One of the big cries from women is that their mates just don’t listen to them. The results of females and males not connecting verbally may be portrayed as amusing in plays like Men Are from Mars and Women Are from Venus or in TV situation comedies like Everyone Loves Raymond and the classic, All in the Family.

Comedic presentations about the inability of men and women to communicate may underplay the seriousness of the situation. To my way of thinking, making too light of the dilemma perpetuates the problem. Why change something that provides amusement? It’s easier to laugh than deal with the underlying issues.

The not-so-funny statement that “men are just little boys,” is often met with a resigned shrug, indicating acceptance. But, if we don’t question the problem, it comes with disastrous consequences. If we are not hearing the words, let alone the nuances, in the speech of a mate, it quickly diminishes the relationship and is probably at the root of many breakups. This applies to both men and women.

It comes back to the question, are the differences biological or societal? Many think it is biological and therefore impossible to change. Perhaps it is a little of both. I’m convinced that we reinforce the biological in childrearing by role training that has a far greater influence in separating the sexes. As adults we become unable to hear each other.

I maintain that because society has told men from early on that it is too “feminine” to talk about feelings, it has followed men into adulthood. Men have difficulty listening to anyone talking about feelings. If they show that they buy into a conversation that has any sort of “female” taint, their egos are diminished. By and large, not taught to be nurturers. They are encouraged to problem solve.

In “Can’t We Talk?” (condensed from: You Just Don’t Understand) by Deborah Tannen, a specialist in linguistics, she says, “…I have studied how the conversational styles of men and women differ. We cannot lump all men or all women into fixed categories. But the seemingly senseless misunderstandings that haunt our relationships can in part be explained by the different conversational rules by which men and women play.”

I think socialization must be changed before both genders fully understand each other. As adults, change is possible with a good deal of listening and some hard work. The real key is training from infancy. After all, think about all the influences that abound in society that influence men and women.

Even today we set up role definitions, for the most part, with toys – dolls and doll houses for girls and building sets for boys despite what enlightened parents say to the contrary. Even on an unconscious level there is a fear that by encouraging male children to be more sensitive there will be repercussions, either taunting by other children or the fear of making their sons gay. And, visa versa.

In toy stores we still find items separated by gender. What about all the animated characters designed for child appeal? Many of the cartoons personalities that imitate positions of authority are generally male, and those in helping positions tend be female. There are numerous other examples, but two that need highlighting are the parents that encourage young boys to win at sports at all costs. The other is the image of the strong, tough football players (male), and the less important (female) cheerleaders who are generally gorgeous, body-beautiful and sexy. Stereotyping is perpetuated.

Deborah Tannen also says, “Men grow up in a world in which a conversation is often a contest, either to achieve the upper hand or to prevent other people from pushing them around. For women, however, talking is often a way to exchange confirmation and support.”

Ms. Tannen continues. “…Since women often think in terms of closeness and support, they struggle to preserve intimacy. Men, concerned with status, tend to focus more on independence. These traits can lead women and men to starkly different views of the same situation.”

Often, the end result with this kind of societal pressure is that a man feels he’s lost power and his "entitlement" to be in command when he listens to his wife or negotiates with her on an issue. He is sometimes unwilling to give up the smallest piece of his fierce need for independence and if he does he feels like a wimp. The woman often feel overpowered and dominated – a bad recipe for a relationship. So much of this is the result of early training.

These differences leak into every aspect of relationships. After years of conditioning, many women are often still timid when it comes to sex. Often they are afraid to verbalize what they would like for fear of hurting the man’s ego or of looking too eager – hence the faked orgasm. She might hope her man will ask or voluntarily touch her in places he knows will please her rather than make a point of it.

Well, here’s the rub (not intended as a pun). Often, a woman who asks a man to bring her to a climax and enjoys returning the favor is sometimes looked upon suspiciously by some men. It’s not uncommon for a man to ask, “Where did you learn to be so hot?” Well, do I ask where you learned those tricks, mister? There is a tendency to assume that the more experience a man has, the better. It doesn’t always work that way for women. Yes, friends, these learned attitudes still exists although, I admit, it is much more subtle today.

