February 12, 2018 · 5:42 am

Boredom Vs. A Lack Of Belonging: Which Drives Outrage Culture More?

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Here’s a quick non-rhetorical question. Which is worse, crippling boredom or social isolation? There’s no right answer, but every answer has distressing implications. More than anything else, those answers reinforce why solitary confinement is rightly considered torture.

I ask that question because I had an interesting conversation with someone on Reddit about what drives certain people to be constantly outraged about whatever happens to be controversial that day. I’ve talked a bit about outrage culture before and how professional trolls exploit them, but I haven’t really dug into the mechanisms behind it. Given how new controversies seem to trend every day, I think it’s worth scrutinizing.

In the discussion, I singled out boredom as a possibly underrated factor. Having highlighted the power of crippling boredom, I felt qualified to make the case that boredom may very well be an understated, under-appreciated cause. I still feel there’s a case to be made.

In the grand scheme of things, humanity is in uncharted territory when it comes to boredom. For most of human history, we had to live our lives under the constant threat of plague, famine, war, and natural disasters. Whether we were hunter/gatherers or subsistence farmers, life was chaotic and unpredictable.

Say what you will about those harsh, pre-modern eras, but they weren’t boring. They couldn’t be. There was always work to do. Given the lack of effective birth control, there were children to raise. Even if social media had existed 100 years ago, who would have the time or energy to even be outraged about a man wearing a sexist shirt.

Fast forward to the 21st century and things like war, famine, disease, and crippling poverty are all in decline. This is objectively good on so many ways, but for some people, especially in well-to-do middle class people, it leaves a large void that quickly becomes boring if not filled with something. Sometimes, it can get so bad that it can lead to outright murder.

When I made this argument, I think more than a few people took it seriously on Reddit. It was easy to see how someone whose life is so affluent and devoid of heart-pounding conflict that they will latch onto petty outrages just so they can feel something. Like someone stuck in solitary confinement, they’ll do anything for some sort of stimulation beyond counting the tiles on the floor.

Given how our brains can’t always discern the source of arousal, sometimes it’ll settle for whatever adrenaline rush we get from righteous outraged. Some go so far as to call the rush we get from outrage an addiction and it’s not a wholly inaccurate idea.

However, one person in that discussion pointed another element that also relies on that part of the brain that can’t always discern what gets it aroused. Instead of combating boredom, though, this issue deals with our inherent need to join a group and become part of a larger movement.

It’s very much an extension of tribalism and, like seeking stimulation when there is none, human beings are well-equipped by evolutionary biology to form groups. Whether we’re a small band of hunter/gatherers or a group of Taylor Swift fans, it doesn’t take much for us to form those groups and our brains reward us greatly.

Being part of a group feels good. Being part of something gives us a rush. It’s a major reason why peer pressure works and why tribalism often overrules reason. That solidarity we feel when we’re part of a group isn’t just intoxicating. It’s a fundamental component of any highly social species, which includes humans.

What this means for those constantly outrage isn’t that far off from the implications relating to boredom. Like boredom, our current society is pretty unprecedented in terms of how easy it is to form a close-nit group and share in that solidarity that has been driving our species since the hunter/gatherer days.

Thanks to social media and mass communication, it’s possible for people to do more than just share their opinions, no matter how outrageous they might be. It’s also possible to connect with those who either share in those opinions or despise them. In terms of forming a tribe, it’s a two-for-one-deal because it creates both a sense of “us” while revealing a “them” to rally against.

For anyone who has spent any amount of time on social media, it doesn’t take much to see the whole us versus them mentality to take shape. If any amount of disagreement goes on long enough, Godwin’s Law usually takes over and the battle lines are set.

On top of this, the social issues in 2018 aren’t quite nearly as clear-cut as they were in decades past. In the past, there were some pretty egregious injustices surrounding civil rights, women’s rights, and LGBT rights that required major social movements to combat. By and large, society has done a lot to improve the state for these marginalized groups.

There’s no question that being part of such righteous movements is laudable. We, as a society, rightly praise civil rights leaders who stand for such righteous causes. Naturally, some people seek to emulate that. Whether by ego or altruism, it’s only natural that they want to experience that kind of accomplishment.

Thanks to the sheer breadth of human progress, though, there causes on the levels faced by Martin Luther King Jr. or Mahatma Gandhi. However, because that drive to be part of a movement is just that strong, those same people will settle for pettier movements that protest sexy women in video games or bemoan the lack of diversity in old TV shows like “Friends.”

Make no mistake. Those outrages are petty and asinine when compared to the real injustices that past social movements have fought, but the brains of the outraged can’t tell the difference. From their perspective, their movement is every bit as righteous as every other civil rights movement in history. The outrage they express and the solidarity they feel is every bit as fulfilling as something that alleviates boredom.

Even if these causes are petty and the outrage is shallow, it’s important to note the alternative here. If these same people who protest the lack of diversity in the tech industry didn’t have this sort of thing to drive them, then what would happen to the group they’d formed?

Absent that outrage and protest, the group has nothing to rally behind. The person has nothing provoking arousal, be it anger or excitement. Without this dynamic, they don’t belong to something bigger anymore. They’re not the ones marching alongside famous civil rights leaders of the past. They’re just alone, by themselves, contributing nothing of value.

For many people, that’s just untenable. I would go so far as to say it’s almost as untenable as crippling boredom. Even self-proclaimed introverts and ardent individualists, we seek an identity and a constant source of stimulation. When we lack one or both, we lack a core element of any social species. In the same way we’re driven to meet the rest of our basic needs, we’ll be driven to find that somewhere, no matter how misguided.

In the past, we might have found that sense of belonging and purpose through our small communities or organized religion. Today, the world is much bigger and more diverse, thanks to technology and civilization. Organized religion is also not effective anymore due to factors too numerous to list. People are still going to seek belonging.

It’s somewhat ironic that civilization has advanced to such a degree that there aren’t as many clear-cut, good versus evil movements to be part of anymore. However, there’s still this longing to be the hero of our own story and be part of something greater, even if it means actually going out of their way to feel outraged.

Getting back to the initial question I posed, I think the influence of boredom and belonging are inherently linked. We agonize over escaping boredom and over having a sense of belonging. We can’t get that same rush our ancestors felt when surviving bear attacks and hunger so we’ll settle for whining about protests during football games. It’s still annoyingly petty, but distressingly understandable.

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Link

The following is a review I write for PopMatters.com for “Phoenix Resurrection: The Return Of Jean Grey #5.” I know I discussed this story already in a previous post about romance and tragedy, but I thought I’d post this here for anyone interested in a more comprehensive review of the issue itself.

Patience Is Rewarded in ‘Phoenix Resurrection: The Return of Jean Grey #5’

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February 11, 2018 · 8:47 pm
February 11, 2018 · 8:13 am

Sexy Sunday Thoughts: Tropical Longing Edition

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It’s early February and in addition to me lamenting another Valentine’s Day spent alone, this is also the time of year when I sincerely wish I lived in a more tropical climate. I actually have a few friends and relatives who live in Florida and never have to wear more than a light sweatshirt when they go outside. They just love rubbing that in my face every chance they get.

