Before Internet porn, there was some risk and effort for boys to get a hold of printed porn. I remember hearing about guys having special stashes in tree houses or in the woods where all the boys in the neighborhood could access their porn from the unofficial lending library. The risk was getting it to your room or out of your backpack and under the mattress without getting caught by a parent or sibling. Acquiring a rental porn video was a major event of negotiating with someone of age, using a fake ID or knowing someone behind the counter. The risk for shame and humiliation was serious back in the day. Continue reading
Warning: Contains Sexual Content (of the middle age flavor)
Hockey Fest is a weekend devoted to a bunch of guys playing hockey on the pond at Pierce’s Inn. It is always a great weekend of male bonding, physical exertion and solving the problems of the world as well as the problems of the pond surface.
Friday night, they were up until 3 AM playing hockey and laying a new sheet with the makeshift zamboni. After a late sleep, they played for a few hours before a late lunch of chili. The next session went from about 5 to 7:30 PM. Dinner trickled until about 10 PM. The fellas enjoyed some wine and beer as well as some after-dinner chats at the table and by the fireside. While Bruce was out of the room, the guys mentioned how they hoped hockey was done for the night being that they were exhausted. With a few guys asleep on couches and the floor, it was apparent that ten guys wanted to call it a day, but only one guy was planning on playing hockey. When it is your hockey weekend, you call the shots. He returned to declare it was time. Passive mutiny wasn’t really working out. He was flat-out bullying his “guests” into playing. Continue reading
My eagerness to be open with my children about body parts and sexually related topics gets me in some challenging conversations with our three-year-old son Zander. I spent a weekend in New York City with a friend where we saw The Vagina Monologues. Being righteous about vaginal pride, this play had serious impact on me. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Zander would catch some of the many phone conversations I had about the play during the following week.
One afternoon Zander and I were having snack together at the table while eighteen-month-old Sadie was still napping. We were chatting about the mourning doves and robins out on the lawn. Suddenly he said, “Mommy, did you go see Da Bagina Monologues in New York City wid Riley?” Continue reading