About a quarter of a century ago I was introduced into two close circles of wealthy dowagers of ages ranging from the mid-seventies to mid-eighties. One circle was in a major city in the northeast and the other in a southern small exclusive community. I have no details of their economic worth but just let me mention that one owned a famous racetrack and the other endowed enough money to a university that her name became almost synonymous with it.
I must emphasize two things: the first is that, even as a kid, I always respected and enjoyed the company of the “old folks”, and the second is that I was about 25 years younger than the youngest dowager. Also, I’m not sure whether any of them are still with us.
Though with certain exceptions, there was a commonality of life’s outlook among them. All were tough, impeccably well dressed, loved their lunches and dinners together and all had unbudgeable opinions- and I mean unbudgeable! At that time America was entering our rapid social change ranging from increasing drug consumption and sex participation to the increasing welfare state. If they were alive today, they would not be happy troopers – not at all.
Before I go on, there was a very clear-cut difference in behavior between the North and South dowagers. At lunch the southern ladies frequently wore outlandish hats, and they wore them with pride! One day, I dared to ask the question, “Why do you ladies wear these hats at lunch?” One of the very strong ones fired back, “Doctor, because we like it.” That answer shut me up. All the dowagers unequivocally believed in heretofore American belief that one should mind their own business. Privacy was the 11th Commandment with these gals.
They, however, when asked by me, were not at all hesitant and also proud to tell their stories of how they came upon their wealth. A few told me it came from trickle down family wealth but a number from their husbands who started out from scratch and made it on their own. One, as a boy, started out selling newspapers in a freezing mountainous region to help support his family. Another husband was also a boy from a poor farm family out west who milked the cows at 5:30 in the morning during the freezing weather. They were all, with eyes sparkling, very proud of their husbands and talking about how these men took care of them and their families.
Needless to say, they were all conservative in their politics emphasizing the importance of hard work.
I loved being with these dowagers, and here’s something that will surprise many of you. They still, on a level of man-woman chemistry exclusive of hormones, expressed interest in being with men. One day, I was having lunch with four of them in their private club all regaled with wondrous hats when a distinguished man in his early 80’s entered the restaurant. One of the ladies was puzzled and somewhat displeased why he had chosen as a companion a woman who was a bore. I, curious asked why they thought he was such a catch. One of the ladies smiled and replied, “He still has his teeth and still can drive at night.”
To my platonic sweethearts of the past, let me just say, “Wherever you are, I both enjoyed and immensely miss my moments with you. Happy Valentine’s Day!”
I would like to thank Lorenzo for his kind invitation to periodically share my point of view on his provocative blog. I quickly agreed under the condition that I, like “G”, would remain anonymous. Not because I, like “G”, have had 300 lovers, but just to write more freely behind an invisible cloak.
I love the idea of being anonymous! As a little girl, I would try on the slippers of Cinderella or the tiara of a princess and happily disappear behind these imaginative disguises for hours before returning to reality.
Why did I choose the pen name of Endorfina? When I was in my early 20’s, I met an authentic Italian count at a cocktail party in an ancient Italian castle. He was tall, dark and dramatically draped in an impressive black cape. I was introduced by my real name, but he quickly replied, “No, I am going to call you Endorfina!” A bit confused I asked, “Perche?” With seductive charm he explained that I was a simpatica bella bionda which brought to his mind endorphins, the neurotransmitters in the brain responsible for decreasing pain and suffering as well increasing pleasure. He was a romantic scientist, and I was taken by the romantic compliment. He was also a strikingly handsome Italian!
And so, as Endorfina, I will write and wonder about what’s going on in the world of sex and love today. I am a happily divorced single mom who remains idealistic about romance. I am amazed by all of the mind-boggling options available for dating and sex today. I am learning a lot from Lorenzo’s blogs as well as his entertaining book about G’s sexual encounters. The Table of Contents alone is tantalizing! (See below)
I recently saw the movie “What’s Your Number?” I thought it referred to the telephone. Wrong! Girlfriends in their early twenties were sharing secrets about their number of sexual partners. One young woman was horrified to discover, after slowly counting on her fingers, that her number was 19 – far above her friends. Despite her love of sex, she made a vow to keep the number under 20 until she found Mr. Right. In the end she finds him, marries him and he becomes lucky number 20!
If someone asked you what’s your number would you be truthful, proud or embarrassed? I guess a lot depends upon your age and generation. I also wonder how fast numbers increase in today’s world. My number, like my name, will remain anonymous.
Of course, your numbers will climb faster if are a tri-sexual dabbler or in a poly-amorous relationship. I was surprised to read in Lorenzo’s blog that some women often experiment with tri-sexual adventures in the hope of luring a man for themselves and then exiting the triangle.
The Internet has opened all kinds of options for relationships beyond the standard match.com, e-harmony and others. There is a website www.partimelove.com for partners looking for “less” – a relationship that doesn’t demand too much time. Married men and women openly pursue affairs on www.ashleymadison.com. Their motto is “Life is short. Have an affair.” Soon it will be easy to get lucky in the air! There will be a new app, www.wingman.com, where passengers exchange photos and flight numbers by phone to see if anyone on board stimulates their hormones!
Given all of the above, Lorenzo’s theory of the BGL, Brain Genital Law, makes a lot of sense. At first for me it was a bit of a tongue twister. I, subconsciously or not, twisted it into a new word Bragina. My definition of Bragina is a woman’s brain sending signals to her vagina where many a debate rages over decisions like, “Oh yes, yes or no, or maybe or not in a million years!”
From the male point of view, picture the famous Seinfeld episode where Jerry’s cartoon brain sits on one shoulder and his cartoon penis on the other battling to determine who will win the argument about whether to bed with a buxom sexy actress or send her home. She had a great body but was also a dingbat with an annoying nasal whiny voice. The brain won the argument which as soon regretted by lonely Jerry’s shrinking penis.
Back to the Bragina: Valentine’s Day is around the corner. That means there will be many women hoping for roses, chocolates, champagne, caviar, sparkling jewelry and a romantic evening, perhaps with a happy ending. There will also, most certainly, be many Bragina debates about what’s for dessert! Coffee, tea or me?
What would Cupid think- the god of desire and erotic love and son of the love goddess Venus? When I googled Cupid, I was directed to www.cupid.com – another site for digital romance hit by the chubby cherub’s arrow!
My Bragina is nostalgic for the romance of days gone by. And so, I am hoping for a little love and romance on the ground, not in the air, without the help of the Internet. Wish me luck!