While that sort of sentiment is annoying, it still inspires me to long for warmer, sexier climate. It also inspires me to start planning my vacations for the spring and summer. I made a big deal out of the wonderful time I had at the beach last year. I intend to risk more sun burn and do it again.

Unfortunately, I still have to make it through a few more weeks of winter. If the forecast from this year’s Groundhog Day is any indication, then it’s going to be a longer wait than usual. That’s just going to give my friends and relatives more reasons to rub their tropical lifestyle in my face.

I can’t do much about the weather, but I can make the wait easier. In my experience, few things warm the body and soul up better than some sexy musings. That’s why I’m dedicating this week’s edition of my Sexy Sunday Thoughts to all those longing for time in a tropical climate. Trust me, you’re not alone in this sentiment.

“Men can never compete sexually with experienced lesbians because fingers and tongues don’t get flaccid.”

“A man has no idea how much he hates his own gender until he has a hot daughter.”

“Being able to cook doesn’t inherently make a person sexier, but great sex rarely occur on an empty stomach.”

“Sharing is caring, but humping is more rewarding.”

“The dedication of a lover is directly proportional to how willing they are to be in the same room when you’re throwing up.”

“Having a toned ass is like having a powerful engine. You rarely need that kind of power, but you like to know you can use it at some point.”

“Is it possible that some sluts are just being extra thorough in vetting their options?”

These sorts of sexy sentiments may not deliver the same feeling we get when we lay on a tropical beach under the warm mid-day sun, but I hope it reminds us why those feelings are so special. I’m already done with cold weather. I still hope to spend time in a tropical setting at some point this year. I encourage everyone else to do so and enjoy all the sexy thoughts that come with it.

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February 10, 2018 · 8:02 am

Do Soul Mates Actually Mates Exist?

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When it comes to love, romance, and whatever else manifests in every song a boy band ever sang, the ultimate manifestation of this beautifully sentimental phenomenon is the soul mate. We’ve probably all heard about it in some form. Some are even lucky enough to be with someone that they consider to be their soul mate. Regardless of whether or not you care for the concept, we envy those people.

As a long-time romance fan and an aspiring erotica/romance writer, the ideal of the soul mate is the alpha and omega of the concept. It is to romance what Superman is to modern superheroes. It is the ideal to which we aspire. It embodies the ultimate example of what true love is and what we want it to be.

I’m not going to lie. That sort of thing makes parts of me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, among other things. Most people who enjoy romance to some degree probably feel the same way. The idea that two people have a love so strong that it’s practically interwoven into the fabric of time, space, and the basic laws of reality just feels so special.

It makes for both a great fantasy, full of more romance and passion than most can ever manage without seeing “Titanic” fifteen times in a row. It’s the kind of love that makes romances like Jack and Rose, Romeo and Juliet, and even Superman and Lois Lane seem ordained by destiny.

Now, here’s where I kind of have to put a dent in the time-honored fantasy. I know that’s kind of dangerous for a self-proclaimed romance fan, but I’m going to do it anyway because I think it’s a discussion worth having. It’s a discussion based on a simple question.

Do soul mates actually exist?

I know that me asking that after I just said it makes parts of me gush sounds like an about-face. I promise there’s a context to it and one that ties directly into how we go about answering this question. Whether or not you’re a romance fan, the ideal of the soul mate and our inherent drive to seek love makes it an important question to ask.

Before I give my answer, I need to add a few caveats to my fondness for the concept. Yes, it does resonate with me, somewhat, as an overall romance fan. However, as a fan of compelling stories and an aspiring writer, I actually don’t really care for stories built around the idea of soul mates.

Don’t get me wrong. I still think it’s a sweet concept. When I was younger and just starting to explore romance, I really liked those stories. As I got older, though, and my tastes in stories evolved, that appeal quickly waned. Whenever I read a book or saw a movie that ran with the concept of soul mates, it became somewhat of a turn-off.

That’s because from a narrative perspective, soul mates make for bland and shallow stories. If a couple are established as soul mates, then that basically renders any need to work or nurture their love moot. They don’t have to put in the time, work, or effort to become a great couple. Destiny and whatever supernatural forces behind their bond do that for them.

This is why I don’t care much for “Romeo and Juliet.” It’s established from the beginning that they’re “star-crossed lovers,” which is basically a more Shakespearean way of fate had ordained for these two to fall in love and there’s nothing anyone or anything can do to prevent it. Sure, it’s sweet and dramatic, but it’s a very limited story.

Those same limits that undermine a story are a major factor in answering the question. For someone like me, who follows romantic plots and sub-plots way closer than most straight men will ever admit, it shapes my perspective on what makes a great love story and what makes a real or fictional relationship strong.

Within that context, I’ll give my answer to the question. I don’t claim that this answer is definitive. This is just my opinion, having formed it from years and years of both consuming and crafting all things romance.

No. I don’t believe that soul mates are real.

I’m sure that’s tantamount to blasphemy for other romance fans out there. I understand that sentiment and I gladly accept the scorn that comes with that answer. However, I am willing to justify my answer.

It’s not just because I regularly write about the inherent flaws in the human brain, which make the prospect of achieving any ideal, be it perfect love or perfect justice, impossible by default. I think the concept, as a whole, does not fit with the whole process of love, at least as I see it.

Whether it’s love in the real world or love in sexy novels, falling in love and being in love is an ongoing phenomenon. It takes many forms and plays out in many ways, sometimes chaotically and sometimes dramatically. That’s part of what makes it such an appealing narrative.

Some of the best manifestations of that process, which I’ve gone out of my way to highlight, occur when two people work together to build and strengthen their love. They work together. They fight together. Sometimes they even clash, along the way. There’s never an endgame in mind. Their love is something that builds and evolves day-by-day.

In the real world, we see that play out in the work people put into their relationships. Whether it’s scheduling a sex night or going on some romantic getaway to Fiji, people in love put work into that love. It’s not something that just happens. For that feeling to remain strong, it takes time, effort, and understanding.

With soul mates, there’s no process to love. It just happens. The universe basically commands it. There’s no reason to put any work into it because those involved are so made for each other that they couldn’t drive each other apart if they tried. That kind of love doesn’t just rely on supernatural forces. It relies on two people’s thoughts, feelings, and desires being perfectly compatible every second of every day until the end of time.

Given the chaotic nature of the human mind, that’s just not realistic. It’s not even that romantic, when you think about it. I don’t deny that there are particular moments, such as a wedding day or the first time a couple makes love, where they’ll feel in that moment that they are soul mates. I don’t deny that feeling exists. As for the larger concept, as a whole, I think that’s about as real as Superman holding a black hole in his hand.

So I guess my answer does have a bit of a caveat. I do believe there are moments when two people are so in sync, emotionally and romantically, that they fit the mold of soul mates. Those same people can go onto break up, get divorced, or cheat on each other. That’s just the chaotic, unceasing nature of human passions.

