking", just as it was okay to drink at 18, it was okay to pick up the phone book and start calling. And eventually i got her number, and then I stopped. A week or more had passed, she wouldn't remember me, she didn't even know me, she just gave me a drive home.

And that's it... love doesn't happen (at least very successfully unless you're loaded) easily, but then it does, actually. We call it fate.

A friend, Kevin stopped over. A very good friend. I told him about how agonized I was - that I really felt something for her. But I couldn't do it.

He changed my mind with eight words, "if you don't call her, someone else will".

I called her. She invited me up for dinner with her parents. It was twenty miles and I didn't have a car. I had sold it, gave up driving, bought a ten-speed bike. Kevin said he could pick me up later but would not be able to bring me up there. So I walked.

I didn't hitch-hike, I walked the whole twenty miles, while a storm let loose overhead. It's a walk I'll never forget, around a lake. Rural and dark except with passing cars and headlights. I was twenty, walking twenty plus miles was nothing. Occasionally, that is.

I got there, we had dinner and that was our first date. Our second date we went out to dinner...

Sue was very good-looking, buxom, 5' 2', medium- long black hair, freckles and personality. She took courses at the college so was studying for a AA of Arts. She liked to paint, was great with ceramics, but she talked about Anthropology, and most interesting, she loved to fuck.

The rest is a blur - lovers in love... She lived at home so she had to be staying with me, but I don't remember. I could make something up but hey, it's true. Things didn't come into focus until we moved in together, rented our own house on a quiet street. We did our thing, I was working and as a benefit of the custodial job, tuition free. I ended up amassing 93 credits in those three years; to get an AA, AS I think it was around 50 credits. Most of the credits transferred when I got my BA, saved me a whole semester, done in a year and a half instead of two.

But back to Sue and me. We were in bliss for two really great years living there. Looking back, which I am, I'm 60, for the first time in my life (note to parents - not putting growing up with you down, it's simply just now I am in control) I felt happy, successful. For two years we fucked like rabbits. We were inseparable.

We had two problems. My mother and guys loved her, hit on her a lot. That's a lot of temptation. Regarding my mother, I can only be puzzled why I was never taught in school to stand on my own. My mother still had dominion over me and what I was doing to her was "playing house". Sue by the way is the only woman until then I'd brought home as a guest. It didn't go well. My mother was being abusive and it was affecting me; calls every 2 or three days. Guilt trips. Grow up!

It all fell apart... and pretty much that ends chapter one; something I've never been able to get past before now. That's hardly the end.