Category: sex

The New Boomer Commune, a Television Pitch That Became a Harsh Reality

A couple of years ago, I wrote on this blog about the need for the new commune.     The original article was entitled, Boomers New Commune for Retirement Post-Recession. My first posting came on the heels of the economic meltdown.  I could see where the economic downturn, in fact the major disaster cost Boomers, their houses, their savings, their jobs, and dignity.   People who had saved short money who depending on their pensions, found their savings wiped out, their pensions in ruins.   Things did not look good then, and now, several years, later, the largest segment of the unemployed are those who are fifty-years-old and up.  Boomers.

As a generation, most Boomers lack enough financial security to retire as it is.  Few have put even  a scant $100 Thousand away for the golden years.  And now, a few years later, public service programs and entitlement programs are under attack.   While governments, federal and state kick back to the wealthy by allowing major tax breaks for the “job creators,” not jobs are really being created.  Not on the scale that is necessary.   It’s like the country is being sold off one piece at a time, and those who worked for thirty, forty, fifty years, find themselves confused, caught in a device of their own making…in big trouble.

Back in the beginning of the twenty-first century, all right, seven years ago, Marcia and I pitched to the television networks a dramatic series about Boomers finding themselves confronting the realities of not a brave but dumb new world.  As Marcia had developed such hits as Beverly Hills 90210, Melrose Place, and oversaw Dynasty, we figured pitching a night time soap opera wasn’t that big of a stretch.   At the pitch meetings, we pointed out that what services that were taken for granted would be diminished or rescinded entirely.   The proverbial carpet was pulled out from under, and now it was time for innovation.

We detailed how social services would fade into history and the aged and the middle income people would have less access to adequate medical care, food, and shelter.  You know, the basics.   I pointed out how instead of needing midwives, there would be a demand for hospice workers, nurses, and medical technicians who could administer to the commune at large.   While there would still be a need to grow crops and work the land, there would also be the need for advanced technology.   In the old communes technology was feared and rejected.  In the commune of the aging Boomer, technology is necessary for communication, access to information, and in some cases a means for some to continue to make a living well into their senior years.

The new commune would be very different from the communes of the sixties, even though the point of common ground is that on both occasions they were established by the same generation.Young Boomers back then, people in their twenties, rebelling against the system, living sex, drugs, rock and roll.   Now it would be older Boomers, just living, trying to survive.   Back to the garden. The commune.  The commune with computers.  The commune with more companionship than sexual experimentation, where the commune dwellers had matured enough so they didn’t have to take a vote on who would wash the dishes and who would walk the chickens.   The drugs were of the prescription variety and the minding expanding process was relegated to things like scanning in photos of the grandchildren or organizing reading and education programs for the local schools and nearby communities.

You know, useful stuff.  Of course there would be comedy and drama, an audience keyed in to character interaction in this ensemble cast for a television series.   We pitched this idea to every network and some of the cable companies.   We told them that Boomers and such were a major audience and as their tastes and buying patterns were way different than the old elderly.  Boomers, unlike their parents, weren’t stuck on brands and were open to new products and services.  They were technologically oriented.    They had money.  some of them, anyway.
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We described in marketing terms how sponsors would flock to but air time.    Here was a  culturally rich platform to sell their, designer jeans,  pharmaceuticals,  magical yogurts, nutritional health bars,  and luxury cars…the Valhalla of marketing platforms for the Lexus, Mercedes, BMW…and let’s not forget Viagra.

However, the networks were not run by Boomers.  The networks were run by people barely out of their fetal stage.   Little embryos and often with brains to match.  Network executives were largely people of privilege who had been largely insulated from the harsh realities of the world.  These are people who are largely not overly imbued with a sense of social empathy and as a group their historical understanding ranges all the way from Happy Days to Happy Hour.    This was a new marketing segment, an emerging marketing segment that had yet to be tested.  As someone who has worked in marketing, as yet to be tested, means that fifty people above and below have nary a clue of the issue  and its potential before you.   As  iconic screenwriter William Goldman has said about Hollywood, “No one knows nothing.”  And his sage-like statement is no truer than when essentially spoiled, self-absorbed and insecure people are confronted with a new idea.  Even it the idea sounds plausible, it can’t be because no one has proposed it before.   The system shuts down.   To the shock of no one, we were told no.

