Category Archives: Life, Living and Loving

Life, Living and Loving: Living With PKD

Back in 2011, I was in the emergency room thinking I was having a heart attack. One of the things they wanted to do was stress test me but, uh, um, thanks to my stroke, putting me on the treadmill would be a disaster – I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the speed necessary to stress my heart. So they were going to do it chemically and as I waited for them to get that ready, a vascular surgeon came to see me and told me that I had an abdominal aortic aneurysm that was going to need repairing and, oh, by the way:

You have polycystic kidney disease. We didn’t get to really talking about that – not his balliwick – but, nope, wasn’t have a heart attack but I needed surgery to repair the aneurysm to ward off it blowing up and taking me out. The repair was successful but one of the doctor’s that came to check me out was a nephrologist and she talked to me about this polycystic kidney disease thing; she had me pee in a cup (for testing) and she came back and said that, for now, it’s not bad but lay off the Coca-Cola.

Well, damn, but, okay. She said that I should follow up with her but I didn’t remember her name (and if she even mentioned it) or what practice she was a part of so other than looking up some stuff about PKD, I put it out of my mind and even thought that she’d follow up with a call to come in and see her.

It wasn’t until like almost two years ago now that I went to have my routine lab work done and the urinanalyis came back as me having microscopic traces of blood in my urine. What the fuck? Now the shit really got interesting: I was sent to both a urologist and a nephrologist and, well, me and the urologist got into it because (1) he shoved a scope into my dick and into my bladder – and I was wide fucking awake and (2) he was insisting that I had bladder cancer and a more invasive procedure was called for… and let me just say that I learned something about passing blood clots that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy after the procedure was done and, oh, yeah – no bladder cancer. Now, off to see the nephrologist… after a pit stop for an ultrasound of my belly.

I knew something wasn’t right because they did the ultrasound, looked at the results… and did it again. Then they looked and called in a doctor and, okay, I want to know what they’re looking at and what all the fuss is about so I get off the table, go over to where they were looking at my scan and, holy shit: Are those my kidneys? Normal-sized kidneys are fist-sized… and mine were way bigger and misshapen due to the cysts. I was stunned to see this and they were, too, but I told them I had to see a nephrologist so that kinda chilled them out. But, damn: That would explain why I looked like I had a beer belly… and I don’t drink beer. Shit.

I made the appointment and when I got there and filled out a sheaf of paperwork, I was surprised because they already had me in their system and confirmed that one of their doctors had, indeed, seen me in 2012 after my AAA repair. But talking to the doctor, he was like, “I don’t know why you’re here since there’s nothing we can do about this… unless you need a kidney transplant.” I told him that I had read up on PKD and agreed that his information matched the information I’d found about this but, I was told to see him… so here I am. He had asked me if I had had any dialysis (and the urologist insisted that I needed to be on dialysis but, well, yeah – that guy) and I said no and I thought that he was going to order it and that bothered me because, back in the day, I worked in a dialysis center and, oh, my god… I’d see patients cramping and throwing up and one patient actually went into cardiac arrest (they were okay afterward) so, shit, I don’t wanna do that but if I have to, so be it.

Officially, I have Stage 3 (moderate) kidney disease.

No cure. They’re not even sure why people get this disease but they suspect it’s hereditary but there was no history of this in my family that I knew of. At the time of my first visit, there were no medications or even surgical procedures that could be done but, later, I was told of a new medication that my doctor didn’t think I’d be a good candidate for taking it. He asked me about any abdominal pains and I said that I didn’t have any… but my lower back hurts at times and he kinda laughed and said that he guessed that it would given how big my kidneys are.

So, now what? The only thing I was directed to do was to… drink more water. A lot more water. He told me that the cysts could burst and if that happened and the pain was, in his words, incredible, just go to the hospital so they could give me the good stuff for the pain but, otherwise? Drink water. Get lab work done and he’d see me next year… or sooner if things went south in some way. Did I mention that I can’t drink a whole lot of water without throwing it up? I didn’t? Oh. That. But I gotta do what I gotta do.

I have remained stable: It’s not going to get better but it’s not getting worse. My nephrologist, PCP, and even my vascular surgeon are keeping a very close eye on things via my lab work. There are days when my lower back is “killing” me and some days where the backache is a dull roar in the background. There are moments when I’ll feel a kinda sharp pain on one side or the other and I suspect that it’s a cyst bursting but the nephrologist told me that if that happens, there’s no danger of whatever’s in the cyst giving me any problems. I can be doing… anything and that pain will hit me and either get me making a face or, sometimes, stopping me in my tracks if I have them while standing up or otherwise moving around. At best, it’s annoying as hell.

The only thing I can is to drink water. I recently purchased a one-gallon water bottle (with a straw) that has markings on it to guide me through drinking it all and it’s challenging just looking at the full bottle and, to make it worse, water is boring. I thought about adding some flavor to it, like those Mio things I’ve seen advertised but every one I looked at has artificial sweetners in it and I have yet to come across one they say tastes like sugar but doesn’t leave a nasty aftertaste in my mouth. My tongue doesn’t like that shit and neither does my stomach; that stuff gives me the runs something fierce so I’m stuck drinking a lot of very boring water 99% of the time. Sometimes I’ll get cranberry juice but realized that I can’t buy enough of it to satisfy the requirement to drink a gallon of water a day.

With my new bottle, I have managed to drink half of it in a day; I hope to get to the point where I can suck it all down in a single day… but I’m not really looking forward to it but it’s either this or wind up having to have dialysis and contemplating kidney replacement. Who knew that drinking water could be so tiring? I didn’t… but I know now.

It’s weird because I can actually feel my kidneys bulging out all over the place and especially when I’m lying down but that’s the only time my lower back isn’t hurting. I thought that having my AAA repaired – and having the repair repaired – was some bad shit but this PKD thing seems to be worst even though my nephrologist did tell me that a lot of people have this and never wind up needing dialysis or a transplant, which is encouraging and keeps me crossing my fingers and toes. He tells me that there are things in the works that, hopefully, can really do something about this, like, reducing the size of the cysts but those things are way down the road. He did tell me that he could go in there and do something about the cysts… but they’d just grow back and he said he was sure that I wouldn’t want him poking me in the sides in a vain attempt to drain the cysts.

I shuddered to think that if he did that, I’d be awake for it. Oh, fuck no. I still have a bit of PTSD after that shit with my bladder and I can sympathize with anyone who has ever passed a kidney stone even though I’ve never had that problem. Just saying. I can also sympathize with anyone who has been catharized and they were awake for it, too – I’ve never been awake when that was done to me and I thought that being awake when they removed it was bad; no, it isn’t. Not even close. Gives me unpleasant chills just thinking about that shit. Brrr.

Otherwise, life just keeps going on. I’ve kinda moved away from wearing pants that requires me to wear a belt because that’s uncomfortable so when I have to wear pants, I have my Dickies “Farmer John” pants that don’t give my bulging kidneys a reason to fuck with me a whole lot and, besides, unless I have to go out, I’m not wearing clothes being in the house. I was very worried about this and where my AAA repairs were concerned since my kidneys are attached to the abdominal aorta… and my implanted devices are inside there and just below where the kidneys are attached… but my vascular surgeon isn’t concerned – he gets to see them when I go see him every year so if he’s not worried, I’m not gonna worry. My nephrologist isn’t worried. My PCP isn’t worried but he keeps “giving me shit” about drinking more water and he’s right but I often remind him that he’s not the one drinking all of that water and when moving around, feeling and hearing it sloshing around in my stomach.

He just laughs. It’s a somewhat nauseating feeling but now an “occupational hazard” I just have to deal with. At this point, if the worst I have to deal with is having my lower back aching, I’m good with that. I just wanted to write about this and as a kind of PSA because I had had this “for a while” and had it not been for the fact that I got worked up under the cardiac protocols and getting CAT-scanned, I wouldn’t have known that I even had PKD. No symptoms of any kind. If anyone in your family has had any kidney problems, yeah, you might want to arrange to get an ultrasound to make sure you don’t have this and, hopefully, when you see your doctor, he’s ordering a urinalysis as part of your routine lab testing; any blood in your urine should be taken seriously and investigated further.

I’ve told folks that I have PKD and once I explain to them what it is, they are like, “Oh, shit!” but I tell them that despite the Stage 3 (moderate) tag, I’m okay. I have what looks like a beer belly. My lower back hurts. I fucking hate drinking all this boring-assed water.

See ya tomorrow.


Posted by on 17 December 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: The King’s Affection

Between the holidays and the damned virus fucking shit up, finding stuff to watch on TV is a pain in the ass so, one night, we were looking for something to watch on Netflix after watching “Squid Game” and, well, for some reason, Netflix is loaded up with a lot of foreign language shows and a lot of them are Korean.