Again, my answer to this question is anything but definitive. Perhaps there are other romance fans out there who believe I’m dead wrong and that soul mates do exist. If you feel that way, I’d be happy to discuss that issue in greater detail. For now, I simply ask that all those reading this contemplate that question and answer it for themselves.

Even if you’re not big on romance, it’s a question worth answering. It reflects both our sentiments and our aspirations when it comes to seeking love. As someone who is currently single, writes sexy stories, hopes to fall in love one day, I imagine I’ll continue contemplating this question for years to come.

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February 9, 2018 · 5:46 am

Natural Contraceptive App Blamed For Unplanned Pregnancies (As Expected)

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There’s no question that advances in contraception have had a profound impact on our society. Some applaud it. Some resent it. Either way, there’s no uninventing it. Contraception, be it male or female, is a big part of our society and further advances promise to have an even bigger impact.

I’ve talked about the future of contraception before, as well as the potential impacts of those advances. There are a lot of things in development, as I write this, that men and women alike should get excited about. Between better IUDs and more birth control options for men, we’re quickly entering an age where we have unprecedented control over our fertility.

It’s for that very reason that it’s necessary to take a step back and remind ourselves of the existing flaws we have with the current state of contraception. There’s a reason why those advances I mentioned are in development to begin with. What we have now is pretty good, relative to older, more archaic forms of birth control. However, there are a few shortcomings that tend to lead to dramatic, albeit predictable failures.

One of those shortcomings/failures made the news recently and left several dozen women very disappointed, to say the least. According to a story from TheVerge, a recently-developed contraceptive app called Natural Cycles is being blamed for 37 unwanted pregnancies. Anyone who knows anything about pregnancy, female biology, and nature in general probably isn’t surprised.

That’s because the app in question basically made something like this inevitable. According to the article, the Natural Cycles app is supposed to help women who rely on more natural family planning methods. In terms of the actual process, these are the basics:

The app uses an algorithm and measures factors like temperature to determine the period when a woman may be fertile. It’s a popular alternative to hormonal contraceptives like the pill because it lacks side effects.

It’s pretty basic, but the principle makes sense on paper and isn’t based on radically new ideas. The concept of a woman tracking her fertility to determine the times of month when she’s most likely to conceive a child is fairly well-known. It’s most commonly called the “Rhythm Method” and according to the Mayo Clinic, it takes a lot of preparation.

To use this method, a woman needs actively track her menstrual cycle, accurately determine the parts of that cycle where she’s most fertile, and plan her sexual activity around those time-frames. It takes a great deal of physical awareness, as well as a certain measure of discipline, which some people are better at than others.

The Natural Cycles app is supposed to supplement those principles by aiding in that tracking process. It even tries to provide the woman with more data so that she has a better understanding of her body while tracking her cycle. In theory, having perfect knowledge of her biology will ensure a woman knows when she is or isn’t fertile.

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It’s that exact theory, however, that makes this news about a surge in unplanned pregnancies so unsurprising. There’s a good reason why this sort of approach to contraception is rarely practiced by anyone other than committed couples and is often discouraged as a general form of contraception.

As with so many other theories, the actual practice of the method doesn’t always work in the real world. That’s because the real world is a lot more chaotic, varied, and unpredictable than concepts on a piece of paper. That applies even more to human biology, male and female.

Now, the appeal of natural family planning like the one Natural Cycles promotes is undeniable. You don’t need to take a pill. You don’t need to have something inserted into your body. Plus, it gives you a chance to really know and understand the workings of your body. For both sexual health and general health, that’s has many benefits.

Unfortunately, the human body is not known for being that transparent. It does not come equipped with a USB port or a wireless interface that provides us with accurate, real-time data about our insides, although that’s one advancement science is working on. Absent that data, natural family planning, even with the aid of Natural Cycles, is going to be either incomplete or flawed.

I don’t doubt that the use of Natural Cycles helps in the process, but there’s a good reason why the same Mayo Clinic that so thoroughly lays out the process of natural family planning also identifies it as one of the least reliable forms of contraception. This is what they had to say about the risks associated with this method.

Using the rhythm method as a form of birth control doesn’t pose any direct risks. However, it’s considered one of the least effective forms of birth control. How well the rhythm method works varies between couples. In general, as many as 24 out of 100 women who use natural family planning for birth control become pregnant the first year. Also, the rhythm method doesn’t protect you from sexually transmitted infections.

Given this information, the fact that some of those using the Natural Cycles app ended up pregnant should surprise no one. The shortcomings of natural family planning are well known and, for the moment, no app is capable of circumventing those shortcomings.

It’s not just that even the most basic activities of the human body are so difficult to quantify and track. Doing so and trying to plan around it assumes all those involved behave with perfect discipline. While I still believe that most human beings are inherently good at heart, I don’t doubt that human beings can also be erratic, irrational, and just plain stupid at times.

There will be moments when a woman misjudges or mistimes her fertility over the course of her cycle. There will also be moments when the passions between a woman and her lover will override whatever discipline they had promised to exercise during that time of the month. Even when people aren’t stupid, they can be overwhelmed by a moment.

That’s the ultimate flaw of natural planning and apps like Natural Cycles. It’s not just prone to human error. It relies on the absence of human error in order to work perfectly. That’s not just flaw. Those are unreasonable expectations that no population of healthy human beings can hope to meet.

It’s sad that several dozen women had to learn this the hard way, even if the outcome was fairly predictable. If nothing else, it should remind us just how much work we need to do on improving contraception, women’s health, and our overall understanding of our biology.

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February 8, 2018 · 5:41 am

Why Men And Women Cheat (And Lessons To Learn From It)

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As an unapologetic romance fan, I concede that I often talk about love the same way dog lovers talk about puppies. I go on and on about how wonderful it is, but often gloss over the nasty parts. In the same way those dog lovers don’t dwell on all the times their beloved companion shits on the rug, I don’t dwell on the more painful aspect of romance.

Well, in the same way ignoring the pile of dog poop doesn’t make the stench go away, ignoring those painful elements of romance doesn’t make them any less relevant. Even those who aren’t romance fans understand that romance often involves tragedy. It’s no coincidence that some of the most famous love stories, from “Romeo and Juliet” to “Titanic,” involve a hefty bit of heartache.

I would argue that’s exactly what makes love and stories about romance so powerful. There’s a significant risk of heartache, rejection, and loss. There’s real pain that comes with pursuing romance, but the we gladly risk that pain because the rewards can be as fulfilling as they are sexy. I’ve done more to highlight the breadth of those rewards in my novels, especially with stories like “Passion Relapse.”

However, the pain that comes from the other side of that coin can be just as dramatic, if not more so. Anyone who has ever seen old episodes of “Jerry Springer” understands this to some extent. It’s not usually the kind of drama that ends with two lovers dying in each other’s arms or Rose not making room for Jack on that floating plank. More often than not, it’s a more frustrating kind of drama.