Okay, so now here we are.   We have politicians wanting to do away with social security and deny a fair amount of social services.  On one hand you have Wall Street, like Sirens of the Cosmic Peep Show promising that if you just give them your money, lush retirement awaits you…you aging fool.  You can have a new career, another business,  a chance to do all the things and have all the experiences you should have had the first place instead of saddling yourself with a thankless job where you worked for trinkets and baubles until they finally fired your sorry ass during the latest Recession.

Out of work, unemployed, not a lot of bread in the bread box, you have according to the actuaries another twenty to forty years of life on this planet, and the question is how the hell are you going to make it?

How indeed?  Well, there are all these blighted towns out there they could be restored and turned back into communities.    Abandoned urban areas that could be reclaimed.   Communities where there is close proximity to the shops and services.  Where as a commune or compound you can actually function and live your life.   The modern commune.   Maybe there are jobs and maybe the jobs are created from within the commune.  Internet commerce or whatever.  In any event, most commune members would have some Social Security income, some kind of pension.    Maybe it’s not necessarily stuck out in the middle of some boondocks paradise where you are a million miles from the hospital, should your heart act up or your hemorrhoids start to bother you.

Places that are reclaimed.  Where you can be cared for by people just like yourself.  Everything from retired healthcare workers to IT folk, chefs, and crafts workers.   Other Boomers pitching in, long evolved from the concerns or post-adolescence and focused on the ardors of survival in a world that may yet reject them.  It ain’t the Garden, but then it aint’ the Grave Yard either.   And it sure beats the hell out of Leisure World.

Evergreen Review Publishes Book Review for The Guys Who Spied for China

The Evergreen Review holds a special place in my heart.  Along with its book publishing division, Grove Press, from the mid-century on,  intrepid visionary, alias the publisher, Barney Rosset,  brought forth to this nation a tremendous selection of cutting edge literature.  This was literature that few back then would dare publish.   Even today many of these remarkable contemporary writers  would still be wanting a publisher had it not been for Rossett.

The Evergreen Review and Grove Press publication list, first introduced Americans to Samuel Beckett and William Burroughs.    Grove published the unexpurgated version of D.H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterly’s Lover, Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer, among other of the author’s works,  and the unabridged work of Marquis De Sade.   Grove and Evergreen published international authors, some of whom would go on to be awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature.   Like Japanese novelist Kenzaburo Oe and Per Lagerkvist in Literature.

Evergreen Review published Jean Paul Sartre, John Rechy, Octavio Paz,  Malcolm X, John Rechy, Jakov Lind, Jack Kerouac,  Jean Genet, and Allen Ginsburg.   There are so many that it is almost senseless to name them all.    You can find a list of authors at the Evergreen Review website, which I have linked to here…Evergreen Review.

Back in the Paleolithic Era when we were supposed to be good children reading Silas Marner, I was visiting the long defunct Marlborough Bookstore in New York.   The Marlboro Bookstore was a local chain and was unique as it put on its remainder shelf copies of Grove Press publications.  They sold them at a bargain off of list price.  Just a buck.  For one dollar, not the smallest amount of money for a high school kid in search of something  a little more a little more relevant than the classics, I could rummage Marlboro on the cheap and find in Grove and Evergreen this marvelous new world of writers.   These were writers who had not been  sanitized with century’s worth of time time and that incumbent respectability.   These were flawed individuals, exploring the world around us, offering us at times often gritty and surreal insights.

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This is where I cut my teeth.   These were the writers who worked to define modern times and now and then offer illumination and poetic transcendence to a world that was getting crazier by the moment.   Some of these writer had been published elsewhere.  Some had not been published at all.   But here in a changing America, Barney Rosset made sure their voices were heard.

I write this because Evergreen Review was kind enough to review The Guys Who Spied for China.  While I make no points of comparison to others who have graced its pages, my literary exposure started with Evergreen Review, so it’s like a full cycle.  I am delighted.  It means a lot to me.  Live long, Barney, and publish for another dozen centuries.   Given what the publishing world is today, it truly needs guys like you.