We saw, “The King’s Affection” and despite the fact that the actors are speaking Korean and we have subtitles,we decided to give it a look… a d wow, it is one hell of a show!

If you’re not used to watching such shows, it can be hard to figure out what’s going on and why since you’re looking at some cultural differences and some historical stuff that can be even more confusing… but this show? It does have you wondering what the hell is going on and why it is; it has some despicable characters that I know I’ve been yelling at the TV that they need to die and the sooner the better…

And then there’s the love affair between the Crown Price and his teacher… except the Crown Prince is really a princess. Her mother gave birth to twins but in the Korean royal court, that was very bad juju so the girl was to be killed… but she wasn’t. She was spared and hidden in plain sight as a maid to the royal court.

Until someone figured out that she was still alive and had to be killed for real but since she and her twin were identical, um, they wound up killing her brother… and let the deception and intrigue begin!

This show is good. The acting is top-notch and there’s a lot of comical stuff mixed into the intrigue and treachery taking place as the princess takes in the role of her brother and what goes on to keep her secret.

Even with subtitles, this show is so good. I’d normally not recommend such a show since it’s a soap opera but, damn, if you have Netflix, I highly recommend that you binge watch every episode and maybe you’ll be like me and wish that a second season is in the works.

I’d be pissed if they don’t have a second season. Man, this show is unexpectedly good.

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Posted by on 11 December 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project 2021: “I Gave to You”

This is a 1970’s song by The Delphonics that is so nice and was “the song” for me and my then-girlfriend; we both heard it for the first time at a house party we had attended and as we danced to it, wow – it conveyed our feelings to and for each other way better than either of us could say.

It’s one of those songs that you could actually use to let your beloved know how much you really loved them… and without saying a word yourself. It was our song but musically and lyrically, it just touched me; it’s soulful in that classic R&B way that, today, R&B has a hard time duplicating. The band I was in also covered this song in one of our “slow dance” sets and as the group’s drummer, whew, the song meant so much to me that I had to make sure that I was playing the music instead of just listening to it; sometimes, during rehearsals, my bandmates would have to remind me to pay attention… and giving me a bunch of shit about my lack of attention or, as our bassist once said, “You can go get that pussy after we finish!”

It’s not one of those “timeless” songs and I’m not sure if there are many folks today who even heard of The Delphonics or any of their other songs although they have one song that is more well-known than this one is: “La-la Means I Love You.” For this song, it wasn’t just about dancing to it; it was also about singing it as you danced, too; R&B in the 1970s had a lot of slow songs that were like this where you could dance – we called it grinding and for a pretty obvious reason – and even if you couldn’t carry a tune if it had a handle, if the song meant something to you, you sang it anyway.

The song talks about being in love, from the joy of it to the pain of it; it’s… a sexy piece of music and even when I listen to it today – because it lives on my R&B playlist – it brings back so many memories of being young and in love and not much else mattered in the world other than that. I have, admittedly, found myself crying listening to it because the song just touches me that way.

I’m gonna give y’all the URL to the lyrics which also appears to have a link to the song itself:

The musician in me loves the simplicity of the song although, personally, there are some spots where I think the drummer is… sloppy with his rolls – I wouldn’t do them that way and when my band played the song, I just didn’t but I understood that’s how it was written for the drummer at the time. The guitar parts are… melodious and fluid; the lead singer’s tenor just gets to you, not so much in the way Eddie Kendrick’s voice did or even Philip Bailey’s (lead singer for Earth, Wind and Fire if ya didn’t know that); the harmonies are… raw in their simplicity and that’s not a bad thing; they’re not overdone and, overall, it’s one of those songs that you can just sit and listen to… and think about being in love.

And it reminds me of being in love in a time where the rest of the world was going to shit and the messages to “Make love, not war!” were very prevalent. Back then, songs had messages; they told a story or expressed feelings of love and pain like music today, while okay, just doesn’t do like it used to. This song, every time I listen to it, takes me right back to the exact moment I heard it; I know where I was, who I was with, what we were doing and even that “wondering” feeling I had when the party’s hostess said, “I got this new song y’all just gotta hear! It’s a slow song so grab your man or lady and get your asses up and dance!”

And we did… and it became our song. The joy of it; the sadness in it. A reminder that love feels good and not so much and, strangely, it’s not a bad thing that love can hurt so bad in that sense. It’s one of those songs where you would have had to been there to be a part of how it not only affected me but everyone else who was there and heard this song that night. You just didn’t hear the song: You felt it. One of those songs that, the next day, had me hauling ass to The Record Museum to get the 45 and one that I had to replace a few times because I’d play it so much that I literally destroyed the grooves in it. The other side, which had the song, “When You Get Right Down To It” was an okay song but didn’t get played all that much and was more in pristine condition.

Thank goodness for MP3s…

There are a lot of songs done by The Delphonics that are more memorable and chart-toppers… but while being good, they didn’t mean as much to me as this one song did… and still does.


Posted by on 5 September 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project 2021: “Do Me Baby”

I remember when this song by Meli’sa Morgan came out and at a time when R&B was getting more sultry and a tad bit raw. Songs like “Secret Lover” and “As We Lay” were quite popular and along the same “risque” lines but this particular song, wow.

I’d gotten the album after hearing so many people talking about this song; got it home, put it on the turntable and gave it a listen and, okay, musically, it was interesting but I hadn’t really listened to the lyrics all that much until, during a Friday get together with my sister and her husband – and with me playing DJ as we played cards – I put the song on as a change of pace and paid attention to the lyrics… and found myself being aroused by them. What the hell?

It was like she was talking to me, telling me what she wanted me to do and like I never had before and give to her until she couldn’t take any more. The song is playing and I’m trying to pay attention to the cards in my hands… and I’ve got a problem in my pants that wasn’t easy to ignore. Looking around the table, I saw that I wasn’t the only one captivated by the song’s lyrics; my wife (at the time) and my sister were smiling, ah, let’s say, salaciously and my brother-in-law, well, I can’t say where his head was or if he even noticed how my sister was looking at him but he was kinda like me in trying to pay attention to the cards in his hand and maybe with the same, um, problem I was having.

The song was getting down near the end and, shit, I gotta get up to put something else on and thought for a moment how to do that without “flashing” the room with my erection but I thought that we’re all adults here, right? I was going to put on a more up-tempo song when everyone at the table shouted, “NO! Run that back!” and, to be honest, I’d been thinking about replaying it anyway. The card game got forgotten for a moment because our ladies wanted to slow dance with us; the look on my brother-in-law’s face was precious and I thought it was because he didn’t really want to stand up and flash the room and as I wound up doing… but that’s probably why they decided that having a nice, slow, dance was in order.

So… we’re dancing with our wives and you just gotta know that my wife had to whisper in my ear, “Looks like you’re happy to see me…” and if I could blush, I probably would have which would have been silly because, you know, it’s not like she’s never seen or felt me hard before. I mumbled something in reply as it seemed to me that the longer the song played, the more aroused I got and grinding with her wasn’t helping matters any. I could hear my sister giggling over something her husband said to her and continuing to whisper to each other and, jeez, is it just me or is it really hot in here?

I could feel my wife’s breath on my neck, all hot and steamy and now I’m thinking about how to kick my sister and brother-in-law out so I could take care of the growing ache in my balls and, yeah, do her like I’ve never done before. And to make matters even worse, she whispers in my ear, “I know what you wanna do… because I really want you to…” and I think I groaned – well, I know I did inside my head and I must’ve actually done it because she gave me one of those low, sultry kind of laughs that sent chills racing through me. The song hits the high point; the synth drums are banging out the beat and Meli’sa’s singing, “Do me…” over and over and the song reaches its highest point and I shuddered and not unlike I might have had an accident in my pants.

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case but I was sure that I’d had an orgasm as the song wound down and, again, my wife didn’t help matters any by looking into my eyes and saying, “Hmm…” Because I could – and before I knew I had to let go of her to catch the record, I reached between her legs and, how ’bout that? The crotch of her jeans was damp and I just looked at her with a salacious smile of my own. The song ended and to kinda break the spell, I asked, “One more time?”

Everyone agreed that it was time for a different song and we still had a Spades game to finish… and I’d never been more thankful for the diversion. I wasn’t fully erect but I could feel my dick all fat and hot against my thigh and then, if shit couldn’t get any worse, my sister looked at me, shook her head and said, “Get your head outta the gutter or get a room!” We all laughed and of course I had to point out to her that I was at home so getting a room would be easier for me than it was for her. And it wasn’t like she had any room to talk from the way she kinda gingerly sat down.

Man… I couldn’t wait for them to go home! Even though I was playing a lot of different music, this song kept echoing in my head and I still couldn’t shake the very weird sense that Meli’sa was speaking directly to me. I had even mentioned it when we were talking about how good the song was and my brother-in-law admitted that he felt the same way I did and also admitted to thinking that he was just imagining it. Um, no, it wasn’t just his imagination (see what I did here?) and our wives were strangely silent.