In many respects, the unsexiest version of this drama has to do with cheating. To some, that’s the much more dreaded C-word. Cheating is to romance what food poisoning is to Thanksgiving dinner. It is the worst-case scenario for those seeking the joys and appeals associated with romance. It is also one of those unfortunate elements that plays out in real life more often than it does in sexy romance novels.

It’s unromantic, but inescapable. Cheating happens and it happens a lot. While it doesn’t happen as often as “Jerry Springer” might have us believe, it happens often enough that it’s a legitimate concern among lovers. That’s why modern marriage laws, however skewed they might be, often account for infidelity.

In the same way there has never been a drug-free society, there has never been a society where cheating and infidelity has not occurred to some extent. From our caveman ancestors to the increasingly-uptight Millennials, the risk of cheating is there and the rise of social media and online dating sites like Ashley Madison are only making it easier.

I’ve talked a bit about cheating when I’ve discussed jealousy and our approach to marriage in modern society. Within the context of those discussions, cheating is a significant portion of those issues, but it’s still only part of a larger whole. It’s still a significant stain on the pursuit of romance, but it doesn’t completely overshadow it.

To make sense of it, as difficult as that may be, it’s necessary to focus on the reasons why people cheat. To anyone who has ever been the victim of a cheating lover, that may mean poking at old wounds and for that, I apologize. I admit it’s somewhat underhanded to suggest there are reasons why people cheat instead of just excuses, but to make sense of cheating overall, we need to accept that there are reasons behind it.

Listen to any story about cheating, be it a magazine article or a poorly-directed reality show, and you’ll notice a few themes about cheating. For one, there is a gender disparity in the numbers. Statistically speaking, men do cheat more often than women. However, the difference in those numbers isn’t quite as vast as the “Mad Men” stereotypes would have us believe.

As to why the gender disparity exists, there are just as many theories about that as well. I’ve talked somewhat about those disparities in discussions about sexual promiscuity and gender double standards. However, those theories don’t always explain the reasons behind cheating. In fact, the process for gathering data on cheating is exceedingly tricky.

Absent an underlying theory, we’re left with a diverse list of reasons that men and women give for their infidelity. According to WebMD, men and women cheat in different ways. For men, it’s often physical, a method of meeting unmet needs. For whatever reason, they’re no longer satisfied with their spouse and cheating is either a way to meet those needs or escape from that spouse.

For women, the act of cheating often has more emotional connotations. While meeting a physical need is part of it, women are more inclined to seek an emotional connection when they cheat. That’s not to say that some women just want some sexual variety or some men don’t fall in love with those they’re cheating with, but these are the popular narratives and some of it does bear out in the data.

Like I said earlier, though, the disparity in that data is not exceedingly vast and there are a lot of issues associated with gathering that data in the first place. If you accept the rule of the great Dr. House, “The most successful marriages are based on lies,” then it’s almost impossible to ascertain just how much cheating is going on and why it’s happening.

Even if it’s impossible to know, there are lessons we can learn from the reasons and excuses that people give. Chief among the reasons men give for cheating involve seeking new intimate experiences, either out of dissatisfaction or boredom. Given how I’ve explored the impact of boredom before, I think that is likely a bigger factor than most care to admit.

With women, the reasons often involve a lack of satisfaction that goes beyond physical. It’s not just that they feel unsatisfied. The underlying theme often involves their sentiment that their partner is no longer putting in the kind of effort they did when they fell in love. That lack of effort gives the impression that they don’t care anymore, leading women to seek out someone who does care.

In scrutinizing these reasons that vary widely between gender, cultures, and personality types, there does appear to be one common theme that binds both genders when it comes to cheating. Whether it’s physical or emotional, it often comes down to the perception that someone in the relationship isn’t putting in the effort anymore. Either they don’t have the energy or just don’t care enough.

In either case, the context of the cheating seems less about meeting a need and more about finding someone who will match your passionate efforts. Regardless of whatever gender disparity may or may not be at work with cheating, there’s no denying that men and women are passionate creatures. We each seek outlets for our passion and if we’re not getting it from that outlet, we’re going to seek another.

That’s not to say that some who cheat are just looking for an exciting and novel experience. That’s another inclination that is hard-wired into both genders in ways that go beyond sex, romance, or fidelity. When it comes specifically to cheating, though, the primary catalyst often comes back to passion and how it’s being channeled.

Cheating and being cheated on often comes with many hard lessons, some of which leave deeper scars than others. Whether you’re a romantic like me, a jaded heart with cynical views on love, or believe that human beings aren’t meant to just love one person for the rest of their lives, the betrayal and dishonesty associated with cheating still hurts us. If nothing else, it’s a harsh reminder of how deep our passions run.

If there’s a lesson that both genders can and should learn from the pain of cheating, it’s the importance of understanding and channeling those passions. When two people share the kind of passion that keeps their love, sex, and relationship strong, then there’s no reason for either of them to cheat. It’s not easy sharing that kind of passion, but the fact we risk the pain of being cheated on shows it’s a risk worth taking.

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February 7, 2018 · 5:41 am

The Mixed (And Misguided) Messages Of All-Female Movie Remakes

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There are some topics that I really want to comment on, but the rhetoric surrounding it are so hostile and so controversial that I feel like any comment I make will put way too big a target on my back. Keep in mind, this is coming from someone who has talked about issues like abortion, religious extremism, and Wonder Woman’s BDSM origins.

In general, if I want to contribute to the conversation, I try to wait until the heat dies down and the Twitter bans subside. Sometimes, that takes a long time, so much so that I’m tempted to just drop the issue altogether. For this one, though, I think there’s no use waiting because it’s a trend now and the controversies associated with it are here to stay.

It seems so long ago now, but when I first heard that there would be a new “Ghostbusters” movie with an all-female cast, I was genuinely intrigued. I was not among those who thought this was the worst idea ever and that this was somehow ruining my childhood, as some upset fans had claimed.

Maybe it’s because I’m not as big a Ghostbusters fan as I am an X-men fan, but I didn’t mind the novel/gimmicky approach that director Paul Feig attempted. The long-rumored Ghostbusters 3 wasn’t happening. The original cast couldn’t get it off the ground and Bill “Peter Venkman” Murray had made clear that he had no interest in reprising his role. Why not try something different to reinvigorate the franchise?

It could’ve been a bold new approach to Ghostbusters. A fresh take, a new cast, and an infusion of female-centered star power could’ve really kick-started a whole new trend, one that both elevated long-dormant franchises and expanded the role of female characters, a trend that had already begun.

Then, the trailer came out and those possibilities became much more remote. While I, personally, didn’t despise it, I was considerably less intrigued. The fact that the trailer went onto become the most disliked trailer in the history of YouTube speaks volumes for how poorly this otherwise-novel concept came off.

I had originally intended to see the movie when it came out. Then, as new clips came out and I got a sense of how the story would unfold, I decided not to. When it finally came out on cable, I tried watching it. I ended up changing the channel. It’s not that I hated the movie. It just had none of the appeal I’d hoped.