Here is the link to Kevin Riordan’s review of The Guys Who Spied for China.

The People We Love to Hate

Not long ago, on one of the book blog sites, some guy went out of his way to tell me how indifferent he was to my work.   I responded once and asked him if he was so  indifferent than why did he go out of his way to tell me.  I thought if he had actually read the book it would be one thing.  If he hated my guts for some other reason, okay.   I realize I am not on everyone’s Christmas list.

My reply elicited further responses from him where he again reiterated that it was the subject matter with which he would be indifferent and would never read.   I finally thanked him for taking  time  from what I was sure was a frantic schedule to register his indifference to the extent he had.   Civil restraint prevented my real considerations on the probable status of his life.  I have not always been the world’s best practitioner of civil restraint, so I guess that is mark of  progress.

Obviously, there was something about me or the book subject that caused this intense reaction.   And then I started thinking of how when we as a society should perhaps feel indifferent we go out of our way to declare our own distaste for things.   In fact, with certain politicos and celebrities, certain hot button issues,  rather than just declare our displeasure or say nothing at all, we cannot leave it alone.  Doesn’t matter what side of the political or social spectrum you are own or how enlightened you may perceive your lifestyle, there is always somebody or something that causes us to rail on wherever and as often as we can.  And that becomes a trap where the logic of indifference is corrupted by our passions.  We end up devoting way too much time and emotion to things with which we should really care less.

We should know better.   Not that we should know better because we are above it all and should transcend the rancor by taking the high road and retaining an enlightened state of mind.   We should know better because we are of an age when it is the media’s main job to manipulate our thoughts and sentiments, our social belief,s and political perspectives in order to establish a multi-level marketing platform for its celebrity flavors of the week.   In short, we are being used as marks and proud of it.    We are either the support group, or we are the opposition.   In the hands of a manipulative media and those ringing up the cash register we are two sides of the same coin.

Stirring up the crowds is nothing new.   Professional wrestling has done it for years.   In professional wrestling you have the hero, the glowing and glistening symbol of virtue and skill, and you have the heel.   The heel is the bad guy, the one who fights dirty and says outrageous things, who thumbs his nose at the crowd.   The heel revels in the crowd’s hatred.   Hen needs the crowd as much as the hero needs the crowd.   The crowd with its boos and catcalls supports the heel as much if not more than it supports the hero.   The crowd loves to hate the heel.  In both instances without the crowd there would be no controversy.   There would be no sport.

With wrestling as with most things socio-political, the hero and the heel are interchangeable.   A wrestler has a run as the hero for awhile, and then when his adoring public grows tired of adoring him, he becomes the heel.   Those who loved him, suddenly hate him.   He is the one now prancing arrogantly in the center of the ring and thumbing his nose at the crowd.   He is now the one disparaging his opponent while making outrageous predictions about the state of things to come.     As the hero he sold tickets to the show.  As the heel he sells tickets to the show.  People pay money to see him get his ass beat in.  And when it doesn’t happen, when he prevails over the current heroic symbol of virtue and merit, the crowd gets to hate him that much more.

The socio-political spectrum is different in a variety of crucial ways.   Unlike wrestling, with things political and social we don’t just invest in tickets.  We invest with our lives.   But nevertheless we are manipulated by a media, or more directly the media conglomerates,  that have a financial motivation to work us into a frenzy.   Media or more to the point what passes for news media these days has realized there is no money anymore in providing objective news reports and thoughtful analysis.    As Campbell Brown, a recent CNN news show causality, remarked that the public does not want objective news anymore.  The public wants the type of news that supports its own points of view.    Apparently, we would rather cheer blindly from the sidelines than try to analyze the facts.

Whether the media conglomerates created the condition where news as opinion pieces or whether they responded to public taste I suppose is a matter of conjecture.   But they certainly have profited from its condition.  By eliminating objective messaging and critical thinking from what passes for news shows, the conglomerates were able to develop  media celebrities of every stripe, ethnicity, and political perspective.   These are the chosen who were developed to pander to the crowds by offering an alternating spectrum of simplistic solutions to complex challenges or a spectrum of crackpot ideas.   In short, like wrestling, they were able to develop opposing forces for any issue.   This in turn created a passionate fan base and multi-marketing platforms and the subsequent delivery systems that can offer everything from speaking engagements and books, to rallies and picnic baskets.

