Neanderpundit

As much as I look at the men who wear suspenders and long for the security that having my pants held up like lederhosen brings, I am not ready, just yet, to make that move.

The combination of my disappearing ass and my gravity-prone gut combine to push the belt down in front and not adequately hold it up in back, and if I shrug my hips and suck in my gut I can step out of my jeans like a bloated chippendale’s dancer.

So while I look at old films of Burl Ives and Robin Williams and think, wow, how cool would it be not to have to tuck my shirt in two hundred times a day, I’m damned if I’m gonna go there just yet. It will mean having resigned myself to yet another sign of having grown old, and I still have the littlest urge to resist.

is on TCM. One of Rock Hudson’s finest movies, maybe his finest. Certainly a showpiece for Hudson, Taylor and Dean.

Hard to watch the whole damned thing, sometimes. Great acting, great casting, a great story. Pardon me while I stare at Film the way it used to be.

Update: it may be that I’ve been hit in the head too many times, but the talents of these people can still bring tears to my eyes. It’s amazing to me how talented they are, and how the emotions come off the screen like a banquet for you to enjoy, if you are paying attention.

Tam’s talking about Cheating, and all of the talk and all the bullshit surrounding jesse and Tiger and whatever.

All i can say to this is ‘Free at last, free at last, I thank God I’m Free at LAST!!!

Look, my dick still works just fine, thankyouverymuch. No trips to the Viagra Triangle for me (Though for a while the BP meds didn’t make me happy, at least until I got them sorted out).

I was married to the ice Princess for seven years. I walked away from that relationship with a toolbox, a $75 car, the clothes on my back, my dog, and a Nikon F3, for which I had to borrow lenses if I needed them. Oh, and a woodie like a telephone pole.

For the next several years I devoted my behavior to constant horndogging, and let me tell you, I did my best.

I’m not gonna give any details lest people who are low on brain bleach read this, but suffice to say, I did what i could to wear it out.

And I got it out of my system.

All men of a certain age, as it were, should get it out of their systems, OUTSIDE OF COMMITTED RELATIONSHIPS. If you are about to enter into a committed relationship and you have not GOTTEN IT OUT OF YOUR SYSTEM you need to think hard about what the hell you are doing. And if your soon-to-be significant other hasn’t had that little come to jesus moment, then you need to let him/her make that decision too.

Certainly, the desire doesn’t diminish, if you’re healthy. And certainly, the opportunities present themselves. (if I had a dollar for everything that fell- almost literally- in my lap, well, I’d have several dollars)

The good news is that I don’t even have to pretend anymore. The ogwife is all I will ever need, and ever be desirous of. I flirt, of course, but it ends there. I also look, of course, but the women I look at? They ain’t a studyin’ me. At all.

So: My opportinities are in my past. I had them, I used them when it was appropriate, and I relish the memories. And the opportunities I might have now? Well, for anyone who hasn’t met me, I’m a fat old man with bad hair and a bad attitude, no ass, and a 12 year old ride with 366,000 miles on it. The girls will not be beating down my door. Ever.

Free at last, free at last, I thank God I’m free at last!