A man once told me he won’t date women who have been single for a long time – over five years. His reasoning was she had to have been with too many men.

The first time I was asked by a man, that I was really into, where I got my varied "...knowledge of sexual stuff," I was dumbfounded. I thought we were behaving like equals. When I didn’t answer he pressed me to respond. I said that my late husband was a good teacher in the bedroom. I realized later that, even though it was the truth, I answered in a way that made me look “virginal.” Lo and behold, he asked again a week later. I got ticked off and said, “I’m a nymphomaniac, and I go with any man I can for sex.” He got it and apologized. That was a big moment.

May big moments be fruitful and multiply.

The sexy G

After I became widowed, there was lots of advice. Even unhappy couples advised me to get a partner or else I’d be looked upon as flawed or a loser. Some married friends dropped me when I became single. Those who did seemed to be only able to function as couples or else were very insecure about their husband’s faithfulness. It was as though they assumed that if a woman was single she had to be a desperate hussy out to steal her man. One woman actually warned me to stay away from her husband. What makes them think we want them?

Yes, there were major adjustments to be made, but I went on with my life and made new friends. I must say, I was surprised at which friends stepped away and who remained in my life. I can’t cry about it. It’s just wasted effort. There’s too much adventure waiting for me.It makes me wonder if there isn't some underlying resentment concerning single people having the ability to carve out a new life among those who can only socialize with couples

Some friends who are coupled, even those who have had multiple marriages, will all too frequently ask if I’m dating anyone. I have to believe they mean well, but it adds so much pressure. I have even asked friends not to inquirer about that topic, and I’d announce it the moment I became involved with anyone.

Honestly, I’d rather be alone than in a miserable relationship. We should never, ever, ever allow anyone to make us doubt our single status. Once you’ve become friendlier with yourself and found your own identity, whether attached or alone, we are ahead of the game. I’m convinced that if we don’t come to peaceful terms with our single status we won’t be capable of finding a good relationship. Only after we’ve examined our inner selves and created a fulfilling, pleasant life can we come to a relationship in a healthy way.

Those of us lucky enough to have reached an advanced age in relative good health should not allow loneliness to dominate despite not having an active social life or a nearby family. There are ways to combat loneliness. It’s a good idea to think about choices and then decide which way/s to go.

Let me make some suggestions for holidays and other times; giving back to the community or the world is a satisfying activity. So many places desperately need volunteers; children’s agencies, nursing homes, hospitals, challenged children, immigrant groups, hospital/charity gift shops, pediatric floors in hospitals, homeless shelters, shelters for abused women and children and soup kitchens. There are charities eager for help, especially at holiday time when so many employees are off.

Another approach would be to go away on a holiday, perhaps one that is already organized. Many people who are alone book tours with groups. In this way, you’ll have company to help ring in the New Year or some other holiday, and again, you’ll have the opportunity to meet new people.

There are groups that band together for celebrations at community rooms of apartment buildings, churches, synagogues, restaurants and private homes. You must seek them out. Check newspapers, supermarket bulletin boards, notes posted at your house of worship and online sites. The local Y might have organized get togethers. Ask friends if they’re having a party and if you can wangle an invitation. What about charity events or neighborhood parties? Don’t discard any invitation you might get because you’ll have to go alone. Go!

Some others attending these gatherings are in the same position as you and want to make the holidays more festive. Even if you don’t know a soul on the guest list, it’s an opportunity to meet new friends and, possibly, someone special.

If you want to stay home have a gathering yourself. Invite friends/acquaintances/relatives who might not have plans. What about neighbors who have trouble going very far? If you don’t like cooking, make it casual with sandwiches and salads. Or knock yourself out by cooking an elaborate sit-down meal.

Go into the city. Walk the streets to see the lights and window decorations. Stop in a lovely hotel and treat yourself to one of those expensive glasses of wine. And then people watch.

If you’re taking a trip, go to the airport a lot earlier. Because of numerous delays, people become bored or frustrated and are more likely to be friendly. Perhaps you’ll just want the diversion of chatting with new people from various backgrounds and places.

