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Some Call It Dancing – Part One

July 13, 2017 Leave a comment

Yonge Street was teeming with traffic.  Downtown sidewalks were crowded with young men who lived in the inner-city core, lounging in front of the bars and clubs that line the broad street.  Other young men from the suburbs walked up and down, obviously out of their element, visiting the hectic downtown area looking for excitement.  It was the usual Friday night scene, typical of a warm summer night.  Cars lined up, patiently creeping from traffic signal to traffic signal, curb cruising as the young occupants gawked at the characters on the sidewalks.  The festive atmosphere permeated the entire scene.  It was always so – summer Friday nights, with high-school youths enjoying an after-school adventure, mixing together with urban sophists, drug dealers and users.

Even in her street clothes, which consisted of loose, baggy, faded jeans and an old cotton top with crudely stitched repairs on several of the seams, Sylvia Vichnorski did not go unnoticed.  Even as she scurried down the street hauling her gym bag, the sensual movements of her walk attracted unwanted attention.  Some young men tried to see her face as she passed.  There could be no eye contact.  She kept her face tilted down and to the side, avoiding any possibility of connection.

She hurried across Dundas Square, past a giant, brightly-lit music store.  Deftly side stepping some boys, who tumbled out onto the sidewalk, excited about their acquisitions of the latest popular music discs.  A few more steps and she turned into a narrow doorway between a pawnshop and a pizza parlour.  A small marquee with blazing bulbs declared this entrance to “Paris Paradise – GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS – Toronto’s most beautiful nude dancers”.

Barely slowing her pace, Sylvia hurried up the steep, narrow stairs, struggling with the heavy gym bag.  The pounding sound of bump and grind music poured down the stairs.  She heard some men enter behind her at the bottom of the stairs and almost ran the rest of the way to the top.  She thrusts open the door and hurried into the darkened theatre amid the deafening music.  She glanced at the stage where a red spotlight was following a semi-naked girl who was writhing with bored repetitiveness.  She felt a moment of relief, knowing she had not missed her show.  Duchess was on stage, and Sylvia knew that her music track had another six or seven minutes to go.  It meant Sylvia had enough time to get ready to go on.

 

Changing The Lives Of Others

June 19, 2017 Leave a comment

I’ve blogged in the past about being blamed for ruining some peoples’ lives. I debunked the accusations by pointing out that they were getting a free ride from me, while they had little to offer in return. Therefore, when I moved on, and spent less and less time with them, they blamed me for ruining their lives. I guess they were pissed off that they were going to have to get their own cars, boats, cottages, and all. Tough!

I might be able to claim some positive points because I’ve changed some lives for the better. A family was fragmented, there was an ocean between some of them, and when I was attracted into it, several benefits ensued.

I was divorced, and had put a little free ad on ‘Friend Finders’, and it was very effective. I was enjoying several dates each week, and frequent sleepovers. One day I received a response that was different from most.

“I am a doctor in Budapest,” she wrote. Obviously, she was of interest. I thought of her as exotic. In truth, I always hoped to date a doctor. I assumed she would be knowledgeable about the body and how to enjoy it. I also have always hoped I’d have a European lover. I feel that Europeans are more sensual than are North  American women. It’s just an assumption based on personal experience.

This Hungarian doctor was planning to visit a city where I’d lived. She was taking a rare trip to visit her only child, a son, during the Christmas holidays. The boy had moved with his father to my city, for a better life. The boy was just 20, and worked very hard to support himself and his father. He also educated himself and got a job. His father was a chemist, but ill health kept him from working.

The lady doctor is very intelligent, and did a lot of work to communicate with me in English. To help her understand my writing in the many emails she received, I spoke the same words as I wrote, so she could follow the meanings. We began to fall in love on line, even before we met. I was not eager to marry again, and I was having a very satisfying social life. Still, the doctor proved to be wonderful.

To be sure of our feelings, I went to Budapest when the doctor was back home, and stayed with her for six weeks. It went well. I went home to sort things out, and moved to Budapest. I was not able to diminish my love for her because she was so damn smart she was able to patch any leaks I might cause in the relationship.

There was some more flying back and forth over the Atlantic Ocean, some high drama getting Hungarian permission to marry, and finally the paperwork was done. Several more adventures took place, but I want to get to my point.

The doctor retired, she married me in a village on the banks of the Danube, we flew home the next day, and the day after that we moved into our cabin in the forest.

As a result, the loving mother who had been separated from her only child for two decades now had Mom close by. He had me, her Mom’s husband, as a helping hand when his father was unable to.

His life more stabilized, her son married. We moved to a house in the village where her son and his wife lived. They had a baby. My wife was a grandmother, living a couple of blocks from her grandchild. Her son and his wife each had important day jobs, so my wife and I got to participate in raising the child. She spent every weekday in our home, being cared for and taught every day.