It could be claimed  that Fox News was the first to venture forth on television with the decidedly slanted news format.     I should say Fox News took the elements political talk radio. and carried them further.  While I am not the world biggest fan of Fox News  and while my total talk radio listening time, annually, is less than an hour,  I give credit, if that is really the word, to these two platforms for changing the dynamic of news and politics.  Both talk radio and its logical spinoff, Fox News,  determined from the outside that their programming didn’t chase after viewers’ minds as much as their emotions.

While political radio could raise the blood pressure by taking call-ins, Fox News  inflamed the passions  with the Fox good guys taking on the bad guys.   Like some electronic rendition of the Medieval Inquisition, Fox pundits in the name of “fair and balanced” were fond of dragging the progressives and liberals, and the rest, for the opposing point of view.  Between commercials, they would give these straw men  five seconds to explain their point of view before browbeating them like some  jingoistic weed whacker.   If you believed in what the Sean Hannity’s and Bill O’Reilly’s had to say, you felt yourself vindicated.   If you were the more progressive thought you would find your blood boiling over.

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Coulter, Malkin, Rush Limbaugh, and, later, Sarah Palin and Glenn Beck, represented a new dynamic in media marketing.    Unlike wrestling, where the character was either the hero or the heel, these pundits were heroes and heels all at once.  They were loved and they were hated.  The more they are hated, then the more they are loved.    The more they are loved and hated, the greater their revenue.   Let them say something outrageous and it is all over the media, conservative and liberal alike.  The only difference is where one side applauds the remarks, the other side regards them as Satan’s spawn.   What is conclusive is neither the veracity or the falsity of their written and spoken words, but that their polarizing effect generates some major bucks for both the players and their handlers, the media groups.    So not only is there a lot of money in saying things that people agree with, there is an equal amount to be gained by having your critics declare how stupid you are.

The liberals, of course, after decrying the conservatives for their crass statements and wanton venality, finally decided that taking the high road offered little assurance they would reach their final destination.   So they formed their own media platforms that is other than those of the “traditional liberal media,” where progressive pundits could offer their own brand of ridicule for the things they detest the most.   Hence MSNBC, after myriad incarnations, developed finally a workable format for progressive ideology.    There are the Rachel Maddow and Keith Olbermann who offer their own brand of competing self-righteous indignation to what some may consider the good fight.   There is also Progressive Radio or Air America, or whatever it was the last time I looked with Tom Hartmann, Randi Rhodes,  and the famously unfunny funny man  turned current and competent U.S. Senator Al Franken.

For progressive media, a fair share of the commentary includes the castigation of  conservative mainstays like, Rush Limbaugh, Michelle Malkin, Bill O’Reilly,  Ann Coulter, and Sarah Palin.    Progressive hosts rail on about them like the fashion police dishing at high school.   This in turn inspires  lastest outrage from the Legion of the Outrageous, which in turn causes viewers and listeners to take ongoing umbrage and the latest indiscretion.   This not only boosts radio and sales for the support group, the progressive media pundits who now peddle their books, lectures, events and such, but gives food for the right to carry on with its own agenda, giving speeches, writing books and otherwise catering to their own support group.

In a world where many are concerned about ecological condition’s and environmental matters,  the socio-political  media is the primary example of environmental harmony.  If you say something your side likes and supports, you make money.  If you say something the other side hates, you make money.   The only time you can lose money is if you address complex issues with more than a sound bite or buzzword.  This tends to confuse the audience and tends to be off putting as critical thinking is required.  In a world we are programmed that solutions are simple and cinema heroes resolve international conflict in an hour and forty two minutes,  you don’t need the dynamics of complex critical issues and all that is required to solve them to go raining on the delusional parade.   The more you think about things, the less time you have for railing out your own particular party line.   Complex thinking requires deeper thought, which results in extended contemplation , which means fewer books and public appearances for those who actually have to explain themselves in greater detail.