I know that’s somewhat petty considering the many controversies the movie generated, complete with sexism, racism, and everything else that sets the internet ablaze these days. As soon as professional trolls like Milo Yiannopoulos got involved, I saw that as a sign that this was one of those controversies that would transcend movies for all the wrong reasons.

I don’t know if enough time has passed for the animosity to settle, but in reflecting on the controversies of “Ghostbusters,” I feel the time is right to confront it. Regardless of whether it succeeded or failed, it effectively kick-started the idea of all-female remakes. That’s an idea that I think still has merit, but the approach and overall message of “Ghostbusters” make clear that the Hollywood still hasn’t figured it out.

In a sense, the problem with “Ghostbusters” is similar to the ongoing problems with strong female characters in general. From the parts I saw, the approach to that movie was shallow and crass in that it painted nearly every male supporting character a bumbling idiot in need of female guidance. This was especially true of Kevin, the dim-witted secretary played by Chris Hemsworth.

I get that some of that approach was an effort to inject the kind of humor that made the original Ghostbusters so funny and memorable, but it really fell flat, almost to an insulting degree. It reinforced the notion men somehow need to be denigrated or taken down a peg for female characters to be strong.

While it didn’t offend me, personally, it certainly undermined the story. A world full of idiot men isn’t that bad. That’s a huge part of the appeal for shows like “The Simpsons” and “Family Guy.” However, that kind of appeal doesn’t fit with that of Ghostbusters.

Beyond just making all the men seem like idiots, the way in which the all-female cast brought little nuance to their roles. They were just four women pasted into four roles previously played by men. That’s it. They brought nothing new to the table. I say that as someone who really likes Melissa McCarthy and Leslie Jones, but I know they’re capable of far more than they gave in this movie.

If the intent was to show that women could work these roles just as well as men, then that’s the wrong goal, especially for a franchise as beloved as Ghostbusters. That effort denigrates both men and women because it doesn’t send the message that they’re equals. It sends the message that they’re interchangeable, disposable, and not the least bit unique.

The original cast of Ghostbusters had unique, quirky personalities that were memorable and iconic. The all-female cast had some of that, especially Leslie Jones’ character, but not nearly enough. Too much of it was built around the persona these actresses had already established in other roles. They really didn’t do anything to set themselves apart other than fill a role once held by a man.

That can’t be the only thing an all-female cast brings to the table. Just being women cannot and should not be enough to carry a story or revitalize a franchise. It’s true that men and women have various character archetypes, some of which are more distinct than others, but there has to be room for innovation.

Great female characters like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Rey from “Star Wars,” or Sarah Conner from “The Terminator,” do a lot more than just do things men usually do while being women. They’re allowed to exercise their feminine traits every now and then. The all-female cast of Ghostbusters never got that chance. They tried too hard to be like the originals and it just didn’t work.

I won’t say that “Ghostbusters” utterly ruined the concept of remaking movies with an all-female casts. The movie wasn’t that bad. It just didn’t do nearly enough to make it really good. It didn’t kill a genre like “Batman and Robin” almost did with superhero movies. It does count as a setback, though.

It’s one I hope Hollywood learns from because, at the moment, there are similar movies in development. The latest, which I admit I’m also intrigued by, is “Ocean’s 8.” Unlike “Ghostbusters,” it’s not a complete remake and it doesn’t try to replace the entire cast of “Ocean’s Eleven.” It’s following a similar narrative, but using an all-female cast to tell the story.

While this franchise isn’t as iconic as “Ghostbusters,” it’s still bound to cause plenty of controversy and heated debates on sexism. However, based on the trailer, I’m intrigued once more. I know that burned me last time, but I’m still willing to give it a chance.

I still believe that all-female casts, even for non-remakes of major movie franchises, have great potential. Women do make up half the population, last I checked. They have plenty of stories to tell. If “Ocean’s 8” can succeed where “Ghostbusters” failed, then that can revitalize the concept. As Hollywood has shown before, it only needs to work once to start a trend.

I believe the concept will succeed once these movies stop trying to troll certain audiences and focus on building new perspectives within a story. The perspective of women is supposed to complement that of men, not subvert it. If a movie can succeed in that, then it can truly appeal to everyone.

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February 6, 2018 · 5:35 am

“Love Like Champions” A Sexy Short Story (About Super Bowl LII)

The following is a short, sexy story that was directly inspired by the outcome of Super Bowl LII and some of the passionate Eagles fans that I know personally. Enjoy!

“This game, Darla…this fucking game,” said Adam Mayfield, sounding more stressed than any man in his mid-30s should.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve said that, Adam,” Darla groaned, who’d stopped trying to calm him down.

“You’ve been keeping track?”

“What else is there to do when we’re out of buffalo wings and cheese dip?”

“I’m sorry, damn it!” he said. “It’s just…I had this same feeling 13 years ago the last time the Eagles played the Pats in the Super Bowl. That did not turn out well.”

“No need to remind me,” said Darla. “I remember…more than you know.”

He probably didn’t hear that last part. He was too caught up in the spectacle that was Super Bowl LII. Darla had anticipated a stressful night since the Eagles topped the Vikings two weeks ago. She and her long-time boyfriend, Adam, were as big an Eagles fan as they came. Them being in the Super Bowl was a test of heart, in more ways than one.

Unlike Adam, Darla hadn’t been born in Philadelphia. She’d moved there from Scranton about 15 years ago, following her father and uncle, who helped her get a job at a mortgage company. Being from a family with three brothers, each being big football fans themselves, she thought she knew what it meant to be a fan when she embraced the Eagles as her home team. Adam proved her wrong.

“How can I love a team so much, but be so frustrated by them?” Darla groaned.

She made it a point to say that out loud, hoping her lover would get the message. Either he was ignoring her or he’d tuned everything out. She was inclined to believe the latter, but Darla could never be sure. Adam was such a passionate man. That was a big reason why she fell in love with him. The frustrating part was how he channeled it during football season.

Adam came from a long line of Eagles fans. He’d been born in Philadelphia. His parents, grandparents, and siblings were all passionate about their team. During every game in every season, they wore their heart on their sleeve, cheering and lamenting their team through every win and every loss.

Darla thought she could handle cheering with them. She learned early on that Adam and his family were on a whole other level. It showed in how elated they were when the Eagles won and how miserable they were when the Eagles lost. However, even though she’d been with Adam for over a decade, she’d never seen him react to a Super Bowl loss. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“I may have to take a trip to Baltimore tomorrow,” she muttered.

As much as Darla wanted to convey her sentiment to Adam, she too had an investment in the game. She didn’t want to see her team lose either. She was sick of getting crap from the Cowboys, Steelers, and 49er fans in her family, whose teams had multiple rings while hers had none. That had to change at some point, but she preferred it changed tonight.

“It’s not enough of a lead,” Adam said, his hands clasped together as though he were praying to the football gods. “38 to 33 with more than two minutes left and Tom fucking Brady at quarterback? If the Falcons couldn’t hold on with a 25-point lead last year, for crying out loud!”

“These aren’t the Falcons, babe. These are the Eagles,” Darla reminded him. “This is our team.”