And I was thinking about putting the song on tape and the whole tape with just that song on it; there are some songs that are just tailor-made to make love to and to me, this was one of them. As I was thinking this – and as the current hand ended – my wife got up and went to the stereo setup, grabbed a new cassette and handed it to me and said, “You know what to do when they leave, right?”

I’m not gonna say that I did her like I’ve never done before or that I gave it to her until she couldn’t take no more… but she got done and while the song continuously played the whole time.

The next day, my sister and her crew stopped by; apparently, somewhere during the evening, she’d lost her keys and rummaged around the house until she found them in the living room. While she searched, my brother-in-law sidled up to me and asked, “Did you do what I think you did?”

“What do you think I did?” I asked.

“Put that song on tape and…,” he replied.

“Uh, yeah, I did,” I said.

“So did I,” he said and we stood there grinning like idiots and got busted; my sister, who had found her keys said, “Oh, you two need to quit!”

One of the ongoing projects I have is to collect songs from back in the day. I had had Meli’sa’s album, then the CD and had ripped the CD, along with a great many others, to my computer to create playlists and all that and even when I’m in the mood to listen to mood music, “Do Me Baby” is right at the top of the playlist and still affects me the same way it that that day so long ago.

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Posted by on 4 September 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s September Song Project 2021: 2525

My 13-year-old self had been having a grand time at summer camp despite having the thought that since I’d been going to this camp for years now, eh, maybe it wasn’t going to be as much fun as it had been in the beginning. I had gone back to my original camp activities of archery, riflery, and swimming even though I’d already gained every award/achievement they had to offer for these things – and I did it because over the years, I’d taken many of the other activities and they were okay, like horseback riding and understanding what it was like to be atop of an animal with a mind of its own; yeah, TV cowboys made it look so easy to just hop on a horse, didn’t they?

Going back to the beginning, however, allowed me to meet “Christine,” a green-eye, red-headed, freckled angel of a girl who captivated me on the very first day we hit the archery range. She’d been having a lot of trouble stringing her bow even thought the instructors had demonstrated it quite a few times. Being an old hand at it, I went to help her and the moment our eyes met I, um, I forgot why I was standing next to her. Then she smiled… and I was pretty sure I’d forgotten where I was and maybe even who I was.

To be honest, it wasn’t as if I was inexperienced with girls… and in any way you want to define it. I liked girls but this one? Like any other teenaged boy, my hormones were already redlined but that initial moment of meeting Christine was such an instantaneous rush of emotions that I felt dizzy and had to take a seat after helping her get her bow strung and the dizziness threatened to overwhelm me when our hands incidentally touched, making me gasp and I dimly remember her blinking rapidly, her jaw dropping for a moment. I’d sat down for a moment, breathing heavily and, I guess, so distressed that an instructor came to check on me and having them ask me if I was okay broke the “spell” that came over me. I told them that I was fine and the day’s lesson began… but I wasn’t at my best, not in the form that had gotten me the American Archer award just a couple of years ago.

Maybe it was fate… or purely a coincidence but in every activity I had, Christine was there, too. At the rifle range, jeez, I had the jitters so bad – and because she was in the firing position next to me – that I had a hard time locking in on the target; what the hell was wrong with me and an even better question, why was I feeling this way every time I saw her? Even at lunch, my eyes were drawn to her from across the dining room, picking her out easily from all the other girls in that section; our eyes met – again – and I must’ve blanked out for a moment because I hadn’t realized that instead of taking a bite out of the sandwich in my hand, I ate my napkin instead. I got snapped out of whatever the hell this was by the guys at my table having a good old time laughing their asses off at me for doing just a dumb thing.

As smart as I was (and according to all the tests I’d been taking), I couldn’t figure out what was going on with me; before lunch, we had swimming class which was a “waste” of my time since I had long since achieved the highest level of swimmer and, as such, didn’t need instruction. But there she was again and even with her buddy, I had no problem locating her out of all the kids in the safe swimming area… and not more than ten feet away. My heartbeat pounded in my ears and so loudly that I could barely hear my own buddy asking me something. That got me out of my moment and as I went to answer him, Christine had gotten swamped by a wave and separated from her buddy; the next thing I knew, I had her in my arms and her head above water… and I shuddered, then was embarrassed because I’d just ejaculated in my swimming trunks.

Worse, I think she knew it since my front was pressed against her back as I moved her toward the beach. She didn’t say anything (thank God) but she smiled and thanked me even as the lifeguards came running over to see if we were both okay but her smile was even… brighter than it had been earlier that day on the archery range. Yeah, I thought she knew what had happened with me.

It was going to be a long two weeks. My days were filled with Christine and in the moments where we were separated, my thoughts were occupied by her and my nights, oh, damn, my nights were filled with having to masturbate several times because she just haunted me into having erection after erection and even when I slept, it was fitfully and there were too many mornings where I’d wake up with my underwear plastered to me. What the hell is this? What is wrong with me?

Somehow, a memory showed up to explain it all; I remembered the day I had asked my mother how would I know if I was in love and she gave the answer of, “When it happens, you’ll know it!” I thought, at the time, that it was the most useless answer I’d ever heard from her and had dismissed it… until now. Was this love? Is all this shit I’d been feeling and going through what it means to be in love? I didn’t know and there was no one I would even dare to ask being at camp.

Then came the night of the camp dance, which was always held a couple of days before the end of every camp session and attendance was mandatory. The room was filled with laughing, talking, and dancing kids of all ages and I had felt… weird dancing with other girls and either locking eyes with Christine – and being pissed off to see her dancing with some guy – or just knowing she was looking at me as I danced with someone. At one point, the music changed from being up – tempo to slow and the counselors chaperoning the event reminded us to keep some distance between ourselves and our dance partners. I was kinda standing there when the song, “In the Year 2525” began to play and I heard a voice I knew all too well asking, “Do you want to dance with me?”

I turned and looked and saw Christine standing there but, of course, I’d already known it was her and there was no way in hell that I was going to tell her that I didn’t want to dance with her. And we danced and, perhaps, a bit closer than what was allowed but no chaperone came over to separate us. The song seemed to go on for forever as we swayed on the dance floor and gazing into each other’s eyes and at the part of the song where the singer was talking about the year 2510, Christine said, “I think I’m in love with you… and I think you’re in love with me, too…”

Then she kissed me and the next thing I knew, we were outside on the building’s deck. Wait… weren’t we just inside and dancing? How did I get out here? I blinked and realized that I was holding Christine’s hand and she was smiling and even crying; did I do or say something wrong? I was able to remember that just as the song got to the part about the year 2525, I had told her, “I love you…” and that’s when I blanked out, I guess. Standing there in the warmth of the night, holding her hand, wow – nothing else mattered or even existed. We kissed – totally against the camp rules – and our tongues got together and I could feel our bodies trembling and I was sure we were holding each other up… and I was praying that I didn’t shoot in my pants.

We were both crying now after talking about camp being over for us and that we’d never see each other again and I was so in love with her and so totally heartbroken at the same time and looking into her eyes told me that she felt the same way. We got snapped out of our moment by the counselors saying that the dance was over and the hustle of the various counselors collecting their charges to once more put a lot of distance between the boys and girls. We kissed one more – and last time – and it was beyond amazing; we ended it just in time for some counselors to wrangle us up but not before we had a chance to tell each other where we lived… and the exultation of finding out that we lived in the same damned city! That last kiss wasn’t a kiss goodbye and forever!

We’d become boyfriend and girlfriend despite some… resistance from her parents and over that racial bullshit that existed. It didn’t stop us from sneaking off one day when I was allowed to visit with her and, um, well, we made love on a blanket in the neighboring woods and listening to our song on the radio she had brought with her. If we hadn’t known that we loved each other before, we knew it as our bodies joined and we became one with each other. And, oh, how we both cried in that moment and I understood what “tears of joy” meant as I came in her over and over and over until I couldn’t anymore… and even then nothing mattered other than my love for her and the love she felt for me. I knew what it meant when she’d said that she wanted to give herself to me even if it got us in trouble; I remember my mind giving me a “busy signal” to hear her say that she had to do this because she had been told – and like we all had been – that she should only give herself to someone she loved… so she did. We explored each other’s bodies; I remember how she gasped and shuddered as I kissed her “down there” over and over and how she made me gasp and shudder as she returned that special kiss to me and the rest was… beyond beautiful.

Then she moved away; I remember feeling that same heartbreak I’d felt at camp when she told me about it and how her dad had gotten transferred and made worse because we were only allowed a few short minutes to say goodbye to each other and allowed one last kiss before it was time for me to head back home. I don’t even remember walking back home; to me, one moment I was taking one last look at my beloved Christine and the next moment, I was walking through the door of my home. And to make things even worse, I kept hearing our song on the radio, which made me happy and sad all at the same time.