While we are not exactly a nation worthy of our heritage as being born in the Age of Reason, we are not always stupid.  We recognize that these media pundits are not just out there for the well being of America or the general common good.  We recognize that Glenn Becks recent soirée  at the Lincoln Memorial is less altruistic and more for the benefit of Glenn Beck than anyone else.   We recognize that Rush Limbaugh didn’t make his few bucks by initiating a selfless campaign for the good of Mom and Apple Pie.   We realize Sarah Palin resigned as Governor of Alaska to devote more time to optimize her own window of opportunity to make money hand and fist.   We realize that every pundit right or left is dependent on their audience to stay on the air.  Former Congressman, Dick Armey, has feathered his nest as the spokes person for the Tea Party or whatever the hell it is called this season.   Al Gore didn’t go broke by promoting the environmental movement.   The more they incite their adversaries, the higher the ratings the more money they will make.

Yet,while we know these are puffed up entertainers posing as news analysts and politicians we cannot refrain from taking them seriously.   We care when Keith Olbermann rants on about Sarah Palin using bullets as symbols for the targeted politicians the Republicans believe are vulnerable to being unseated.   Obviously, Palin chose the bullet images as a ploy, in fact as part of her branding, but just about every commentator on MSNBC and elsewhere went for the ploy, revving it up disproportionately as if she was truly recommending the assassination attempts on these veritable  Moose Lodge Members.  Beware!  Oooohhh..     Served Palin well as it reinforced her branding, and served the progressive pundits as it reinforced their selling of  the great Palin threat.

There are hundreds if not thousands of examples.  A decade ago it was the Clinton’s, and now it is Obama.  Or it is what Limbaugh has to say about this or Pelosi has to say about that.  Dr. Laura, Al Shartpon…pick your poison and then go piss and moan.    People don’t just disagree, but they work themselves into a frenzy, inciting the blogsphere with incantations and variations on the theme.     And from it all we are farther and farther removed from any condition of unity or relative attempt at consensus.   We don’t exchange thoughts; we utter slogans.   Name the topic, name the person; each side has its jargon to address the issue.   Bite sized jargon that will fit nicely between commercials and book plugs.

I don’t discredit these pundits for self-promotion.  It is America, the land of opportunity.   It’s tough in an overpopulated world to rise from obscurity and make a name for yourself.   Especially when at heart you are an imbecile.  Well not really an imbecile, because despite all popular thought about some or our noteworthy media folk, it takes a  wily coyote to climb the heights of media recognition.   You can lack knowledge and you can have the intellectual depth that goes from A to B and back again, but there is a talent to manipulating the media to where you hold sway on public thought.

I guess in the end, I want to know why we even care about these people or what they have to say.  Obviously, most are a long way from scholars or experts on the subject.  And then, considering the state of things some of which are the result of the pondering of experts on the subject, why do we hold in such regard the positions of any of these people?   Logic would dictate that you delve deeper and conduct your own critical thinking, before this once easily accessible thought process is relegated to the junk pile of modern consciousness or turned into a lost art.   You would think we would regard most of these people as self-aggrandizing snake oil vendors and take their offerings no more to heart than we would a dancing bear.   You would think we would spend a lot less time pissing and moaning about them and tripping over their incomplete thinking and figure out in traditional American pragmatic process how to get ourselves out of this mess.

But we don’t.  Maybe as a nation we have too much time on our hands.  Without celebrity, we only  have ourselves.  And without the heroes and heels, we have only ourselves to blame and then we must shoulder the responsibility of rebuilding the country.   And that, media-wise, is a very hard sell.

Reflections on The Constant Travellers, Now on Kindle and EBooks

The Constant Travellers, a novel by me, Gordon Basichis, has journeyed a long way over the years.   Since it was first published by G.P. Putnam’s its film rights have been optioned twice by two motion picture studios, Twentieth Century Fox, and MGM.   The Authors Guild adopted it as part of their Back in Print Program at the beginning of this century.   Originally, it has been recognized as a quirky Western Epic Fantasy, full of humor and philosophical insight.  It was seen as a metaphysical book, embracing and also satirizing some of our more sacred cows.