“I know. That’s what scares me even more.”

His pessimism was annoying, but usually right. There was a reason why the Eagles had never won a Super Bowl. They had a tendency to choke in these exact situations whereas the Patriots seemed to thrive.

Darla stayed on her side of the couch, almost not wanting to watch Brady pull off another late-game miracle at the expense of her favorite team. She couldn’t turn away, though. She kept watching.

It felt like her stomach was up in her throat. She noticed Adam anxiously tapping his feet, something he only did when he was extremely nervous. The last time she saw that kind of nervousness, he asked her to move in with him. She could only imagine the kind of tension he felt now.

It was second and two from the 33. The Patriots offense had over two minutes left, a timeout, and the greatest quarterback of all time being coached by one of the greatest coaches of all time. It seemed like the story had already been written. Brady would drive the Patriots down the field, score the game-winning touchdown, and go home as a six-time Super Bowl champion while the Eagles remained winless in the big game.

“Please, just get it over with,” Adam groaned. “My heart can only take so much of this shit.”

“They’ll find a way,” said Darla, trying to will the fates in her team’s favor. “They have to!”

They watched on. The ball was snapped. Then, it happened.

“FUMBLE!” Adam shouted, shooting up from the couch as though he’d been struck by lightning.

“THEY GOT IT! EAGLES BALL!” Darla said, shouting as well.

In an instant, the mood shifted from dread to elation. She shot up and embraced her boyfriend and cheered at the sudden turn of events. She could even hear the cheers outside. All of downtown Philadelphia must have seen what they just saw. The Eagles had just forced a fumble and recovered the ball. The sight of Tom Brady, the so-called greatest of all time, sitting there on the turf in defeat was just too satisfying.

“It’s really happening. They might really do it!” Darla cheered, still clinging to her boyfriend.

“I know! It’s not over yet, but they’re close!” Adam exclaimed. “They’re so goddamn close this time!”

“Then, you better hold onto me, babe. I’m still not sure this is real.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting go until the last tic on the clock!”

It might have been superstition. It might have been the sheer weight of the moment. Whatever the reason, she and Adam clung to one another, still trembling with excitement at the prospect of their team finally winning the Super Bowl. If that moment finally came, it had to happen when they were in each other’s arms. It just had to be that way.

Her heart still racing and her passions still in overdrive, she and Adam sat back down on the couch. He grasped her hand firmly while she clung to his favorite Eagles jersey, which he wore for every game. They watched as the Eagles did the most they could with the ball.

They ran it three times, taking as much time off the clock as possible. They couldn’t get a first down, but they still managed a field goal, putting them up 41 to 33. There was still a minute left. Even with no timeouts, it was still the New England Patriots. It was still Tom Brady at quarterback.

“41 to 33,” Darla said, holding her lover a bit closer. “That’s going to be the final score.”

“I hope you’re right, Darla. I really do,” Adam said, still affected by the Eagles’ history of disappointment.

“It’ll happen. I know it will. You’ll see!”

She made it sound as though she’d already seen the final score. Darla learned early on in her time as an Eagles fan that victory was never secure. However, she refused to give into the dread this time. She was certain her team would win.

The next minute might have been the longest in the history of sports. The Patriots got the kickoff. They messed up on a few plays, but managed to move the ball to midfield. With each yard they gained, she felt Adam tremble a bit more, doubt and dread creeping into him with every play. She held him a little closer, as if to protect him from it. She wanted him to believe as strongly as she did.

Finally, it all came down to one play. With 9 seconds left and no timeouts, it was down to a final Hail Mary to the end zone.

“This is it,” Darla told him. “This is the last play of the game.”

“Please, be right,” Adam said. “I want you to be right…so much.”

“I know.”

“No…I don’t think you do.”

Darla cast her lover a strange glance, but didn’t have time to scrutinize it. The play was about to go off. As soon as the Patriots snapped the ball, time seemed to move in slow-motion.

For a moment, it looked like Brady would get sacked. She sensed Adam wanting to shoot up and cheer. That didn’t happen, though. He managed to escape, as he always did, and got the throw off. At that moment, Darla almost felt her heart crack again.

“Not this time,” she said in defiance.

She and Adam watched, like a couple of deer looking at an oncoming train. The ball hung up in the air for an eternity. The game clock now read zero. It all came down to this.

Finally, in an instant, it actually happened. The ball hit the ground. The pass was incomplete. The game was over and the Philadelphia Eagles were Super Bowl champions.

“YES! THEY DID IT! THEY REALLY FUCKING DID IT!” Adam exclaimed.

“THEY WON! OH MY GOD! THE EAGLES WON!” Darla exclaimed.

In a moment of pure, unadulterated elation, Darla and Adam cheered with the rest of Philadelphia. They jumped up from the couch and hugged, as though they’d just won the lottery. Earlier that year, winning the lottery seemed more likely than seeing the Eagles win their first ever Super Bowl. After only knowing disappointment for so long, Eagles fans like her and Adam could finally say that they won.

They kept wildly hugging each other and cheering, watching as the confetti fell on their favorite team. They didn’t care that they knocked over some empty beer bottles and crumbled up bags of chips. Their team had won. For once, she and Adam knew what it felt like for their favorite team to be a Super Bowl champion.

At one point after all the cheering, they settled down enough to face each other. Adam hadn’t let go of her since before the fumble. She hadn’t let go of him either, still clinging to his favorite jersey. Now, in this moment of pure elation, they looked at each other with a sense of both shock and triumph.

“You were right, babe. You were right,” Adam said.

“Yeah, I guess I was,” Darla said with a smug grin.

“You really have no idea how much I wanted the Eagles to win this…to finally see them win a championship.”

“You don’t need to tell me. I know you’re a bigger Eagles fan than I’ll ever be, Adam. You deserve to run down Broad Street and cheer with other fans like you.”

“See, that’s just it,” he said in a more serious tone. “I wasn’t planning on doing that. My buddies at the office all had elaborate plans for how they would celebrate if they won, but I wanted no part of it. I knew if this actually happened…if the Eagles actually won…this is where I’d want to be.”

Darla’s heart skipped a beat. Adam had that look in his eye, the kind she saw when he wanted to get extra romantic with her. She hadn’t expected to see that tonight, even if the Eagles won. During football season, she’d always been content to let him cheer victor or mourn defeat in his own way. It was an unspoken rule, of sorts, that they stayed out of each other’s way when that happened.

However, there was something different about this and not just because the Eagles had won the Super Bowl. That same passion that Adam usually channeled into every Eagles game was now solely focused on her.

“Darla, I know I’m not the easiest guy to love. Hell, I’m not even the top 50,” he told her.

“Adam, I know you get worked up after Eagles games,” Darla said. “Are you really sure you want talk to me like this after the biggest game in Eagles history?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Adam said without hesitation. “We’ve been together for 13 years now. In that time, we’ve built a great life together…one that often revolves around rooting for the Eagles. I know I don’t say it enough and I doubt I’ll ever have the mind to say it again, but I’ve treasured every moment of that life…from the worst loses to this amazing win.”