Today, I don’t know if the song can be found… and even after all this time, I don’t know if I could listen to it even if I could find it… but there are times when I think about it and it makes me think about Christine and the first girl that I ever fell in love with… and it makes me smile at the memories of our short but beautiful time together and, yes, especially the moment we stole to “consummate” our love and defining what it meant to make love.

One of the musical moments I will never, ever forget…


Posted by on 1 September 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Being Poly

This is something I don’t write a whole lot about these days but being poly is forever etched in my heart and soul. I know what’s good about it – and it’s more than just the sex – and I know what’s bad about it and how/why a lot of people who give being poly a shot, more often than not, tend to fail more than they succeed.

Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of people embrace polyamory and a lot of them have been single and, well, for the longest time, I would wonder, “How does this work for single people?” and more so when single folks are actually free and clear to engage with whoever they want and as many as they can manage… and then I thought about some stuff that made going poly for single folks not so easy to do:

It’s what we think relationships are supposed to be like and an inability to break away from the prescribed behavior of one man/one woman. I gave a lot of thought to this and saw that when it comes to relationships, single folks are held to the same standard as married people are – relationships are monogamous and can’t be anything other than that. Having been married and poly showed me that while this doesn’t make being poly any easier, what it does do is provide an anchor point (for the lack of another way to put it); married folks often find it’s “easier” to be poly because at the root of this, their core relationship is the anchor point and provides the strength, love, and trust to make branching out “easier.”

And an anchoring point that single folks don’t have. The biggest mistake I found and learned about this is when you attempt to be poly while invoking any of the rules of monogamy, yep – that’s gonna be a problem. Then toss in and for good measure that many folks aren’t too keen about sharing and, of course, the rules of monogamy says, “Thou shalt not share anything with anyone else – ever!” The way we’ve always gone about relationships makes us… territorial and, yeah, possessive which brings me back to the thing I say about this: In order to be successfully polyamorous, you must forget and unlearn everything you know about love, sex, and relationships so you can learn a whole different way of doing these things… and not many people can do this.

It’s one thing to think that you can; it’s one thing to see the sense that polyamory brings to the table and, again, just not exclusively a sexual thing. It’s a whole different thing to actually get into it and saying it this way doesn’t even begin to cover how intensely difficult it can be; it’s not as “easy” as getting together with a bunch of people who thinks and feels the same way you do… because almost everyone has their own idea of how a relationship is supposed to work. Not only do the ever-pervasive rules of monogamy make being poly one hell of a clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks, there’s the other thing I’ve said that comes into play: All those negative emotions like envy, jealousy, possessiveness and obsessiveness? You can’t allow them to be a part of this – ever…. but it’s a combination of human nature and the rules of being monogamous that makes this a difficult thing to move away from and eliminate from one’s heart and soul and, yes, their minds.

I’ve seen a lot of written material about this and I’d not say that it’s bad or anything like that but, shit, how can I put this and have it make sense? Being poly isn’t a one-size-fits-all kind of thing so while there are experts who write and talk about the “best ways to be poly,” there’s much more to it and beginning with the people involved and if you’re the kind of person who thinks or otherwise believes that being able to openly love more than one person at a time is the “big problem” everyone says it is, you’re not going to do well in a poly situation. You have to know, without any doubts in your mind, that you do have the capacity and ability to be “madly in love” with more than one person and it never made sense to be limited to loving just one person at a time. And then you have to be able to find people who are like this, too. I’ve said that to be poly, you have to be seriously grown up and, sorry to say, a lot of people find that they’re not as grown up as they thought themselves to be.

This isn’t about sharing sex with a lot of people: This is about sharing every damned aspect of your life with a lot of people. In a piece that DDJennifer wrote about this very same thing, she accurately pointed out an inherent flaw and cause for polyamory to utterly fail with some folks: Expecting equality rather than equity. Many find out almost right away that trying to treat their poly partners equally just doesn’t work. Indeed, one of the qualities needed is the ability to multitask and with attention to detail about those in your poly group because, um, everyone is different and while that sounds like yet another Captain Obvious statement, you probably can’t imagine how this means so much when considering polyamory and right along with the fact that people do change and I do not mean “over time” but literally from one moment to the next.

Most attempts at polyamory fail because of a lack of planning and by this, I mean there is no plan that is – and should be – a shared vision of how this crazy relationship is going to work and what its goals for everyone involved are. Even I learned that if you don’t have 100% buy-in to the shared vision by everyone involved, things are going to get interesting. There are different… flavors of polyamory: Open, closed, triads, quartets, so on and so forth and then the shit gets deep and I do mean really deep within these flavors and it does make a difference whether or not a poly group is living together or separately and, yeah, if anyone has children. I’ve seen people apply rules and, with married or existing couples, rules that more often than not serve to preserve their core relationship. It’s not that it doesn’t work because it can… but it’s usually a recipe for disaster when, I’d say a lot of times, those rules are severely locked down and not subject to change or even discussion.

Which brings me back to another part of this and some skills that, if you don’t have them or suck at them, you’ve got some work to do. Communication is everything and once that fails to be established in effective ways and among all involved, failure is imminent. The other skills are time management, conflict resolution, and problem resolution as well as an ability to be more objective than subjective when you wind up having to “play” referee and peacemaker and not having these skills and abilities is yet another recipe for disaster.

I’ve said time and time again that being in a poly relationship makes being married look like child’s play… because it’s way harder than being married and if you’re single and thinking about embracing a poly lifestyle, hah – if you think dating is a major pain in the ass? You ain’t seen nothing yet because being poly makes dating look easy and problem-free. I’ve said that the moment anyone involved starts thinking “me” more than “us,” things are going to get shaky and, again, it’s just human nature for someone to think about what they want and need and it becomes the basis of their “agenda” and one that carries a lot of urgency and must be front and center… and that’s yet another fatal mistake those who fail at this tends to make – that “my way or no way” thing that has killed the shit out of relationships time and time again.

As such, if you lack the ability of the art of compromise and negotiation, well, hmm. It’s not just “what’s best for me” but it’s all about “what’s best for all of us.” It’s “what can we do together and as a ‘whole’ while attending to each other’s individual wants, needs, and other stuff like that. Whether your single and trying to do this or you’re already in a relationship, eh, it’s not so much a thing of “management by committee” so much as someone probably – or should – bear the responsibility of maintaining the group gestalt and keeping everyone focused on the shared vision that you better had established. It’s not so much a thing of being “the leader of the pack” but, yeah, it kinda is but doing so in an objective way and minus any personal biases and that’s incredibly difficult for a lot of people and, usually, I think, because of what they think relationships should be like and not what they can potentially be, you know, if you can get and keep everyone involved on the same page.

The sex. I’m not gonna bullshit you: If you think the sex is a secondary concern, you just screwed the pooch. The sex is important because sex binds and even in this, if you have a long list of things you’re not going to do for love or anything else, yeah, you might wanna do something about that. In this area alone, failures occur because someone will invariably start feeling like they’re being left out or they’re not getting enough of the action or, with existing couples, one person is having way too much fun than the other and many find that the more rules put in place to, um, contain or suppress sexual activities, the greater the chance of failure. Even in this, a lot of people tend to think more about what they want and need more than what can be possible and eschewing what I think is a “simple” premise: Everything is negotiable. It’s just that not many people are of a mind to negotiate and in that “my way or no way” mindset that we all tend to have. It might sound counterintuitive but the sex must flow, whether it’s one-on-one or if it happens in a group setting and if you have inhibitions or other hang-ups about sex and, yeah, sexuality, hmm, ya might want to work on getting rid of them and beginning right now.

And then, if all of this doesn’t load your plate up to beyond overflowing, you still have to go about your daily life and those things that are connected to it. One of the things that is a benefit is that if you’re struggling in day-to-day stuff, you hopefully have people around you who are ready, willing, and able to jump on in and give you a hand with it; poly relationships are “one for all and all for one” so it’s not just about the sex and the other things that go along with being in this very extended and complex way to be in a relationship… and one of those things also involves children and whether they’re youngsters or adults… and that just makes all of this even more complicated. It’s funny in that there was a time where we’d say that it takes a village to raise a child but these days? Yeah, not so much and no parent likes or wants to be told how to raise their children and other related things and, yep, a lot of folks tend to forget that their children do have a minds of their own and, yep, one big mistake a lot of folks make is trying to hide this from their children – and children who are a lot more observant that we’d like to believe.