After the baby started school, we still had her for about 3 hours every day after school.

So how did I make some lives better? Well a 40 year old son had his mother with him most every day, after 20 years apart. His mother has a grandchild that is with her for part of about 300 days a year. The child’s mother can pursue her goals and have some personal time.

I’m happy as hell, because I love being part of the child’s life, and being accepted as her ‘Papi’, or grandfather. Her biological grandfathers are unable to see her often. My own children elected to be childless, so the stepchild is a dream come true.

As for the marriage, we’re in the 15th year of our honeymoon.

Dr. Huxtable, Please Stop!

June 17, 2017 Leave a comment

I assume the Bill Cosby hung jury is because some jurists just didn’t want to tarnish the ‘America’s Dad’ image. I sympathize with that. I loved Cosby’s stand up acts, when he was just out of college. I guess I saw him on late night talk shows in those days.

Later, he was co-staring with Robert Culp in a mock cop show. I think it was called ‘I Spy’. I liked the show and the actors, and it hurts to think that Bill Cosby was drugging and raping women during those years. Why would he? Perhaps his personal kink is that the woman has to be inert. It’s abnormal, but it’s been heard of.

I was expecting, and hoping, that the prosecution would not retry Cosby. He’s guilty, and he’s old and somewhat blind, so what would the law do to him? If they would elect not to retry, the kids that loved the Fat Albert cartoons and other comedy things that Bill Cosby created, could continue to be cool with Dr. Huxtable.

Boobs, Bellies, and Butts

June 5, 2017 Leave a comment

My question to myself is; ‘why do I like the way it feels to see an attractive woman?” I wonder why my eyes linger for a moment on an attractive breast profile. I’ve been enjoying women for many decades, and still, a woman’s well-shaped ass is strangely, a pleasant sight. A smooth belly, showing between low-rise jeans and a short tank top provides a nice feeling when I see it. But why? It makes me feel like an idiot. I should be ‘way past that.

The reason why women like to groom and dress to show themselves well is obvious; it makes me, and several million other men, feel good when we see it. I imagine the same holds true for lesbians. I’m told that some women find some men’s butts attractive. That’s interesting to me. A physical feature that is virtually the same in male and female versions – the ass – is attractive to all opposite sexes.

Breasts might be attractive because they suckled us in infancy, and perhaps we react from an inner memory of safety and nourishment. In that case, women should also find breasts attractive. They, too, were suckled in infancy. Do heterosexual women find breasts attractive? I can easily imagine that they do. My personal preference has always been for smaller breasts. I don’t know why.

Male and female bellies are similar, except that female navels are higher on the belly than are those of males. My curiosity continues; why do I like it? I like the way most women wear necklines that reveal cleavage. I like the trend toward belly exposure, and I like the tights that are everywhere. They show women’s bodies as if they are naked and painted the colour of the tights, or leggings, or whatever they’re called. They’re great to see! But why?

Of course, there are attractive eyes, lips, hair, legs, voices, and fragrances, no doubt about it. At the same time, during the current fashion era, boobs, bellies, and butts lead the way. I’m sure I’m never going to understand the impulses that rise from the sight of an attractive, nicely turned out woman, and I wish they’d stop already. I’m eighty.

My final word is (this is strictly personal), when I see an attractive woman that has all the requisite features, with added piercings and tattoos, the attractive aspects dissolve. That woman is not attractive to me. I’m sure she doesn’t care, and that’s good.

Locked Eyes with a Stranger

June 3, 2017 Leave a comment

I’m sure every mature person has experienced it. You’re walking up a busy downtown street after work. You’re satisfied with how your day went, you’re in no hurry to get home, so you’re enjoying a summer day in the city, as the sun gravitates to the west. A black person (male or female, depending on your preference) comes around the corner in front of you.

Your eyes lock, and in less than a second, the minds of both people scan through a list of familiar analyses. “That’s interesting; good looking; kind of sexy; nice body; moves well; I would have sex with that person.” You pass shoulder to shoulder in silence. The moment has passed.

A man walks into a large store. He seeks some parts for plumbing repairs, but can’t find the plumbing department. He sees a woman, and on her back she’s wearing the store’s logo, so she might help. He touches her shoulder.

“Excuse me,” he says. She turns and their eyes lock. In that instant, flames seemed to fill both chests. It’s amazing, immediate passion for both parties. The woman tries to turn her eyes away from his eyes, but they spring back for a second look. At the same time, the man is trying to ignore the sexual impulse and speak. At last the woman looks away, and the man asks her for directions to plumbing supplies.

The woman is tongue tied, and can barely say “Come.” She moves past him and leaves her department to escort him to plumbing supplies. Following her, he sees that her shape and movements are as enticing as her face and eyes.