Now, Darla’s hard raced even more than it had before the fumble. This couldn’t possibly be what it sounded like. She and Adam had already discussed it on more than one occasion. They were boyfriend and girlfriend. They had made that relationship work for over a decade. She thought that was how it had to be. Darla had made peace with that long ago.

However, when she saw Adam get down on one knee, hold her hand in his, and look up at her as though she were the Lombardi Trophy, it began to sank in. A Super Bowl parade wouldn’t be the only celebration tonight.

“Darla Mason,” Adam said, “when we met 13 years ago, I was at the lowest possible point. The Eagles had just lost the Super Bowl. I had no job, too much student debt, and a bad history of dating women who couldn’t put up with me. You changed that. You came along when I was at my lowest, stuck with me when you could’ve walked away, and loved me more than I ever deserved.”

“Adam…you’re making me feel like the Super Bowl MVP, here,” Darla said, her heart ready to burst.

“Now, here we are…13 years later, watching the same Philadelphia Eagles beat the New England Patriots. We’ve gone from one devastating lost to the most exhilarating victory possible. I say, let’s make it our own personal dynasty! Merry me, Darla. Merry me and let’s fly together like a couple of Eagles!”

Darla didn’t think it was possible for something to sound so corny, yet so heartfelt. Adam had to have rehearsed it ways for weeks on end, possibly since the Eagles clinched a playoff spot. The Eagles win the Super Bowl. He proposes to her. Given how they came together after they lost 13 years ago, it seemed so fitting. That made her response just as obvious.

“Yes!” Darla said eagerly. “Yes, Adam…I will marry you.”

“God, I love you, Darla.”

“I love you too, my future husband. Now, shut up and kiss me like a champion!”

Adam didn’t need a trophy or a call from the President to heed her desire. He shot up from the floor, threw his arms around her, and embraced her passionately as they came together in a deep kiss.

It still took a moment to sink in, both the Eagles being Super Bowl champions and her being engaged now. It was a hell of a feeling, a bigger rush than anything she’d felt before in her life. The sound of rowdy Eagles fans cheering outside could be heard. She imagined there would be a hell of a party down Broad Street for the rest of the night. They could enjoy that party. She intended to have one of her own with Adam.

As they kissed and hugged, the sound and images of the Eagles’ victory playing out on the TV, Darla felt those same passions that she and Adam channeled so strongly take a new form. They were champions. They were engaged. They were in love. With so much excitement and elation surrounding them, there was only one other way this night could be more perfect.

“Adam,” Darla said breathlessly as their lips briefly parted.

“Yes, my future wife?” he said playfully.

“Do me,” she told him. “Right here…in the living room…with the Eagles accepting the Lombardi trophy!”

Adam’s reaction to those intense, seductive words were priceless. Still awash in the thrill of victory, he had the look of a man who could slay a dragon for his woman. It was more than enough to set the tone for how they would celebrate their team’s victory.

“Darla, if you could be any sexier without wearing an Eagles cheerleader costume,” he told her.

“You want me to go find a costume? Or do you want to get naked right now and make love like a champion?”

“Well, I was going to call my folks and share the news first, but…”

His words trailed off as his desires took over. He kissed her again, this time with the passion of a champion. Darla kissed back, eager to match that same championship-caliber energy. For such a powerful moment that had been 13 years in the making, nothing less was acceptable.

Like a couple of pros, they went to work undressing each other. Adam pulled her favorite Eagles sweatshirt up over her head while she undid his jeans. Then, in a show of strength that would’ve impressed any starting offensive lineman, he lifted her up in his arms and laid her down on the couch.

Shortly after she fell atop the soft cushions, he took off his pants and underwear, followed quickly by his shirt. Whether by the thrill of victory or the passion of having proposed to his lover, he already bore a rock-hard erection. He looked so strong and powerful under the glow of an Eagles’ victory. It was enough to make Darla wetter than she’d been since her prom night.

“Off! Get my panties…off,” she urged him.

Her lover gladly obliged her, grabbing them by the side and sliding them off her shapely legs. She even undid her bra in the process, allowing her breasts to pop free. The sight of her naked body with the image of Eagles players kissing the Lombardi Trophy in the background sent Adam into a passionate frenzy that Darla eagerly embraced.

“Darla…my MVP,” Adam said to her.

Joining her on the couch, her new fiancé got on top of her. She eagerly spread her legs, allowing him to position herself over her while still having a nice view of the Eagles celebrating their championship. Holding onto her thighs and focusing that special passion of his solely on her, Adam thrust his hips forward and entered her.

“Ooh Adam!” Darla cried out.

Already, she felt like an MVP. His manly flesh filled her womanly depth, sending a surge of sensation up through her core. Almost immediately, Adam began working his body against hers, making love to her with a fervor unlike anything she’d experience in the 13 years they’d been together.

With each movement, he rocked her world, letting out deep grunts that doubled as sounds of victory. He held onto her thighs, holding them apart, which allowed him to penetrate deep with every thrust. Darla moaned with delight at every sensation, reaching up and caressing her lover’s face. She kept beckoning him with her gaze, urging him to make love to. Like star quarterback in the clutch, he delivered.

“Oh yes! Oohhh yes!” Darla gasped. “Adam…my champion.”

“Darla…my love,” he said.

Her world kept rocking as their naked bodies moved and gyrated together in the ultimate victory dance, evoking a potent combination of pleasure and triumph. At one point, Darla pulled him down closer so they could kiss as they made love. It added extra intimacy along with the euphoria of victory.

It proved to be a perfect combination, victory and love. She and Adam, energized by their team’s first championship, tested the stability of their eight-year-old couch. They made love with the kind of vigor and passion that only champions could muster.

One moment, he had her bent over the edge, thrusting into her from behind so she could see the Commissioner present the Lombardi Trophy to Eagles owner, Jeffrey Lurie. The next, she had him pinned on his back, riding his cock as the players sang the Eagles fight song play while accepting their congratulations. Somewhere along the way, she had an orgasm. In fact, she ended up having several.

That rush of pleasure, alongside the thrill of being engaged and being an Eagles fan on this night, made it extra special. It was a feeling she made sure she shared with her lover, making sure he got more than his share of the pleasure when he achieved his own climax.

“Darla…I’m close,” he told her.

“Then, go on, my love. Fly with me with me…like an Eagle,” Darla said, mirroring his own passionate words.

When it finally happened, she made it a point to embrace him passionately, tying her love with the heat of ecstasy. Those same cheers he let out when the game ended turned to cries of ecstasy. It helped cap off a truly remarkable celebration for a very memorable Super Bowl Sunday, one that Darla wouldn’t soon forget.

Their championship lovemaking complete, Darla settled into her lover’s arms. They remained naked, still indulging in the blissful afterglow of both passion and victory. Other fans might cheer. Others might loudly proclaim that this was the best night in the history of Philadelphia. However, only Darla and her lover could claim to know the true bliss of soaring like eagles.