Then if all of this hasn’t baked your noodle to a very crispy crunch, there’s what other people are going to see and think… and some of that isn’t going to be a good thing. I learned that when you try to keep this on the DL, yeah, that just ain’t gonna work and if I had a dollar for every time someone asked me what the hell was going on, my money problems wouldn’t be a problem. They’re going to notice it and some will be intuitive enough to know exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into and some of them are going to read you the riot act and like you’ve never heard it before. Sure, it’s none of their goddamned business what and how you’re living your life in this and, yep, they’re gonna preach to you about the way you should be doing things and the important thing that you and all who involved should keep firmly in mind that this is your life and lives and you have a responsibility to yourselves to live it the best way you can manage to do so and if that means there’s a “bunch” of you living and loving together and it allows everyone to flourish, that’s just the way it is and if no one else likes it, all they can do is not like it… and being prepared for repercussions is a very smart thing to do.

Shit… I remember when my mom figured it out and I was kinda/sorta prepared to get read the riot act to end all riots acts when all she said was, “I hope you know what you’re doing.” My response was, “I hope so, too.” I did have to “correct” her on one thought she had: This wasn’t my idea to begin with but I was both challenged and tasked to make it work and it actually made sense since we were already open to begin with and there were certain… needs that had to be met to maintain continuity – and peace in the valley – in our marriage and relationship. I knew before I accepted the challenge that this was going to be one hell of a mess… but one I felt I could deal with. I didn’t expect it to last very long… and it lasted way longer than I could have ever dreamed of and, nope, it wasn’t as smoothly as it could have idealistically been. We all made mistakes and, yeah, if you wanna know how I know what I do about it? It’s because we screwed things up as well as made them work and since I had the “job” of being the gatekeeper, well, I learned some stuff about what it takes to live a poly lifestyle that I’m glad I learned… and kinda wish I hadn’t.

It’s like “any other relationship” in that what works for one probably ain’t gonna work for another which is why if/when you’re considering this, you and whoever chooses to be with you in this has to sit down and “design” the foundation of the poly relationship and keeping it as simple as humanly possible. Being in a poly relationship is the ultimate relationship; it defies everything we know and believe when it comes to love, sex, and said relationships. Monogamy and it’s hard-set rules will not work in this and trying to hold onto to those rules can turn this into an “us versus them” kind of situation that will lead to its demise and in a hurry. It’s being committed to each other but also being committed to that shared vision I mentioned a while ago and if you or those with you aren’t of a mind to be that committed, well, ya might not wanna get into this or you can keep your nose to the grindstone and find those who can be this committed… and with the sure and certain knowledge and understanding that nothing is forever.

Being poly – and very much like being bisexual, as it turns out – isn’t just a thing to do: It is a way to be and it’s a life-changing way to be. It’s not all about having a group of lovers or sexual partners; this is about, again, sharing every aspect of your life with people you love and everyone being in love with everyone else, not equally because that’s impossible but with focus on equity, the quality of the relationship and with those who are willing to do whatever’s necessary to make it work and keep it working.

You don’t have to take my word for it. Research it; see what others are thinking and saying about it both pro and con and then take a lot of time to search deep within yourself and see if you can be up for the great challenge it is most definitely going to present. It is worth it because if nothing else, you learn some stuff about yourself; you learn what being in love can really mean and that love doesn’t have any boundaries except those we put in the way of it. There’s just so much work that has to be done, personally and especially if you go forward to embrace polyamory.

And I do wish anyone considering this all the luck in the world because if you do this, I can almost guarantee you that it’s going to be the most insane thing you’ve ever done… and ya just might be glad that you did it anyway.

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Posted by on 4 July 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Mrs. Fever’s Inspiration Project: What Inspires Me to Write

I write a lot about bisexuality and the inspiration comes from the fact that I am bisexual and have been for a large portion of my life… like over five decades. The other thing that inspires me to write about it is knowing that:

  1. A lot of people have no idea what bisexuality is.
  2. A lot of people don’t know how to be bisexual and that it’s not just a thing to do sexually.
  3. A lot of people have questions or concerns and there aren’t that many answers to them that aren’t couched in pie-in-the-sky nonsense and psychobabble.
  4. It’s a kind of legacy thing; I felt a great need to pass on what I’ve learned about this and I’ve learned a lot of shit about this
  5. It’s therapeutic to write. Years ago, I had a stroke that left my whole right side impaired. I had to relearn how to walk and relearn how to do simple things like pick something up with my right hand and other stuff right-handed people normally do and including, for me, being able to type as well and as fast as I could before I had the stroke.

I like to say that I’m “rabidly bisexual” which might sound weird but isn’t; being bisexual is the shit, not just because of the sex that can be had but because it proved to be one hell of an eye-opening thing that, almost right away, showed me the world and the way things really worked. I saw that what we believe about certain things is just the preferred way to do them… but has never been the only way.

Bisexuality liberated me from conventional thinking, beliefs and behaviors. It’s been likened to being blind… then being able to see and now a lot of the things that didn’t make sense started to make sense… and I embraced the hell out of it and, without any shame whatsoever, yeah – the sex is just fucking amazing. Once I started blogging – and blogging about this particular aspect – the thoughts that are forever bouncing around inside my head now had an outlet and if I had a regret, it’s that it took a long time for me to find this outlet and I probably wouldn’t have until a very dear – and now late – friend of mine told me about the blog she was writing and suggested that she thought I’d be good at blogging.

As it turns out, this month is my WordPress anniversary month. I wrote my very first blog on 28 May 2010… and I haven’t stopped blogging and, wow, I’ve had a lot to say about what it’s like to be bisexual and what it means as well as what I’ve observed from others on the topic. When someone asked me, “Why do you write about this?” my answer was, “Because someone has to… and someone has to be for-real about it. No sugar-coating it; no bullshit; tell it as it is and as I’ve experienced and observed it.”

While a lot of bloggers blog to gain an audience and can be all about the stats, eh, I don’t care about that so much; I’m inspired and “driven” to get the word out to anyone who cares to pay attention to it that bisexuality isn’t the non-existent thing everyone seems to think it is. It’s not all about the sex but the sex is just as much a part of it as the emotional aspects are. I’ve heard a lot of people ask, “Why do guys have sex with each other?” and I’m the guy who can answer that question and, nope, being gay has nothing to do with it… and I’m also the guy who is inspired to do some mythbusting and get down to the real and “dirty” answer to that question…

And then to let anyone who cares to read what I write know that the only shame in this is the shame we allow ourselves to feel or allow someone else to foist upon us. Stats aren’t important; the fact that few people ever comment on the things I write about this doesn’t mean a whole lot… but getting the word out there means everything.

I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good, therefore, that I can do or any kindness I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer or neglect it for I shall not pass this way again.” Etienne de Grellet du Mabillier is credited with uttering these words and when I first saw this, I was inspired; if I can “set the record straight” about what it means to be bisexual and what it is, then I’ve done some good and, again, someone has to. If not now, when? If not me, then who? I’d not call my the expert in things bisexual… but I know some shit about it and, as one can see when I write, it’s a lot of shit that most people aren’t even aware of because few people ever really bother to dig down deep and as I did to answer a question I asked myself five decades ago: How can something that’s supposed to be so bad feel so good?

Because I know the answer, yeah… inspired like you wouldn’t believe. I know the good of it as well as the bad; I understand the science behind it and if being bisexual didn’t teach me anything, it taught me what it means to be human and no matter what the rules have to say about it. Some bloggers write to excite and stimulate and, well, when I write about, um, certain things, they can excite and stimulate… but that’s not the purpose or reason because if I really wanted to do that, I can and have written erotica and got published (and paid) for it. I am inspired to inform and to the best of my ability to do so and do it in a no-nonsense, no bullshit kind of way because I know, even if no one else does or cares to know, bisexuality is some very real and life-changing shit.

And I remain inspired to be the one to have the nerve and gall to write about it… because someone has to.


Posted by on 15 May 2021 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: That TMI Tuesdays Thing

Wow… writing that piece for TMI Tuesdays brought back a rush of memories, spanning a great many years and a kinda huge mashup of the good and the bad experienced when taking a step to the side and not being totally monogamous.

I remember the beginning of things, the great shock and confusion of the moment, including the terrible painful feelings as well as feeling inadequate and unworthy to learn that I, alone, wasn’t enough… even though, after the initial review, it wasn’t really me that caused this to come to the surface but it still didn’t feel good to be told that she wanted someone – anyone – who wasn’t me and then trying to make sense of the explanation and getting to understand just how complex and confusing such a declaration really meant.

Like most husbands, I believed in the sanctity of marriage; I understood what it meant to be bound by the vows I’d taken and all that they said and was otherwise implied… only to find out and eventually come to the conclusion that it’s almost impossible to be all someone is ever going to need; not only that but over any given period of time, people change but being monogamous is so… static and creates an environment where a lot of things aren’t really allowed to change.

