101 Get-a-'bout alley...

101getabouts : Message: todays musin'

Link: 101getabouts : Message: todays musin'.

The Drink

I am always interested in the people in films who have just had a drink thrown in their faces. Sometimes they react with uncontrollable rage, butsometimes - my favorites - they do not change their expressions at all. Instead they raise a handkerchief or napkin and calmly dab at the offending liquid, as the hurler jumps to her feet and storms away. The other people at the table are understandably uncomfortable. A woman leans over and places her hand on the sleeve of the man's jacket and says,
"David, you know she didn't mean it."
David answers, "Yes," but in an ambiguous tone - the perfect adult response. But now the orchestra has resumed its amiable and lively dance music, and the room is set in motion as before. Out in the parking lot, however, Elizabeth is setting fire to David's car. Yes, this is a movie made after 1970.

in praise of

Even as a teen, I have always pursued the girl above 30. And I have 3 solid reasons that I’ve finally been able to articulate lately.

1) As far as Dating: They give wonderful relationships that speak in a lower context. They know what they want and they won’t go indirectly and passively “testing”a man to see if he wants the same. They just ask him. It demonstrates to me that they are past the game playing/power jockeying that’s so prevalent in the twenty-something dating pool. That’s a “lady-trait”.

2) Mature physically: For one (among many), their backs. Maybe this seems a little too cheeky & fresh to admit but….Older women tend to have great muscle tone in their back. Whether escorting them through a door or holding them during an embrace, their strength seems to gently resonate from there in your hands and arms. I dunno’, it’s kinda like nature is telling me that this is a “formidable mate”. When I hold and I feel the fragile ribs of a young girl, my paternal side kinda’ kicks in and my erotic tendencies dissolve. I think to protect them more than I think to seduce them.

3) Mature culturally: Older women know the choreography of the sexes. They will stop at a door, allow you to walk street side on the sidewalk, walk first through the restaurant, etc…I was raised “high falutin’ southern, so I am more comfortable with manners and what I feel are natural socializations. Now, I do not believe that this due to a girl being raised with etiquette in previous, more polite, age that has passed. I’m beginning to realize that men are the cause for the awkwardness of the 20-30yr old woman. So many men seem to loose all manners and sensitivity from 17 to 31yrs. Young mens behavior tends to vacillate between testosterone charged narcissism, and the insecure need to mothered, they have no time to be considerate (like they were at 16 and under). But then men get back into the groove when their identity settles itself, and then, at 31, women get back into the habit of being escorted and regarded.

...got that off my chest.

I slept on it

As seen in the previous post, certain frustrations were vented concerning my attempt to court, the lovely, stable, sane, level-headed women of this city.
If it is’nt clear by now, I am clearing court of temporary, casual relationships that have floating expiration dates, and I am attempting to connect with the more formidable women I’ve adored from afar.
I am publishing my tricks used I the past and I am dumping my rants of the present here (safely away from the women who spark them) But, as a rest to the psyche.
I am submitting the clean, considerate, unangered email that the young lady received. The “good twin” letter I wrote to her as Mr. Hyde had left my system (I’m a Gemini, whaddayawant?)

Let's clear it...

Alright California Girl, What am I supposed to do? Whaddaya’ want from me? What kinda' language do you expect me to speak?

let me introduce myself...again:
I was raised on goddamn poetry, I was tickled by my grandparents all day and tucked into bed with a wrastle at night.
I baled hay, picked vegetables, and chopped wood.
I was pushed onto stage and told to sink or sing.
I ran around barefoot with 3 dogs and stole peaches and watermelons from redneck farmers. The closest kid my age lived miles away.
I took piano lessons. I had Poe, Shelly, Whitman, Robinson Carusoe, Treasure Island and the Count of Monte Cristo shoved in my face, and I hid in the attic reading Tolkien, Comic Books and Pulp. My grandfather had a strong, strict, Southern Baptist hand, he used it to knock sense into me if I was cruel to anyone or anything. My grandmother would make me sit in the bathroom for an hour if I said “Darn”. My Daddy told me to stop complaining, grow up, get the job done and be proud of it. This is the language I know.

therefore:
I’m gonna’ have energy.
I’m gonna’ jump at the chance to know strangers.
I’m gonna’ turn red with violence when someone mistreats someone else.
I’m gonna’ have puppydog playfulness.
I’m gonna’ mind my manners.
I’m gonna’ hold your hand.
I’m gonna’ flatter you like a psuedo-Lord Byron on a bender.
I’m gonna’ kiss you if I get the chance.
Sex is fun, intense and comes in a 1,000 different flavors.
I get exited over simple innocence things.
I shut down in the presence of the Westside bling-bling, the echo-park mod and the silverlake hip.

I’m gonna buy you a drink, dinner, make you breakfast, because I’m a social animal who likes having you around, wants to share an experience, who is fascinated by other people. …not because I’m playing the role of some magnanimous suitor, or because I want to get your pants off. I’m working as hard as I can to make you comfortable, California Girl, but it ain’t easy.

Stop auditioning me at dinner.
Stop searching for ulterior motives.
Stop analyzing everything I say through your “Passive Aggressive” translator. I am being either direct, or bein’ funny. They call it a “normal conversation” on the other side of the Rio Grande. If I wanted to seduce you, I’d be done already. (and that’s why you’re so pissed off, ‘cuz so many did it before, so easily)

If I wanted to get laid… (and keep this in mind): I live in Hollywood. There are dozens of bars, bookstores and restaurants peppered with would-be actresses and writers with low self esteem. They will swallow the 2 Grey Goose screwdrivers you buy them, and cling to the first thing that feigns interest in them or sincerity.

…there is no problem getting laid. There is, however, a problem trying to connect with you. These defenses, this dance, your preconceptions of men, your bitter little rules used to catagorize men as players or stalkers (and nothing else).

To go deeper, (do I dare?) your weird parents and their petty, self centered divorce you saw play out “California Style” before your young eyes. That drama is only the norm in your little flaky corner of the world. (And PS, your corner of the world is broadcast on everyones elses Tivo ‘round the globe, they know it’s just you, not reality. You don’t seem to know that)

You are hittin' 30, California Girl, would you please just RELAX. I’m sorry to preach, but I did’nt allow shallow, controlling, self important women to shape my idea of you, or of your gender. Why did you give a steady stream of assholes complete creative freedom to sculpt your perspective of men? Relationships? Why did you drink from that stream to begin with?
I think I know why, and I think you know why too. Why do I have to work against that? Forget it, go to sleep, I’m tired. We’ll talk about it in the morning.