Some people loved it, and some people hated it.  Most agreed it was a mixed genre type of novel that fell into a lot of categories while never being pigeonholed by any single one.  One critic called it “the West that never was.”  I don’t think she was trying to flatter me.  But, nevertheless, I still took it as a compliment.  History for the most part is never as it was.  So in the arts, why not take it to a much further, illogical extension?

It was my first novel.  There was one before it where a publisher bought it but a regime changed aborted its release.  But The Constant Travellers came out with a lovely cover, at a time when covers were replicas of such exotic things as original oils.  In this case, noted artist, Ron Walotsky, painted the original oil that became the cover.  Ron was kind enough to sell me the painting, and it hangs on my wall to this day.

I am proud of this book.  It was truly a labor of love and a work of fiction written by a young writer who knew almost nothing about the exigencies of the publishing industry with all its precepts and machinations.  I never pitched it or really wrote an outline for it.  One day the first couple of sentences popped into my mind and off I went, working out the story as I progressed.  I loved writing that way as the characters and story was always filled with surprises.  I knew in my efforts I would try to deconstruct time and space and demonstrate for the children of fate and circumstances there really are no accidents.   Life has its meaning not in the greatness of the celestial or in eternity, but in the people you meet and the things you learn from them as you wander down the road.   True enlightenment, as I believed then and still believe today, is not handed down by a higher order but through the experiences gained from human interaction and where you take them from there.

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Anyway, The Constant Travellers, has arrived in the twenty-first century and made it to Kindle, Sony Reader, and soon will be on IPad and other epublishing channels.   I am happy about this.   The money, fortunately, is not so important at this juncture in life.   But to see a newer readership, a mixture of younger people and former drug taking, sex having Boomers who may see this book as a life once led, there is much gratification.   I am glad to see it out there.

What a trip it has been.

“ Ebook Description

“Sex, drugs, and the West that never was. In this funny and philosophical tale, young Shelby Lopez encounters Thunderbird Hawkins in post Civil War America. The Indian shaman teaches Shelby of the Great Necklace and the Great Book. Their journey leads them to wisdom and an understanding of man’s destiny. While set in the Old West, the novel’s modern idiom is as contemporary as if it were today.”

The Planet of the Wanton Geriatrics

Life can be cruel at times.  Life can be filled with contradictions.  Contradictions that become paradoxes in our day-to-day lives and as the years progress  leave us wondering,  what the hell happened?   The cruelty part is that there is no going back, no modifying the order of things or adjusting priorities.    Despite all good wishes and inspiring messages to the contrary, in pure existential terms we are left at the end of a cycle in possession of our triumphs and losses, our insights and misgivings.    Life in hindsight becomes a mathematical puzzle of sorts, but with escalating complexity as our perception of events and their outcome is constantly mutating, leaving us to readjust the pieces as time goes on.

There are different versions of assessment and readjustment, each filled with mixtures of satisfaction and regret.   I am not talking about the macro stuff here, the atrocities and eco-disasters, the flagrant disorders of the world.  Catastrophe is relatively easy to assess and reconcile on the macro level than the universal eventualities that sooner or later enter our lives.   Aging is one such area where the large, universal picture eventually makes a very lasting acquaintance.  With aging comes its usual accessories, health issues, frailty,  culminating in an intimate howdy do with our own mortality.    Such concerns are all out there, until that one day when you look in the mirror and start to think, “do I know you?”

But like it or not, we have all been programmed to deal with aging and mortality.  For the most part we think happy thoughts.  You turn on the TV and there is some saccharine commercial to remind you of all the tender moments you experience with friends and family in your approaching dotage.   We get the Lion King Circle of Life Routine , and we are encouraged that our brief blip on the radar screen may be filled with meaning and purpose.    We take heart in the acts of familial succession  and the belief we will reincarnate as we have before.    We project in the back of our thickening skulls that upon our return we will access the lush life, refusing to believe that in past lives and the ones beyond it we were meager peasants whose greatest triumph was now getting trampled by the noble’s horses.

Without all this concern for mortality and the afterlife there would not be much of a market for religion and corny movies.  All those Hallmark Cards and Kodak Moments may be selling at a discount on the dusty back bin of the  Dollar Store.   Mortality is perplexing.   It gives us food for thought and a sense of spirit and a glimmer of eternity.   It keeps us in line.  Or it doesn’t.    But few ever scoff at the notion that somehow, in some way, I am paying the price for my deeds and misdeeds.