Of course, no matter how you plan to spend the holiday my advice is that you exercise caution about meeting strangers, especially if you’re meeting a potential date. Take their business card and, if your instinct leads you in that direction, call them yourself. You might want to establish if they’re married or not, try to check them out online, and ask others in a similar business or anyone who lives in a nearby neighborhood if they know the person. And, if, after checking them out thoroughly, you opt to meet, do it in a public place – not just for the first date. You’re all adults and I’m sure you all know how to handle a situation like that.

And if you opt to stay home and watch a DVD by yourself, don’t get one that is too sappy. A good drama, musical or comedy would be better. And just think how lucky you are that you are free and peaceful. Holiday time can be very stressful. Many families have unresolved issues and when gathered together have an opportunity to go at one another. When old grievances are revived, these confrontations have been known to erupt into fist fights on occasion.

Ideally, you can have both an active social life and, also, volunteer whether married or not. You answer only to yourself or, at least you should.

The sexy G

I was married for many years, and, just like many others, gave up a large chunk of my persona – happily, I might add. Most decisions were reached on a compromise basis. We had to answer to each other. If I stayed out later than expected, I had to call in, and I’d expect the same. It was civil and considerate.

I remained in the home where I grew up until marriage, and then joyously set up housekeeping with my husband. We raised a family, lived in the suburbs and saw our children both complete graduate school and become professionals (a doctor and a lawyer).

After becoming widowed, I lived alone for the first time in my life, and had serious doubts that I could make it. Being on my own frightened the living daylights out of me. But once adapted to an entirely new life, I found enjoyment and fun once again, but in a newly minted sort of way. I regained that chunk of myself that had gotten lost in the shuffle over many years and discovered that I was more independent than I ever thought I could be. I became good friends with my newly reintegrated personality, and found inner strength I didn’t know existed.

When I think about the possibility of a live-in or marital relationship, it’s a bit scary. Marriage at this stage of life doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense to me. As a single, older woman, I rearranged my life to seek out fun and adventures. I know I said I’m looking for the love of my life, my soul mate, and I am. That is crucial to me.

But, I wonder now if it has to mean constant togetherness. Why can’t the arrangement be that we see each other on weekends and perhaps one night during the week? There are so many things I love to do that a partner might not enjoy. I don’t want to be burdened with trying to convince him to go out with me or when I leave him to go to an event myself, feel guilty he’s at home alone. He might genuinely want me to go and enjoy myself, but something niggles behind the pleasure.

Early on in my marriage, I was happy to give up a large part of my ego. The benefits in return were great. So much of that time revolved around children and our together activities. The catch was that whenever I wanted to do something for myself, my husband smiled but gave me a slight hang-dog expression. I left for the activity with a large sliver of guilt always hovering in the back of my head. There were many activities and events that I enjoyed and he did not and visa versa. And when I did my own thing I couldn’t help feeling I was deserting him. It might have been a combination of my early upbringing of a “woman’s place” and his underlying sense of abandonment that he conveyed to me.

A year or so after widowhood, something snapped in my head. For the first time in my life, a gauzy curtain lifted from my brain. I realized that I now only had to be true to myself and then all other relationships will click in place. I became a kid in a candy shop who hadn’t had a sugar fix for years.

Now I can read books whenever I want even if it’s the middle of the night, have meals out or eat cereal for dinner, get theatre tickets at the last minute, ride a bike on city streets, and buy new, more trendy clothing and dangly earrings without the look of disapproval. I, also, discovered the depths of my sexuality and, here’s a new one for me – even had phone sex. I’m learning so many things I never experienced before, and I want to leave this world having seen and done most what is cool and exciting.

So, back to the question – if the opportunity arose for marriage what would I do? My immediate response is a resounding – don’t do it! Although there have been many liberating changes about women in recent years, there still are attitudinal issues toward the institution of marriage that is off-putting to retaining romance. Many of these problems we are not even aware of.