I also realized that there are… consequences to loving someone and vowing, saying, or even implying that you’d do anything in your power to make and keep your partner happy being with you. In this, it was that “shit or get off the pot” moment and dealing with a damned if you do and damned if you don’t moment and even having to decide which of the two evils were the one that could be lived with along with the even harder and painful thought processes to end a relationship that was, up to that moment, engaging and good.

Was this going to be the biggest mistake ever? A right and proper thing to do and all for the sake of love? The hardest part about this is not knowing what’s going to happen if you don’t… and now being fully aware of what’s gonna happen if you do. You think that you know the person you love with all your heart and soul… until you find out that you kinda/sorta don’t really know them but, then again, what this is really about is not being all that aware of what changes are going on inside of them and coming to terms over why you weren’t aware of them before you became aware of them. It’s not so much of a thing of not paying your partner enough attention but more of a thing of not being all that privy to everything they may be thinking about and those things that, for reasons of their own – and because of the nature of those thoughts – yeah, um, you might not want to mention them out of fear of reprisal:

Even when you know someone fairly well, you never really know how they’re going to react to something; you can be somewhat certain of that but, eh, not really but if you really want and need to know one way or the other, you just gird your loins and say the things that you know have to be said. There is a certain appreciation of this level of honesty and despite the amount and depth of emotional pain and agony that can be experienced to find out that your partner needs something you can’t provide them or they need a lot more of what you’re already giving them and even they need something that’s different in a great many ways.

It’s even a bigger bitch to get kicked in the balls and finding out that what you so very much believed in was flawed and incredibly so; it’s a shock to the system when you look at all of this and realize that those vows and other such affirmations we make when we are in a relationship do not ever factor in the fact that people change and that odd situation where everything is going well… but not really. And you don’t really get to understand that, sometimes, a change in things – and this kind of change in particular – is one that is seen to be necessary even if for one’s own sense of self-preservation and invoking Rule Number One: Look after your own ass first. In these things, the vows and affirmations we make, I think, were designed to eliminate this very important rule and implies that you are expected, required and demanded to sacrifice all that you are for something you now know doesn’t really work the way they say it’s supposed to work and without exception.

If nothing else, getting smacked in the face with this can have you asking yourself just how much you really love, want, and need someone; it makes you face yourself – did you really, honestly, and truly mean all of the things you said about loving them… and if you reject the “ultimatum” of putting an end to being monogamous, it’s not so much about what it says about them but it does get you thinking about what your rejection says about you; if I learned nothing else from this, I not only learned that what we believe about how relationships are supposed to be isn’t the only thing that’s flawed and erroneous: It’s also your belief in such a flawed system, too.

What would you do for the sake of love? I know what I did and I gotta tell you that even as I made the very difficult decision to break the rules, I had a lot of misgivings and even fears over it but, then again, from where I was sitting, I didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter and the question I had to answer for myself was which thing was better – to know what she was doing and who she might be doing it with… or not know what was going on but also knowing that this was gonna happen with or with my “blessings?”

I had a lot of people tell me that I made the wrong decision; I should have left her and some… assholes said I should have given her a proper ass-kicking over this; I’m not that guy and leaving her – and that being the “logical” thing to do – well, my heart and my love for her wasn’t hearing any of that and more so when you’ve invested your whole life in someone, throwing it all away is a pretty dumb thing to do because it’s time in your life that you can never get back and while many people would suffer through having to start all over again with someone else, shit: When you get hit with this life-changing revelation, you become very aware that if it happened once, it could happen again and for a lot of the same reasons.

As a result, I totally lost faith in the tenets of monogamy. Oh, it has its good parts and for many, it works well since many are quite content to abide by the rules and no matter what’s going on with things. In a way, it’s a matter of honor, isn’t it? You vowed or promised to keep only unto yourself and let no one put asunder… but you also vowed or promised to be in this together through better or worse… and it doesn’t get any worse than knowing that even at your very best, you’re not all they will ever want and need and while such things can be suppressed, there might come a time, a tipping point, where their survival – and in their view of things – is in jeopardy and something has to be done… and by any means necessary.

And I was made to understand that this doesn’t apply to just those who are married; we deal with being in a relationship but not being married under the same tenets and guidelines and the only real difference is lawyers don’t get involved when things go south or otherwise break down. As we discussed how this very drastic change in our lives was going to take shape, I spent a lot of time kicking my own ass over believing something that, again after really and seriously looking at it, was about as flawed as anything can be; who in their right mind vows and/or promises to never want anything or, in the case, anyone else; who in their right mind actually sets themselves up to either fail or to find themselves stuck in place and without any other way to get unstuck outside of taking that relationship and throwing it all away.

But then seeing and beginning to understand that, hah – you can have your cake and eat it, too; you don’t have to throw it all away and that this? This not being monogamous thing? That’s well within the realms of something that’s humanly possible to do and more so when you really do love someone as much as you think and you’ve said that you do… and now it’s time to shit or get off the pot and to prove that those things you said about loving them weren’t empty and meaningless and that, you are willing to stick with them for better or worse. Holy shit, right?

So we went there and I’m not gonna lie and say that everything went swimmingly well… because it didn’t; even in this, I came to understand that not only do we really don’t know how to be in a relationship to begin with, this not being monogamous thing is an even bigger unknown. We know the theory of being in a relationship and we develop our own idea about how this is supposed to go – but based on something that, again, has more holes in it than a screen and, at the worst, prevents people from being who they really need to be as well as suppressing a lot of shit that is more damaging that breaking the rules seems to be.

Even after the long years after making that fateful decision, I still sometimes ask myself if by agreeing to not being monogamous, did I really make a mistake… and I found that no, I really didn’t even though things were rocky in the beginning and as in any relationship, shit doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to… but you improvise, overcome, and adapt and even more so when you really don’t want to lose what you already have; you just gotta take the good with the bad and keep making the best of things and to the best of your ability to do so.

The things that took place were exciting and all that but when I look back at it all, the biggest thing I took away from this departure from the norm is what I learned about myself. It was pretty fucked up to find out that I wasn’t as grown-up, worldly, or even as smart as I thought myself to be. I thought, once upon a time, that I could handle anything… right up to the moment I found out that I couldn’t handle this. The one thing I found that I could pat myself on the back about was being willing to step into very unknown territory and deal with it and, oddly, it became a matter of personal honor; I could have thrown in the towel but since I didn’t, time again to shit or get off the pot… and for better or worse.

Because of what being in love can really mean and that this? This not being monogamous thing? Yeah… love says you can do that if you’re not afraid to because, sure enough, love conquers all. The challenge of a lifetime and one wrought with more pitfalls, sink holes, and other hazards; it’s everyone’s worst nightmare and greatest fears come true and made real… now it’s a question of whether you’re really grown up enough to face the fears and nightmares… and for the sake of love itself.

Those of you who’ve been following and reading, you might remember the things I’ve said about this situation and they always bear repeating: You have to unlearn everything you thought you knew about love, sex, and relationships in order to learn a very different way to do these things. You have to be willing and able to break a whole lot of rules and see the reason for breaking them because the love you have for each other pretty much demands that those rules be tossed out and newer ones be put into place.

I am really and seriously not joking when I say it was the most insane thing I ever agreed to and have been a part of… and the thrill of a lifetime all at the same time. We grew together in this; we learned together; we reveled in it together and we suffered through the missteps and failures together; we not only learned much about ourselves as individuals, we learned about ourselves as a couple and even then, there was much joy and pain in the learning. One of the big things I learned was just because you can do a thing, you don’t always have to do it… but if you can, well, why not? It wasn’t so much what we were doing that held a lot of importance to me but the fact that we were sharing it all with each other was the thing that made such an insane decision for either of us, oddly and strangely, probably the best thing we could have ever done.

There are always regrets and nothing is forever… but you learn to be and live in the moments and I’m not sure if even now if I can really explain this state of mind. I know all that went wrong, the mistakes both of us made along the way; I realize that we were learning how to do this as we went along – since there was no Internet at the time, there wasn’t the current wealth of information that could be referred to and it wasn’t like we knew of anyone who was also doing this very crazy thing before the fact. Things could have gone better… but they could have been much, much worse.

And the craziest thing? I’d do it again. There really is no such thing as loving and being loved too much and that feeling alone is amazing beyond mere words and, yeah, the sex? It’s amazing how good it can be once you free your mind from the way it’s supposed to be. Even in this, it’s fascinating to see how we grew in this, from going about it individually to doing it together, to having and sharing lovers and that poly way. If nothing else, you won’t ever look at monogamy the same way ever again and, really, the lesson to be learned is that no matter what kind of relationship you’re in, you do have a duty – a responsibility – to make the relationship as good as it can be; you have that same duty and responsibility for your partner’s wants and needs and if there’s one that they have, it’s not impossible to provide it and, believe it or not, it can make you feel rather wonderful knowing that you are able to provide for those needs.