But honestly, this is all the easy stuff.   Life and death; there’s nothing to it.  Whether you are stuffed in a hole or return again to repeat the same mistakes or make different ones, this concern is really a piece of cake.   Because at the end of the day your beliefs may give you comfort, offer solace at that heavy trafficked intersection of doubt and faith.   But the morning after, whatever you believe becomes moot.  Unless you hit the jackpot by guessing correctly on the Eternity Betting Pool  and then your journey to the other side rests comfortably on auto-pilot.

What isn’t easy is sex.   Sex is fraught with cruel paradox as if the great creator did some custom body work on Adam and Eve as if for the purpose of a practical joke.   Doesn’t really matter if it is Adam and Eve, Adam and Adam, or Eve and Eve, or any combination therein, the fact that each group is victimized by biology and its staggered time frame for sexual desire.    It is no secret that men are more interested in sex at an early age, their late teens and twenties.  Men have sexual thoughts about once every twelve seconds, barring distractions like earthquakes and fires.   And even then….  Women on the other hand may have sex at an early age but according to one study in the British Medical Journal that was also reported in Time Magazine, that for women that full blown libidinous activity doesn’t kick in until their late twenties.   The article reported that women are not having more passionate sexual fantasies between 27 and 45 but they are actually having more sex than women 18 to 26.   Sounds hard to believe, but, hey, its Time Magazine and the British Medical Journal, after all.  Who would know these things if they didn’t?

The theory is associated with evolution.  In a nut shell, in her younger years, a woman didn’t have to work so hard at sex to become pregnant.  It was only a matter of time.  Fewer times.   But over time and with aging having children was a greater challenge and as women had children at an older age, the sex fantasies and desire kicked in to accommodate the advancing years.

Here is the passage from Time Magazine—

Here’s how their theory works:

“Our female ancestors grew accustomed to watching many of their children — perhaps as many as half — die of various diseases, starvation, warfare and so on before being able to have kids of their own. This trauma left a psychological imprint to bear as many children as possible. Becoming pregnant is much easier for women and girls in their teens and early 20s — so much easier that they need not spend much time having sex.”

Otherwise, it http://miamistonecrabs.com/contact-us/ get cialis overnight will invite lots of complications in your personal relation. When you have had a issue then so viagra cheapest when you fail or encounter one of those dark nights or winter seasons consider these three touchstones as points of potential light: It’s Always Darkest before the Dawn Trust there’s a lesson on the other side and find comfort in knowing there are lots of footprints to follow or provide light on the path to success. Why knee fat reducing liposuction is so important? Along with the Unit Head. cialis without prescription Each treatment is custom-made based on the sample generic viagra injury and consequences. I believe there is more involved that physical evolution.   Reportedly, in women, the libido takes a breather, while for men it keeps right on going.    Boomer women especially, having been programmed to behave themselves in order to appear decent and marry the right sort of fellow, became sexually active a little later than the younger women of today.    Boomer women had to keep their legs crossed if they were going to be the good girl.  For extra money, the only call girling they did was to call their parents and beg for a larger allowance.   Or they worked in the college cafeteria or took a job as a waitress.  Alright, so come college they met a boy and the boy was nice…and they started to fool around.

It is only later in life that Boomer women start to smarten up and ease off the guilt that was fire forged and ice hardened by concerned but fearful parents.   Time is passing, and opportunity is dwindling.  Before you end up having heart-to-hearts with a pet iguana there is time for a virtual fling.   Some women, to avoid labeling and scrutiny even move to different and distant places.   Santa Fe in the years I lived there was fraught with single Boomer women on the prowl.  The difficulty was there were so few men, and the men who were single or available made the Peter Pan Syndrome appear the lexicon for ancient and sage-like wisdom.  Like I say, life can be cruel and full of paradox.   Even the married women aged 27 to 47 have more sex than younger or older women.  Sexual peak and all that.  As for the fantasies, let’s say more than a few do not involve their present partner.

