IN THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES, CAMOUFLAGE PREVAILS
“Sex is not the answer.
Sex is the question.
The answer, is ‘YES’!”
Since sex is less than five or ten percent of a marriage, those who marry just for sex, find imposing reasons later on in the relationship, to not confine sex, within the parameters of their marriage, but remain as faithful, as their options and opportunities.
After all, man DOES need woman for the artistry and complexity of friendship, for filial fun, cute socializing, profound partnering, and deep soul intimacy, but they may not ALL BE with the SAME woman.
Women wander sexually, as well, as statistics reveal, that every other wife strays to another’s arms, for love making.
I often thought that women had it better ; if I were a woman, without any love, I’d be down at the docks, no underwear, waiting for the fleet to come in, with my skirt pulled over my head.
There surely HAS to be some more dignified way of expressing desire and passionate love for another human being, because the human body is a sad marvel, with its waste disposal plant, immediately adjoining its amusement park area.
Sex, is forever something that parents are loathe to discuss with their children; when I was a child of seven, they mentioned the fearful danger of sex, saying, “not to play around with sex, because it was,”playing with fire.”
At seven years old, I recall thinking,
“Well, I HAVE a hose…
But one who marries, just for sex, is buying a 747 jet, just for the little bag of peanuts.
Surely, there’s other ways to get peanuts, if that’s all that you really want.
Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, and will as soon marry for sumptuous breasts, than for love, an idea so repulsive and childish, that it takes much head shaking, to comprehend, because spiritual
love is appreciating, sharing, empathy and giving, quite bereft of the pangs of lust.
Yet, for all men’s fascination with women’s breasts, should men themselves, overweight develop breasts, they do chafe ingloriously, upset about those unmanly acquisitions.
Men are more juvenile in primitive sexual drives and emotional makeup, and women are indeed, far better human beings, providential, sensitive, charitable, strong and beautiful.
This DNA primate difference can be demonstrated.
At a very young age, place a group of five-year-old girls, in a room together, and they will sit, talk and relate to each other with civil chatter, sharing, and often with surprising wisdom.
But, place a group of five-year-old boys in a room together, and soon they will roll all over the floor, like shaved gorillas, lost in individual and mutual combative power fantasies.
Our lingering social notion that men are more important, more apt and more likely to be leaders, is still a hard social prejudice to quell.
Equality, in mutual passion, is easier to demonstrate:
When a cop on the beat encounters a young couple making love in the tall grass, in a park, he does NOT tap their shoes with his nightstick to angrily demand,
” All right, now, WHO’S in charge, here ?!”
Progress will turn HIStory, into HERstory.
Women remain naive and not the least bit aware of men’s glandular functioning concepts towards all women.
men view a woman’s public, licentious exaggerated undulations in dance as her being naked, and sexual fantasies unfurl
deep within men’s psyches.
Dance becomes sex in visualized fantasies of private encounters with these licentious, and actively lithe women on the dance floor.
For women, few rarely grasp that their public dancing, is clearly nothing but public, overt, symbolic sex.
Perhaps this makeup makes it still a man’s world, because it’s much easier, in society, to BE a man:
Each solitary, individual feature on your face always stays its birth shade and original color.
Methinks, that If men wore makeup, most would be disconcertingly prettier than many women.
If a man chooses, he might, perhaps, consider a cosmetic shave, but ONLY to some parts of his face and neck.
You can always wear shorts despite how awful your legs do look.
Your last name, regardless of marital -legal battles, stays put.
People do not ever stare at your breasts and your nipples when you’re happily chatting with them.
You are genetically and socially blind to any but the biggest wrinkles in your clothing.
Calorie intake and belly size are never a crucial consideration.
You always have the consummate and total freedom of choice about the growing of a mustache.
You don’t have to remove all of your clothes just to pee.
You can wake up just as attractive as you were when you went to bed, rather than have your beauty somehow deteriorate, during the night.
You can more easily, socially, defend your space, with knee-jerk displays of violence.
Woman, as the pretty sex, is a relatively new idea:
Pirates who wore the perfumes, jewelry, silks and frills echoed this olden concept of male beauty; a classical nude in statue, was almost ALWAYS male, historically, in ancient Greece and Rome.
This classic maleness model of beauty oddly reversed itself in the eighteenth century and women became the “pretty sex”, instead.
Throughout the animal world, whether it flies or swims, the male is STILL the colorful sex, the female, the drab one.
But since the eighteenth century, sexual and cultural reversals have oddly persisted in human affairs, and women instead have become the pretty sex.
But “pretty” means, slim and skinny, as fashion dictates.
Today, women who carry a few extra pounds, live longer than the men, who mention it…
Straight men, do not adorn themselves towards being highly polished- exceptions exist for politicians, actors, sports-stars, head gangsters, and police detectives, for within these men, narcissism, a sinful sense of entitlement, and monumental ego all loom.