It seems that expectations almost instantly change when signing on the dotted line. We give our pledge to honor and obey, etc. etc. But insidious emotions may enter into the equation that take us back to our childhood. An unhappy upbringing that never is examined to determine what formed our opinions and behaviors might doom a marriage. The wife, once a lover, may after marriage become the mother, the husband perhaps the father, and then add children or blended families to the mix and we have a giant psychological muddle. We will probably make the same mistakes that our parents made. So, why would older folks want to reenter that scary arena? All the same problems may appear with the added headache of blended adult families, inheritances and long imbedded habits.

The answer may be open marriage. I hear the gasps coming from younger adults. “Open,” you say, “at an advanced age? My Granny in an open marriage? Why? You oldsters sit around and have meals together, catch the early bird special for dinner, watch the eleven o’clock news and go to sleep.” Wrong.

Here’s my mythical, mature open marriage: We each have big blocks of weekday time to ourselves. He does his thing, and I do mine. Weekends can be the time to be together, where for a short period of time I am willing to compromise and refold a part of myself inward.

Firstly, I hope he likes the same literary and cultural events that I do. If not, then I go by myself or with a friend. There’s the ritual of going to happy hour with a girlfriend, and to attending writing workshops out of town that I wouldn’t want to give up. As for platonic male friends, I shouldn’t have to give them up, either.

Open marriage often implies having other sex partners. This is not my first choice, but if some other granny and her partner agree, then who can say it's wrong? Maybe one or the other is no longer sexual or interested in being more inventive in bed. Why shouldn’t they have the same experiences open to them as a younger person? As for myself, I’ve only recently begun to realize the depths of my sensuality, and would hope it would continue with a partner. What if it doesn’t?

The advice from the medical field is for older adults to do crossword puzzles and other mental gymnastics to ward off senility and keep the mind alert. But, if you have yourself a lover/s on the side, just remembering their name/s and hearing the whispered sensual words with a hearing aid is a challenge and will keep you on the ball (speaking figuratively). In other words, using sexual situations can be a substitute if you don’t like crossword puzzles. Wonder how the medical community would look at that?

Besides, regular orgasms are considered to be healthy. As Cory Silverberg, AASECT (American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors, and Therapists), certified sex educator, author, media contributor and researcher said, “Orgasms don’t just feel great, there is preliminary research that suggests that frequent orgasms can come with all sorts of health benefits from reducing the risk of prostate cancer and heart disease to helping us deal with stress and sleeplessness.”

I do advise against one-night stands. It’s not only a health hazard, but we might not remember where it took place. Beware of forgetting which motel you might have left your hearing aid, cane, walker, teeth, leg or arm prosthesis or whatever other loose parts you may possess. Hey, just because a few parts are missing doesn’t mean you can’t have FUN!

From the sexy G

I love my grandkids with all my heart. They are the center of my universe. My two boys are four and six. They are very smart, funny and engaging. Not only can they relate humorous stories about themselves, they listen carefully and ask me questions about myself. They are pure delight. I do sometimes tell stories about the outstanding things they say and do, but I try to keep it brief.

I like to hear interesting stories about the grandchildren of friends and acquaintances. I do draw the line at listening interminably to the retelling in agonizing detail of events, cute sayings, school grades, ballet recitals and little league games. Many times, the person who drones on and on about grandchildren will give you the financial statements and acquisitions accumulated by their adult children. When the subject of children and grandkids monopolizes the conversation, I mentally withdraw even though this might be considered fitting subject matter for the mature adult.

If someone chooses to devote their lives to their children and grandchildren, that’s fine. It’s a good choice and one I’d never criticize. But when they inflict long monologues on
me, such as a blow by blow description of how a little league baseball game was won by an eight year old, or a drawn-out description of acting/musical/mathematic/scientific ability, my patience wears thin.

At times, during a grandchild treatise, I have the urge to interrupt and ask, “When was the last time you indulged in oral sex or how do you think mature sex differs from what we experienced at an earlier age?” That is kind of smart-assed, but I would just as happy to discuss novels, history, work, movies, hobbies, the war – anything other than grandkids.