But then, as the report contends,  after that hot and heavy decade or three of sexual desire, replete with fantasies and late night longing, the warranty on the libido begins to lapse.   The Cougar business notwithstanding, the  hunger is  more for the lascivious display at Yogurt Land than the sexual encounter.   The report, or the study, as with any other study, has its flaws.  Older women may be divorced or widowed, or are less inclined to gab it up at gray haired mixers.  I don’t know.

And there are the men.  Their trajectory is dramatically different.  They start off strong and then start to flag as they approach or enter middle age.   It is a mixed bag of reasons.   This is not to say men of this age have allowed women to corner the market on sexual fantasy and romantic pursuit.   But it just ain’t the same.   Suffice it to say they are far more interested in 3-D than a D-Cup.  Unless the D-Cup is actually on the 3-D Television, and then the may go off on his lonesome to remember old times.

But then something kicks in and as men get older they get horny again.   Go figure.  Just when you thought it was safe to crawl back between the sheets.   Back a few years in history,  a man confronted the dreaded reality that the brain may still be filled with desire, but the penis has downshifted to a lower gear.     Lust over limpness, if you will.  So in was once upon a time the awkward but somewhat natural order of things, both spouses acclimate to the new conditions of age and erosion and spend more time showing their friends more pictures of their grandkids or that wing ding at Lake Havasu.

An equilibrium of sorts had been established.  But along comes Viagra.  Men become randy old fools and, according to the report, women tend to other matters.  Statistically,  67% of the men between sixty-five and seventy-four were sexually active.   Only forty percent of the women in same age group were sexually active.   A third of the men in the age range of 75 to 85 said they had sex within the last twelve months.  Only 17% of the women in the same age group can make the same claim.  Frankly I am impressed by the men, not so much that they had sex but at that age they can still remember they had it.   As for the women, as noted before, the report did not take into consideration some easily identifiable extenuating factors.

Alright, so what has this been doing to senior America?  And you believed their main concern was losing their Medicare.  Unh uh.   Aged boners are messing up the fire drill.   Older men are zipping up the Sansabelts and jumping the reservation.   At an age when their physical activity may be a a vigorous workout on the treadmill, they are sowing sin in Sun City.   Talk about an alliance among the willing.   They are jumping off their electro carts and cruising the streets for desperate hookers in a down economy.     According to an article in the Daily Beast, they are bringing back sexually transmitted diseases to hearth and home.    Imagine this doctor’s surprise when an eighty-year-old guy shows up with the clap.   They are leaving their wives,  and they are cheating on their wives.  Or, worse, they are forcing themselves on their wives.

The result is mixed.  According to the article, some women are enthused.  But most are not.   They thought this part of their lives were over and now the long retired  Jumping Jack Flash has nothing but time on his hands and a chubby.    Many women find such entreaties annoying.   But then, if they don’t for a few bucks or a couple hours distraction someone else will.  So leave it to good old American know how to produce a female version of Viagra.   The intent was to utilize  Boehringer Ingelheim’s  flibanserin, a drug for premenopausal women, as the new boost for women who report a lack of sexual desire.  Let’s follow the credo, even if there isn’t a market, create one.   Lots of high hopes.   But in two different studies the drug failed to show any increase in sex drive.  The elusive search continues.

Like I noted, there are exceptions to all of this and there are certainly extenuating factors.   But there is still no denying that life is cruel and full of paradox.   Not only as Elmore James once declared does he love her, but she loves him and so forth…but the sexual trajectories of men and women are so different their sexual encounters are torn asunder by bad timing and nature’s doctrine.   It’s hard enough to find love, and then when you do it’s sexual manifestation can become a total pain in the ass.  Perhaps in the end, our desire for satisfaction had disrupted the natural order of things.   At this time of life, Bill Maher joked, “maybe people shouldn’t be having sex.  It has to hurt,” he said. ” It hurts just to stand up.”

For me the bottom line is like all challenges, time will eventually sort this one out.  Or not.   And maybe those who resort to prayer, asking the Lord or the Goddess or the Universe, whatever, to sort out the rights and wrongs, to give them things, bring peace and prosperity, should beseech that same supreme being  that it would really be nice to rethink the math on the cycles of human sexuality.  Life is hard enough.