In those egomaniac ‘types’ , highly-polished, self-preening is always accompanied by bullying others.
But the question remains, for the sake of guile and deceit: how curried and airbrushed is too curried and airbrushed?
The first thing I look at, when I see a polished, curried woman, is her eyebrows; if they’re natural, it’s a blast of honest sexuality that curls my toes.
If they’ve been removed and severe Groucho-Klingon brows, of crayola, at odd sharp angles, or worse, tattooed on, I experience an anxious ‘turn off’, a social warning of duplicity, and all of my ‘antenna’ are up, and waving..
Many women who look like floss, patina and veneer, are mostly shallow types who a man has to pay, for an intelligent conversation, because
they have long cared ONLY about their outsides, and not ever about, their ‘insides’.
‘Beauty’ television commercials and ‘beauty’ magazine ads feature graphics of highly curried women, extolling Western society’s virtues of vacuous, narcissistic women, who gaze back at us, made over into a man’s surreal vision of what ‘beauty’ should look like..
In Maine, at a lobster restaurant, I went to the register to pay and behind the counter, opening the register, was a tall, strikingly handsome, buxom woman, in a formal ballgown who sported a large handlebar mustache.
Her startling visage has stayed with me, for many years, resplendent and role indigestible..
It’s a cultural facade and mirage of the sadly discarded true value of beauty, which always comes from within.
A man in our culture says,”You’re beautiful”, before he says, “I love you”, and thus a woman is wrongly taught , that if beauty fades, then love must also fade.
Poorly informed, desperately seeking love, she runs scared to the beauty parlor, nail salon, hair stylist, cosmetic facial and breast implant surgeons, willing to suffer to maintain an airbrushed, curried, artificial “beauty” , so that “love” will not also vanish.
Men perpetrate this hoax until they themselves believe it.
In truth, a woman is as sexy in bed as that woman was interesting, before bed, and interesting, after bed.
But, for many non-self-respecting men, it’s all just about a woman’s exterior patina, and veneer towards sex.
For these men, none of them ever reached under a woman’s skirt, looking for her library card…
Men admit that they LOVE women who look hot and who act hot; homespun, often unwilling women, by comparison, are like radiators, men have to keep touching, to see if the heat’s coming up.
Yes, men are more shallow than one would imagine, more vain than women and more duplicitous in satisfying their overwhelming hormonal drives.
Thus, using men’s sex drive, against them, women culturally have been taught guile and deceit from a tender age, to ‘trap a man’, by using their physical, sexual allure:
shave legs and mustaches,
mascara and false eyelashes,
(“Women will never be equal to men until they can walk down the street with a bald head and a beer gut, and still think they are sexy”)
go for Botox or plastic surgery to erase facial wrinkles,
install Hershey-kiss silicone fake breasts,
paint fingers and toes.
They put on things, to make them look bigger, and things that make them look smaller;
then, they meet a man,
and they want, …”HONESTY!!”
Man, refuses to accept that makeup glamour fools the eye and deludes the heart, until he awakens after the wedding to see his bride without any makeup, and in shock thinks, “WHO is THAT?!”
Can such preoccupation with sexual camouflage avoid extra-marital diversion , and allow longevity and truthfulness towards a meaningful marriage?
Many couples who have lasted together forever, don’t have to work hard, to get along in marriage’.
When George Burns and Gracie Allen were asked how they remained so in love after sixty years, he said:
‘Marriage is a business.
When you work too hard to make the business of marriage work, you get tired, and when you’re tired , you get annoyed, and when you’re annoyed, arguments start, and when arguments start…then, you’re OUT of business’ .
I remember once being stopped and asked at Disneyland by a graying and aged couple, to “photograph them”, for it was none other than their “fiftieth anniversary”.
I saw the way he held her hand and how they hugged and kissed as I struggled to find and frame the picture.
I wondered what wisdom and marital advice they might share, for too many, marriages end sadly in divorce.
These too many short-term marriages, for too many men, seemed to me, just like a tornado:
in the beginning, there’s a lot of sucking and blowing , and later on … you lose the house.
Whatever happened to the romantic woman and to the romantic man who said that they could not live without each other?
He went East, and she went West… and they both lived.
My wife went over to speak with his wife to comment on how sweet they looked together, but when
I returned the camera as when he made his way to me, I asked him the $500,000 lulu question:
“What’s the secret to being married, so successfully, for so long?”
He looked confidential and wise and peeked to see if his wife was engaged in conversation before he spoke:
“You gotta cheat”, he whispered.
Men are like linoleum floors. Lay ’em right and you can walk all over them for thirty years. ~ Betsy Salkind