And because love says that you should even though the rules say that you can’t and shouldn’t. For most people and when you ask them what they’re willing to do for the sake of love, the answer is, “Not a whole lot.” When we tell the person we love, “I love you,” there’s an unspoken “but” that can be present and, of course, that usually represents what you’re not going to do. There are, of course, some things that shouldn’t ever be done like, I love you… but I’m not gonna go kill someone just because it would make you happy and other such stuff along those lines. But giving you that “more” that you know you need and it will require some… outside help? We can do that; all we have to do it put our heads together and decide the best way to get it done for each other…

And for the sake of the love we have for each other and for love, itself. Most people will say that they couldn’t do it; that they wouldn’t do it even if it could literally save a life; they don’t believe in such shit and the promises, vows, and affirmations are inviolate and resolute. They’d rather throw away an otherwise good relationship. Some might even give the sense of that they care about their own ass more than they do the person they’re with. It reminds me of that song by Meatloaf – I’d do anything for love… but I won’t do that and, in this, the “that” is putting yourselves in that seemingly impossible situation of having your cake and eating it, too, and the cake eating is being enjoyed and even shared.

If it sounds like a lot of work, believe me – it is and this is a rabbit hole that is even deeper than you can imagine it to be and while doing it ain’t easy the hardest part is all of the stuff that I think has to happen before any doing gets close to happening… and I’m pretty sure that you’re gonna learn some stuff that you’re gonna wish you hadn’t learned about your partner and yourself, too. That part alone is a good enough reason for not even going there and for many, love isn’t a good enough reason and, well, shit – I really don’t know what to say about that mindset.

Writing the TMI Tuesday piece brought back so many memories, some beyond pleasant and those that just weren’t pretty at all. It’s something that is hard to wrap your head around even in theory because it calls for one to be able to set aside that which they believe and going to places that our morality deems to be forbidden territory. You think you know what it means and is like to love someone? You really have no idea of what that really means until what you think you know or otherwise believe gets challenged and put to the test. Most people would run away from this… and, let’s say, only the most bold and daring will run toward it and for no other reason that they believe more in the power of love than they do the tenets of monogamy.

I don’t believe in it any more and haven’t for a very long time. It has value and there’s no denying that and for many, it works… and for many more, nope – not really. A lot of people these days are seriously looking at being ethically non-monogamous or, my favorite phrase, negotiated infidelity and many are finding out how to make it work for them. They are, today, finding out what I did so many decades ago:

I would do anything for love… including that.

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Posted by on 18 December 2020 in Life, Living and Loving


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Life, Living and Loving: Sixty-five Years and One Day

Not only was yesterday Bisexuality Visibility Day, it was also my 65th birthday! In past years, I’ve written, nostalgically and reflectively, about my birthday – where I’ve been, where I am, and where I’m going but this year? I got nothing and very likely because of the death of my mother 21 days ago and yesterday was a pretty somber day because it’s the first time in my life that I didn’t get to talk to her about me being a year older.

Other than that, well, it was just another day despite reaching a landmark moment in life. I’ve been kinda laughing my ass off over all the mail and emails I’ve been getting about turning 65, retiring, getting onboard with Medicare and supplemental insurance plans… except, um, I retired a long time ago now and due to the stroke that disabled me, I’ve been getting all of those Social Security disability things including Medicare so for me, turning 65 changes nothing in this regard and more so when they’re not going to let me have both disability benefits and retirement benefits… but it would be nice.

So… I’m 65 now. My age has changed and all that but I really and truly don’t feel any different and my mind, such as it is, is just going right along with no new hiccups. 23,726 days have passed since I was born (not counting the nine months spent in the womb) and when you look at this number, well, that’s a lot of days and, of course, I’d be more than happy to add thousands of more days to this number. I look in the mirror every day and I see… me. Older. Grayer. Hair missing from where I’d like it to be and, yup, hair trying to grow in places where it wasn’t growing before. Got some health issues but they’re being managed and the lab work I had done the other day says that, okay, old dude – you’re not doing bad for an old dude.

Yesterday, Twitter, in particular, was blowing up about Bisexuality Visibility Day and with many folks celebrating it and in whatever form that took. I laughed to myself to remember when I found out that BVD – and there’s joke in thee – was being celebrated on my birthday – what a coincidence, huh? I not only get to celebrate my birthday but also my bisexuality! Except, um, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t celebrate it since I’ve been bisexual for 20,440 of my 23,726 days. As far as visibility goes, well, hmm – if you can see me, I’m not sure how you could miss me to be kinda literal about that but it remains true for me – and many other bisexuals – that my bisexuality is none of your business unless I choose to make it your business or, um, you have an offer that I might be interested in. Otherwise, visible evidence of my sexuality continues to be on a need to know basis… and there will always be those who doesn’t need to know. Not to mention that, um, er, there’s really only one real way you can actually see it – just saying.

It’s not so much about being proud in that sense: I just am. I very much like being bisexual not just for the sex but it’s what’s comfortable for me. I sit and observe so many people fussing about bisexuality being real, the lack of visibility and I take that to mean that you can’t look at someone and tell if they’re bi or not, and all the stuff people do to keep themselves from being the bisexual they want and need to be… and I’ve spent a lot of time either shaking my head while doing whatever I can to “educate” folks about bisexuality and as I’ve come to understand and learn about it and it all being driven by a question I asked myself way back on day one of those 20,440 days: How can something that’s supposed to be so bad feel so good?

It didn’t take a long time to find the answer; in fact and as I recall, it took me less than two weeks to figure it out: It feels good because it’s supposed to… and it’s bad because everyone says it is. Even in that moment, hmm, one of these things can’t be true and it was pretty easy to see which one wasn’t true… and it wasn’t the “it feels good” part. In those 20,440 days, I’ve learned some shit about bisexuality because, admittedly, I was obsessed with finding out everything I could about it and my curiosity has spent those 20,440 days having a fun good time being able to keep learning about this. I’m no card-carrying expert… but I know a lot of shit about this just the same because, um, those 20,440 days weren’t spent just thinking about it, if ya know what I mean; it’s just not an intellectual exercise because, yeah – it does feel good.

While so many see being bisexual as two very different thing, for 20,440 days (and still counting) of my life, it’s just one thing; just one part of the whole of who I am and have been for quite a bit of time. While I recognize the need to make bisexuality something that people should recognize – and whether they agree with it or not – every day is a celebratory day for me in this.

In my 23,726 days, I’ve accomplished a lot and like everyone tends to do, eh, some things I’ve just straight up fucked up – c’est la vie. Water under the bridge. Congratulations on being human and, importantly, surviving it. My beloved mother lived for exactly 31,236 days and I can only hope to live that long. One of the things we always talked about on my birthday – other than I was getting really old – was how proud she was of me (and my siblings) and that God has been so good to me and given some of the things that happened that could have stopped the days from continuing. I miss her busting my butt about losing my hair and my beard being greyer or seeing that look on her face as I as did when we were on FaceTime and she said, “You have a birthday coming up! How old are you gonna be again?”

And seeing that… smirk on her face when I said, “I’ll be 65, Mom; um, you should remember that since you were there, weren’t you?” This year, it’s not so much about celebrating my life but hers, too, and living with the reality of things. It still makes me sad that she’s gone… but I understand it. I accept it; given what was wrong with her, it was even more inevitable but she left me with a purpose and a goal to live as many more days as humanly possible. She did it and in grand fashion and that’s a pretty good example if I may say so myself.

Being 65? Eh, it’s not so bad. Not really all that different from when I was 64 but, yeah, different from when I was 4, 14, 24, 34, 44, 54, and, yep, 64. It is another “coming of age” moments and while I’ve been a “senior citizen” since I turned 55 (in most definitions) well, shit: I’m officially a senior citizen now, ain’t I? And I’m damned happy to be one. I find myself laughing at myself when I’m getting up from where I’m sitting and I’m grunting and making “old people” noises; I roll my eyes when I take a step and a knee or ankle pops and cracks or I stretch and my body sounds like a bunch of fire crackers going off. It’s just a part of getting older and, as I told my oldest son yesterday, I don’t feel a day over 36.

Well, my mind doesn’t… but my body begs to differ. I’m just tickled to be able to celebrate my birthday and being bisexual all on the same day. Those of you who have reached this… venerable age and have passed it, you’re probably laughing your ass off because you already know what I’m finding out… and for those of you who haven’t gotten here yet, well, wait for it.

23,726 days. 20,440 being unashamedly bisexual. And more days to come…


Posted by on 24 September 2020 in Life, Living and Loving



Life, Living and Loving: Poly Sexuality (and a TBT)

When it comes to being poly and putting a group together, I’ve often wondered if the issue of sexuality really gets thought about or if the participants ever give any thought to what could happen in such a close and sexually active group. Does anyone really discuss this other than to, perhaps, insist on what’s not supposed to happen?