I gravitate to people who have a wider range of topics – especially if they’re willing to tackle conversations not considered suitable for older folks. Not only is there a standard in our society for age appropriate dress, there is one for age appropriate subjects. This is disheartening. I resent anyone telling me what I can or can’t talk about. And, yes, I know, I know. Some subjects out of the mouths or older people, especially women, is taboo – or gag material. Get over it. We might have lost brain cells over the years, but those who survived into the later years with a new-found sense of adventure and exploration come into their mature years as ageless.

Putting the more serious discussions aside, there are many older women who speak frankly about relationships and sex in a way that I don’t recall happening very often at a younger age. I grew up in Philadelphia and at age nineteen, took a trip to Los Angeles. I met up with several young women my age and younger who talked about oral sex with boys. I nearly fell off my chair, but put a knowing smirk on my face to show I was very cool with the discussion. Truth was, it was out of the realm of my experience and I was shocked that some young women talked about it.

Now at my advanced age, rather than joining a kitting circle, I sit around with a bunch of women, talking about men who “go down” and those that don’t, and other "important" issues. For example, men with smaller penises are in greater demand. Women tend to get tighter over time and we seem to agree that a man of less girth is more welcome. So, to you men out there who have been upset about the insidious standard in our society concerning penis size, you’ll have your chance to be the preferred sexual partner – if you live long enough.

There are other changes. I’m flirtier now, wear more dramatic, revealing clothing than ever. I find more male responses to that than I did in the past when I was Ms. Earth tones. This is new for me, but I don’t think it’s looks as much as the vibrations I’m sending out. I’m more confident than I was at a younger age. Some people might call my attitude unseemly – not an uncomplimentary accusation now. My philosophy is that this is the time of life to break out – smash the conventions that kept us trapped and have a blast. I feel I have a small window of time to enjoy these wonderful new sensations, and then, if organized religions are on the right track, I’m going straight to hell without passing go.

The truth is, my sexual experiences are not numerous since widowhood, but they have greater meaning when they occur. And I find myself more passionate now when I date a man I am very attracted to. One such gentleman asked me to meet him at the door wearing a negligee. What a kick!

Sometimes these relationships haven’t worked out for me. But when the sex was good, I walked away with having learned something. For most of my life, I always lumped love/sex in the same category. They were mutually dependent. Now, I find, I have the freedom to differentiate if I choose. Good sex does not necessarily have to come with undying love. Of course, I have to like the person a lot, and there’s always the hope that the sex will be the conduit to developing that sizzling, fulfilling relationship, but if not, so be it.

From: The University of Chicago News Office --
First comprehensive national survey charts sexual behavior among older adults survey defines "typical" for those 57 to 85 August 22, 2007

“The first comprehensive national survey of sexual attitudes, behaviors and problems among older adults in the United States has found that most people ages 57 to 85 think of sexuality as an important part of life and that the frequency of sexual activity, for those who are active, declines only slightly from the 50s to the early 70s. Data from the University of Chicago’s National Social Life, Health and Aging Project (NSHAP), presented in the August 23, 2007, issue of the New England journal of Medicine, showed that many men and women remain sexually active – participating in vaginal intercourse, oral sex and masturbation – well into their 70s and 80s.”

And if you’re a naysayer to the older person leading an exciting, satisfying life, contact me. We need to talk.

The sexy G

My husband was a good guy but a poor negotiator. Whenever we moved he left the management of the project to me. A number of years ago, we built a house and I worked with the foreman. There were many instances where the man answered my questions by inferring I was just a woman and didn’t understand the complex mechanics of house building. Well, that may be true, but I wasn’t asking about how to wire a house. My questions were a bit more practical like I won’t be able to open the dishwasher because the cabinet is in the way, and how can that be rectified?

When I asked the reason why my outside air-conditioning condenser was smaller than those hooked up to houses with the same square footage as mine, the foreman laughed and told me it was an engineering problem and that size was irrelevant. All units carried the same voltage/horse power and that was what counted. What would a lowly women know about that sort of thing? I slinked away, my tail between my legs, totally embarrassed.

The next day, on a whim, I went outside and checked those statistics written right on the units. Lo and behold, mine were less. Of course, I got him to make the change. He was not pleased, to say the least.

After four months of going back and forth on many issues, I told him I had to run something by my husband. The man looked at me like I’d gone berserk.