She is wondering, “what am I feeling? I could get into trouble with this man”. He is wondering, “this is incredible. Should I make a move on her? I think she feels the same. What if it’s only me, and she just sees me as another schmuck customer”.

She arrives at the plumbing department, waves her hand in the direction of the aisle and takes off back to her department. He gets his plumbing parts and leaves the store without seeing that woman again. He never forgets her, and wonders if she also remembers the moment. She does, and both individuals regret that they let the magic moment pass.

A woman is standing at the vegetable display in a large supermarket. She is opening the small plastic bag that the store makes available in fruit and vegetable departments. From behind her, a man’s voice says, “how does one open these things?” The woman turns, holding her own bag, to demonstrate. She sees his face, their eyes lock, and in an instant, each is aware that they would accept the other as a lover. But not in a vegetable department of a supermarket.

She licks her fingertips and deftly slides the thin plastic bag open. The man copies her actions and opens his bag. He wants to carry on with her, but fears rejection. He goes to the fruit department, and doesn’t see the woman again.

10. THE LAND OF MILT AND HONEY

May 25, 2017 Leave a comment

Chapter 10

The awkward kiss ended abruptly. Both Milton Korn and Honey Freed realized what they were doing, at the same moment.

“Sorry,” said Honey. “I guess the smoke…”

“I know. It’s my fault,” said Milt. “Can we just forget it happened?”

“We can be more careful in the future,” said Honey.

“Of course,” said Milt. “Let’s take a break to clear our lungs, and our heads.”

“Good idea,” said Honey. She rose to go to the kitchen. “I’ll make fresh coffee, okay?”

“Perfect,” said Milt. “I’m gonna get some air on the terrace, okay?”

“I’ll bring the coffee out,” she said. Honey had solid ideas about her dream farm, because she’d been thinking about it, analysing it, and planning it for years. Milt, on the other hand, had run into the plan abruptly, and needed to catch up.

Milton Korn sat at the small table on Honey Freed’s terrace and gazed blindly at the array of buildings across the city. His mind was not there. His mind was sorting through the characteristics of his life, and how dramatically they had changed. He wondered why he had been so firmly redirected by his happenstance meeting with Honey Freed.

His mind did not dwell on the farm. Rather, he reviewed his brief acquaintanceship with Honey. Such unlikely commitments were not typical of Milt’s behaviour. Milt took his time with things, as he took his time with his paintings. The thought flashed in his mind for a millisecond that she might pose for him. He noticed her walk as she brought a tray with coffee and bagels. She swayed gracefully on long legs that brought her to the table, and Milt imagined that she’d be quite beautiful when nude.

Honey worried that the unexpected kiss might have changed the characteristics of the  partnership. They had never discussed the stimulation that might come from sharing close quarters in a remote location. They each thought about sex. Milt felt it would intrude into his life too much. Honey thought sex with Milt might be nice. Might be.

The Easier Life of Good Looking People

May 19, 2017 Leave a comment

If you’ve been looking at the coverage of the presidential madness in the USA, you might have noticed that almost all the reporters are good looking. I noticed that all the men wear dark suits and white shirts with tasteful ties. The women, on the other hand, wear simple, tasteful, form-fitting dresses in warm, basic colours. The forms of the women to which the dresses cling are slender and shapely.

It’s doubtful that there were no plain women applying for jobs of that kind. Obviously, the employers chose applicants with equal qualifications and better physical appearance. Are they really wrong? It’s a visual medium, so the picture should be as attractive and inviting as possible.

When we watch small, local television stations, we often see attractive, young people working their way up toward network jobs. Sometimes, there is an older person that  did not make the grade, or preferred the easier life in the smaller market. Perhaps people that are less good looking make careers in radio or journalism. Perhaps they had made it into a major market when young, and then cut back when older and not as good looking.

Jacketman

I admit that I was a good looking person when I was young, and I know how comparatively  easy was my life. I remember when times of dances, parties, and proms came along, several friends would be concerned about getting dates. Most of the boys liked to go ‘steady’ with one girl. It saved them from the trauma associated with social interaction in the teen community.

When I made calls in large offices, the receptionists always seemed happy to see me. They enjoyed telling me about the current situation in the office. That meant I could go into my meeting, knowing who was having a good day, who had a fight with a staff member, who liked donuts and who liked croissants. It all helps to put clients in the right mood for your pitch of whatever you’re pitching.

Women regularly use their physical attractiveness to get things. The butcher offers a better cut for the regular price. The grocer puts an extra pomegranate into the basket. The boss lets her have a long weekend. Maybe someday, she’d marry the boss.

Maybe the good looking young man in the parking lot will enjoy a relationship with a lady who is a lawyer, or a judge, or a doctor. In any case, if you are good looking, there are still some problems, but life is easier.