Wednesday, September 26, 2012

I Had a Plan

I always insist on having a plan, but my senior year of college was half over and I still had no idea how to pay for law school. Sitting in my mother’s house during winter recess, I wondered if the armed forces might have a program that would fund my education. So I spent a day visiting the local recruiting offices near my home in Massapequa, NY.  The Navy recruiting office was my last stop, but like the other service branches, they had no need for lawyers. They were looking for warriors. As I was walking out the door the recruiter asked, “Hey, what’s you major?”

“Physics and philosophy,” I replied.

“Come back here and let me tell you about our nuclear power program.”

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Evolution: The Visual Ape

Men are visual creatures. When a woman enters a man’s visual field, electrical signals flood the optic nerves, lighting up synapses throughout the cerebral cortex, triggering the neck to rotate so that the eyes can lock on and commence tracking. The behavior is pure reflex, an involuntary muscle reaction, like breathing, over which men have almost no control. Most women tolerate this reaction from their men, not because they believe the common refrain that it’s okay to look but not to touch, but because they have come to realize that there is no hope of altering this behavior. Performing the movement is not without risk to the male, either from the swift backhand of a not so understanding mate, or from the serious internal injuries that can result from frequent and violent twisting of the head and neck. As my x-rays reveal, severe cases will require extensive surgery. 

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

My Secret Fantasy


I harbor a secret fantasy, but indulging it poses a serious risk to my marriage. Many men, I’m sure, face a similar dilemma, a longing to taste the forbidden fruit that brings only fleeting ecstasy and, yet, ultimately yields unending grief. Too much mental energy is wasted imagining the impossible. Too many nights I awaken in a cold sweat, unable to release the obsession that steals my sleep. Too may days are lost to wasted daydreams, contemplating how to transform my phantasmagoria into reality. Unless Kellie is willing to grant me one dispensation, I am destined to perish with this urgent desire left unsatisfied. She could let me fulfill my wildest fantasy. All she has to do is let me win just one damn argument.