I have a huge problem with casual sex.

I don't get enough of it.

Or, just as infuriating, I didn’t experience it at all during my 20's when I probably could have found it more easily than I do now.

I think Tracy's article is very interesting in light of social conservatives' attempts to promote the myth that sex outside of marriage is psychologically toxic, period.

But, it’s also interesting to me in the way it can be interesting to watch a party I’m not invited to—-the “on the outside looking in” perspective that each person can relate to relative to something—-at least once in the their life—-be it sex, career, status, culture, race, et cetera.

I'm a guy, mid-30s, urban, middle-class, Midwest- and evangelical Christian-raised, gay, politically progressive, thin, slightly above average in terms of fitness, average in appearance. From my vantage point, I'm more jealous than anything about Tracy's situation. I didn't emerge from a multi-layered mental complex of sublimation and self-deception to realize that I was gay until I was in grad school. (And maybe I was just plain a bit dense, too! Not every failure of self-awareness a person experiences is the result of some psychological condition. There is such a thing as just “not getting it!”) By that time, self-effacement, which is probably putting it mildly, was so deeply entrenched cognitively that I wasn’t and still am not particularly successful at dating or finding sex—-casual or otherwise. (But, but, but gay guys are just so promiscuous, right? All of them. All of the time. Right? Right?)

From my perspective, it’s interesting reading Tracy’s essay and the responses. Tracy, you’ve gotten far more sex at 24 than I had had by your age (none). You’re in a relationship (I’ve not really ever had one of those). You’re self-confident, which has to have been the result at least in part from upbringing and environment (e.g., broad-based cultural/general support—-though with opposing opinions to be sure—-familial support perhaps; certainly the former no gay American can claim without some serious evidence to the contrary, and the latter is enjoyed by few gay Americans). And you have your whole life ahead of you (I’m a bit older, but way behind you in terms of socialization, self-discovery). I guess I’m just struck how oddly EASY the sexual exploration is for you. It’s enviable.

this one's a keeper. you know, one of those: print-it-out-and-put-on-the-fridge-or-office-door ones. :)

What they say is that life is made up of a richness of small things and you need to keep them all in perspective.

I think that this is true. And I think it's easy to forget that it's true. I was born, raised, and educated in Iowa. Like Keillor, I live in New York City now. Urban life seemingly conspires to obliterate the small things; the massive billboards, massive buildings, massive budgets, massive rents. Certainly no one murmurs in the city of hustle and shout--not unless they want to go unheard. a sense of the small things that nature can offer can be gleaned by those able to afford to buy a home outside of the city--those with massive incomes. But for most new Yorkers, the small things are small without being satisfying. they're things like the simmering ripples on the Hudson on a summer day...if you can afford the view: if you put up with a long subway ride from Queens to get there, if you don't mind that even the Hudson is crowded with loud jet skis, sailboats offering an outing at $75 per ride, barges...and the entire scene lorded over by an endless round of helicopter sight-seeing tours. or it's things like finding a bar where a cocktail is less than $15.

But, I think Keillor's Iowa is gone, too. My mother and father still live there. I think Keillor isn't just describing a place--"Iowa"--but a time: the past.

The men leaning against the car. That was my grandpa Ike, who farmed most of his life up near the Minnesota border. But he's dead, the family farm is no more; my uncle still lives in the farm house, but the land was sold to a larger operation. He works in a factory. my mother works nights at a hospital in another town--where the factory is closing after many decades. my father talks politics, and god's will, and how awful political correctness is...and was supporting Sam Brownback. Now I suppose he supports Huckabee. There was a time when he was not political.

I’m not sure there's the leisure time or the inclination even in Iowa much these days for leaning and murmuring. Most leaning is forward--at the computer. And most murmuring is simply the statement that for good or ill, "things aren't what they used to be."

n/t

one of the best commentaries by keillor this year!