And do they really think that it won’t?

DDJennifer, in her comments to yesterday’s scribble, wondered why guys are so funny about having some fun with another guy in the group. It is, strangely, “generally accepted” that any women in the group will, at some point or eventually, get into having sexy fun with each other but, yeah – guys are pretty weird about themselves becoming the object of one of the other guys’ lust.

The reason is… some guys are just seriously funny about it and some are so funny about it that incidental or accidental contact with another guy is way out of line and can never happen. A lot of guys remain of a mind that, oh, leaning over and having a taste of “Paul’s” cock – and while Paul’s busy eating out a female poly partner – is too gay, unmanly or, believe it or not, sometimes afraid that if they do, they’re gonna like it. Even if some guys are of a mind to check out the other guy’s dick, there’s always that fear that the other guy is gonna object and the shit is going to hit the fan…

Which makes me wonder if any of this is ever and really discussed during the formation of a poly group. It’s one thing to put it on the agenda and as a “what if” kind of item; theoretically, it’s possible but often set aside because it’s deemed to be “impossible” and outside the realm of possibility or, yeah, sometimes, the guys better not even get the thought into their head at all. That a whole lot of guys in this setting go out of their way to avoid any contact with any other guys in the group isn’t all that unusual – remember, some guys are just very funny about that. I do think, however, that what gets overlooked is not only the power that sex has but it’s ability to bond.

Being in any group sex situation can be… interesting. Not so much in whatever’s happening but in what the participants are going out of their way to make sure doesn’t happen. The… fear of any same-sex interaction is very real and I’d suppose that, in a one-off kind of way, avoidance is easy because it’s not like whoever you’re having group sex with lives with you or is a regular participant when it’s time to do the nasty. Let’s see… how many times have I been in a group setting and heard a guy – or guys – emphatically state that there will be no funny stuff between us guys… and then there’s a guy playing with my dick?

And then the guy doing it is telling me he doesn’t know why he did that. Well, I know why… but, then again, I don’t underestimate the power of sex and its ability to unlock some shit inside of us that, perhaps, we’d rather not have unlocked or exposed. I’ve been in settings where the ladies have tossed the “no funny stuff” card onto the table and when things get hot and heavy, well, check them out – so much for no funny stuff, huh? People just tend to discount those “heat of the moment” moments; they can’t happen and aren’t allowed to happen and they’d better not happen if you know what’s good for you.

And in poly settings, well, it’s probably one of those things that probably should be discussed with more seriousness than is problem done. You’re a poly group and connected all across the board – and that includes sexually. One on one sex, eh, that’s easy but when there are times when “the gang gets together” there is always the possibility and even potential for the funny stuff you’d rather not happen to be thought of… or actually happening and, I dunno, maybe it’s just me, but I’d think that having a meaningful discussion and accepting that things can and do happen in the heat of the moment – or, yeah – the bond that’s being shared pretty much demands that no one should be excluded. So if “Gene” and our boy, “Paul” are two guys in a poly group and something were to happen between them – incidental contact or a dick gets fondled or even sucked, well, it can happen and more so when people do change their minds about such things and often depending on how deep the poly bonding goes between everyone involved.

Being poly invokes a deep sense of sharing that many find bothersome… and that sharing can – and sometimes does – reach the sexual level of things and, really – if some funny stuff happens, it’s not going to be spoken about outside of the poly group anyway or, what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom. Granted, finding yourself suddenly or unexpectedly in a same sex situation when it’s supposed to be an opposite sex only deal is… shocking and that grossly understates things and, as such, it’s gonna take so doing to get one’s head around it… but maybe not so much if the possibility was not only discussed but taken seriously because, again, people do really change their minds about stuff and sometimes right in the middle of sex happening.

If you’re gonna share, then should be really be limits placed on who gets to share whom? I learned not to be surprised by any of this. You don’t ever expect it to happen – well, unless it’s already been agreed that it should – but you should never discount or dismiss the possibility and it’s my thought that if you do dismiss or discount it, you might not be all that aware of that power to bond than you think you are – no offense. Now, some guys do say that if it happens, well, it happens and many may not be of a mind to really object or pitch a royal bitch about it because it can and will foster disharmony across the whole poly group. And, yeah – a lot of guys are more concerned about their own sensibilities in this and it’s not that they don’t have a right be concerned about them but what are you willing to do to contribute to the sexual happiness of one and all?

Among the fellas? Eh, not a whole lot. In any kind of group setting, I’ve known guys to be paying more attention to where the other guy is and what he’s doing than he is paying attention to what he should be paying attention to: Having sex. I’ve seen guys jump like they’ve been shot or something when I’ve gotten “too close” to them or our legs touch or some other kind of unintentional and incidental contact… and it has either made me shake my head or laugh to myself to see how… skittish the other guy is and it had made me shake my head to hear him say, all after the fact, that he reacted the way he did because he thought I was gonna do something to him.

Being bisexual, I’d never say that it didn’t cross my mind or that it never crosses my mind… but boundaries should be respected but I know, even if no one else does or believes it, that boundaries can be adjusted on the fly because there’s a need to, whether it’s being all caught up in the moment or there’s a bond in the process of being formed. Still, some guys are just funny about it. It’s unmanly. It’s gay as fuck. Don’t even look at me while we’re having sex with our female partners/participants and, yeah, sure, it’s a whole different thing if the ladies get involved with each other, “accidentally” or on purpose. Women just seem to handle this way better than guys do even if they didn’t expect anything to happen or they believe that any sex that happens between the girls is “too lesbian” for their sensibilities. Oh, they’re gonna talk about it later and they just might agree that, all things considered, it wasn’t all that bad.

A lot of guys, well, we don’t tend to think like that and, again, I know of guys who are very well aware of the possibility of some interaction with the other guy/guys and it scares the shit out of them. For some guys, it’s not like that they don’t feel the… bonding pull; I know a lot of guys who’ve said – and with some embarrassment – that they felt that if they just reached over and wrapped a hand around the other guy’s cock, well, that works. They didn’t do it but that’s not really the point in any of this.

Being poly is, of course, more than just the sex that’s possible; it is really sharing every aspect of your lives with others who choose to be with you in this – and now it’s just a matter of how deep that sharing goes. Rules are put into place to inhibit or prevent behaviors and are usually locked down tighter than white on rice and it works… and sometimes doesn’t so much because the thing that can’t be controlled is what someone might be thinking and/or feeling about the “no funny stuff” rule so many poly couples put into place – and where the fellas are concerned more than the ladies – women, again, are just so much better about this.

Maybe such interactions never happen – they don’t always do… but everyone involved in the group should, at the very least, I think, be aware of the possibility and potential and never, ever dismiss or discount the fact that people really do change their minds and for some folks, changing their mind can happen at the speed of thought and, yeah, I know a lot of people who have surprised the shit out of themselves to find themselves doing something they weren’t ever of a mind to do. I’ve heard them say that it just felt like the right thing to do in that moment or, if they did nothing – and to not start a riot – it still felt like the right thing to do. Again, I’ve heard both men and women say, “I don’t know what made me do that!” But I know why they did because, unlike most people, I know and believe that shit does happen and not always when it’s not supposed to. I know that people in the right place, in the right setting, and at the right moment can get unlocked being in that moment and that’s some very scary shit and more so when you really don’t expect to get that unlocked.

Which is what makes any kind of group sex pretty fucking scary for a lot of people and men more likely than women. It’s sex. It doesn’t mean that your gay or even bi but people have a hard time seeing sex for what it really is and the way it can be. If “Paul” unexpectedly leaned over and grabbed my dick, okay, it might surprise me since he made it clear that he wasn’t about any funny stuff… but I’m not surprised that it happened. Am shocked to find a mouth on my dick that “isn’t supposed” to be there? Nope, not one bit. Get a finger in my butt that isn’t attached to a woman? Not even gonna be surprised and not just because I happen to be bisexual (which helps): It’s because I don’t ever underestimate the power of sex.

Anyone considering being poly and in a group shouldn’t either. Have serious discussions about it and, if nothing else, acknowledge that the potential is there and it can cross someone’s mind even if they don’t plan on doing anything. Respect boundaries, of course, but if possible, don’t make them too… fragile, for lack of a better word. Even in this, no means no but people, again, do change their minds and it doesn’t always take a long time for such a change to show up. The only way something like this is going to fuck shit up is if you allow it to and the bad part is, Jennifer, a lot of guys are more than willing to let shit get fucked up than they are willing to just go with the flow of things. And no: I don’t think it’s “fair” that it’s okay for the girls in the group to play with each other but it’s not okay for guys to play with each other – and even if the only time they interact with each other is when everyone piles onto the bed and goes for what they know.

Hey… I won’t tell if you won’t. What happens in our poly family stays in our poly family.


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