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February 5, 2018 · 8:17 am

Ode To Tomboys And How One Made Me A Better Person

I try not to get personal on this site too often. When I do, though, I try to make an important point that others can learn from. That’s not easy, since everyone’s personal experiences are different. When one of those stories resonates, though, it’s a beautiful thing.

With that beauty in mind, I’d like to take a moment to appreciate a certain female persona that tends to evoke mixed emotions in people. For me, though, that persona has a special place in my heart because certain women have influenced me in a major way. That persona, in this case, is that of the female tomboy.

I know the stereotypical tomboy isn’t known for her sex appeal. She doesn’t come off like the kind of person who would inspire an aspiring erotica/romance writer. However, I think the appeal of a tomboy goes far beyond how little she has in common with the cast of “Mean Girls.”

I’m guessing that most people knew someone growing up who fit the mold of a tomboy. She was a girl, but she didn’t have “girly” interest. She liked sports. She liked cars. She liked to hang out with boys, didn’t care for makeup, and didn’t mind getting her nails dirty. Whether she was a friend, relative, or classmate, she probably stood out more than most.

There’s all sorts of social and psychological insights into what makes a girl a tomboy. I don’t want to get too much into that. For this, I want to keep things personal. I want to tell a short story about how a very special tomboy influenced me in a positive way, one that I still feel to this day.

Out of respect for her privacy, as well as the fact that I haven’t kept in touch with her, I won’t use her real name. From here on out, I’m just going to call her Carly. If, by some remote chance she ever reads this, she’ll probably recognize the importance of that name. She may even recognize me. I hope that happens because I don’t think she knows what a profound impact she had on me.

I knew Carly from grade school. We met when we were in the third grade and we shared the same classes until grade six. That’s a pretty critical time because we were both still kids, but were on the edge of puberty. While I don’t think it played too great a role at the time, I think it influenced the context of our friendship and our connection.

What made Carly stand out, even for a kid like me, was the fact that she didn’t look like the kind of hardcore tomboy you’d imagine after seeing “Little Giants.” If you randomly met her in public, you wouldn’t know she was a tomboy, but you would probably expect it. While she did look feminine, she never wore dresses, skirts, or makeup.

If you spent any amount of time with her, you learned quickly that Carly wasn’t a typical girl. She didn’t conduct herself like the other girls I knew. Whenever we did group projects, she worked with boys. Whenever we had lunch at the cafeteria, she sat with the boys. It wasn’t that she hated other girls. She just preferred being around boys, myself included.

I didn’t think too much of that until I saw her doing more than just being around boys. What made Carly special was how she went out of her way to match other boys in terms of skill, grit, and strength. While the other girls hung out on the playground, Carly was playing basketball and football. While those same girls talked about boy bands, she talked about who won on Monday Night Football.

I remember multiple instances where the boys got together to play touch football and she would be the only girl who wanted to play. We let her too. None of the other boys joked about it. There was this unspoken rule that Carly was one of the guys. She proved that she belonged. Anyone who gave her crap about it was not welcome.

Keep in mind, these are pre-teen boys who still think cooties are a thing. These are boys whose maturity level is limited by the amount of cartoons they watched that same morning. The fact that none of them gave Carly a second look, nor did they question her ability, says as much about them as it does about her.

More than any other girl, at that time, Carly fascinated me. I watched as she ran alongside other boys during gym class, playing sports like football and baseball better than some of the other boys I knew. Being so young, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I just knew I had to go out of my way to hang out with her and be friends with her.

While I won’t say we were close friends, we did know each other. We recognized each other outside of class. That eventually culminated in a moment that would both solidify Carly’s place in my memory and inspire me in ways I didn’t appreciate until later in life. That moment occurred when I was in little league one year.

From the time I was in first grade until the time I went to middle school, I played little league baseball. I loved baseball as a kid and it was the only sport I ever felt passionate enough about to play seriously. In all those years of playing little league, I played with a lot of other boys, some more memorable than others. However, through those same years, only one girl ever dared to play little league with boys and that was Carly.

I still remember the day when I saw her run out onto the field, a dirty old hat and a new baseball glove in hand. I had no idea she would be on my team, but when I saw her, I remember smiling. I even watched as she fielded pop flies and practiced batting with the coach. While I wouldn’t say she was our best player, she held her own. She could throw, run, hit, and catch. She wasn’t just a tomboy. She was an athlete.

In later years, that memory has taken on far greater meaning. Remember, I was a kid at the time. I was still at an age where girls might as well have been another species. Since pre-school, boys hung out with boys. Girls hung out with girls. We didn’t question it. We just separated ourselves, as though it had been ordained.

Carly showed that those unwritten rules weren’t really rules. She showed that girls didn’t have to be that different. Girls could still like boyish things. They could also be tough, play sports, and relate to boys just as well as they did with girls. Carly embodied that spirit better than anyone I’d known before or since. She was like a kid version of Rhonda Rousey.

That may not sound like much on the surface, but I can’t overstate the importance of that influence. The fact that I knew a girl who could so comfortably embrace boyish things made me question whether the divide between genders really mattered that much. The older I got, the more I realized how arbitrary that divide truly was. Carly was living proof of that.

It was because of Carly that I began interacting more with girls. This did make me a bit weird in the eyes of other boys. I started seeking out female company before it was considered cool for a kid. I like to think that gave me a head start on puberty in that it prepared me to appreciate female company better than most.

It’s also through my interactions with Carly that I stopped trying to talk to girls as though they were so radically different. In doing so, I realized that girls can talk about things like sports, cartoons, and even comics. While these girls might not have been tomboys like Carly, we were capable of sharing the same interests.

Conversely, it showed me that boys can share girls’ interests as well. To me, that was a big deal because it’s through dealing with girls that I developed a fondness for romance. Whereas boys may look at movie, comic, or TV show and appreciate the action, I often found myself appreciating the romantic sub-plots. I don’t think I would’ve had the mind to appreciate those things without Carly.

For that, I’ll always be grateful to her. At the same time, I regret not being a closer friend with her or keeping in touch with her. In my defense, we ended up going to different middle schools so we never got a chance. I would still love to know what came of her. She struck me as the kind of girl who would go far in life.

I don’t know if she outgrew her tomboy persona, as many girls do. Even if she did, Carly’s influence on me was a turning point. I may have been a kid when I knew her, but she inspired in me the kinds of ideas that shaped me into the man I am today. I like to think I’m a better overall person because of it.

Dealing with Carly helped me interact better with girls and people who were different from me, in general. Carly also proved to me that girls and boys weren’t so different after all. We could relate to one another, work together, and grow together. As a kid, that’s a radical concept. As an adult, that’s an important life lesson that helps men and women alike appreciate each other.

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February 4, 2018 · 10:43 pm

Super Bowl LII Is Complete And The Eagles Are World Champions!

I’m just going to leave this here and let it speak for itself. What a game! Even if you’re not a football fan, this game is one for the ages.

https://twitter.com/TitanicTD/status/960354615186345984

 

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