“I didn’t know you were married,” he said.

Would he have acted differently had my husband been working with him? I think so. Now, in my new place whenever I ask the contractor to come in to finish a certain job he smiles, nods and doesn’t show up or gives me an hour or two here and there. I became so discouraged that my son came in and built a closet for me. He told the contractor to come in the next day to finish some parts of it. The contractor not only showed up, he but stayed four hours – a miracle. Why couldn't I have as much influence?

Over the years, I sometimes resented having the full responsibility of dealing with people who provided services. But, it did put me at an advantage when my husband passed away. I wasn’t exactly naïve even though I did make mistakes. Overall, my semi-awareness worked well. But, as a woman, I had to soft peddle any confrontations. Speaking loudly or demanding that mistakes be fixed, inevitably brought that certain look from men. Sometimes, I’d even hear the under-breath mumblings, accusing me of breaking balls. Deep down, it touched a nerve – pushy women were unattractive. It made me feel very uncomfortable, despite my independence.

When I had to fire anyone taking advantage of me, I’d gently say we had a personality differences instead of telling them outright they were incompetent or criminally trying to rip me off.

Once I was widowed, experts appeared from under rocks, tryng to take advantage of me -- a WOMAN ALONE.

For instance, my husband’s friend, whom he hired to help with finances and business matters had never charged him for phone calls nor billed hourly. That changed when my husband got sick. When I took over the finances, our costs for the friend's services more than doubled. If I knew he’d charge me for phone calls, I’d have never spent the time asking about his wife and kids – something that took up half the conversation.

I went along with the new unspoken rules. But the shenanigans continued. He insisted on reviewing my entire estate that had just been updated by an estate attorney. After the review, he said it was vital I see another attorney of his choosing who could put my financial house in order much better than it was. I still, foolishly, trusted him.

A meeting was arranged with the new attorney, and I was told my will needed several important elements that were missing. It would cost me $5000.00. I was floored by this amount since I’d just paid dearly for the will to be redone.

I went home and read the will myself, something, I’m ashamed to say, I hadn’t done before. Buried under the legal language I found that the elements the lawyer told me I needed had already been included. I complained to my friend, the one who had brought me to this lawyer. He had the nerve to tell me I misheard the whole thing.

“Women don’t understand complex financing,” he had said.

That might be so, but when I hear a dollar amount, I understand that quite clearly. He then told me it would only cost $1800 for another missing piece. But that, too, was contained in my will. I very nicely told him to kiss his ass goodbye. He then delivered a walloping bill to me for his time. I, not so nicely, sent him half the amount. I’ve never seen him since.

Would he have tried this with my husband? Maybe. But I think he believed I was an easier target. The upbeat note in all this was another advisor my husband occasionally used came through for me. He helped me through the maze – and the business of dying. And, it is a business. In the midst of grieving, you’re asked to know and follow all the government rules, regulations and red tape associated with death, or pay an expensive lawyer to do it for you.

We have this ever growing population of WOMEN ALONE. Women still live longer than men. Some of these women have never lived by themselves. When we are thrust into having to deal with experts who can make or break you, it’s easy to feel thrown to the wolves. And, many times, that is the case.

I urge women (and men whose wives take care of the finances) to participate. I still don’t fully understand all the ins and outs of what is required in these instances, but I hope I've learned enough to let the advisors know I am watching them with enough knowledge to be half a step behind them.

From the sexy G -- even though this piece is not so sexy. Hey, who knows? Maybe the experts will think it’s sexy when you come prepared.

Crossing state lines is a bureaucratic nightmare. There is a driver’s license to change which is nearly an all-day affair. If you find yourself in a similar situation, bring your lunch, snack, liquids and book of jokes so you don’t cry. I have yet to approach changing my license plates because I needed my new driver’s license first. Shockingly, to transfer my car plates, I have to find a notary. Why the license plate change can’t be done as a part of the division of motor vehicles is something I can’t understand. After I do that, I have to take the old New Jersey plates back to the DMV in person.

As for the move itself, it went something like a nightmare. Besides the onslaught of months of packing and unpacking, I was plagued by mechanical issues in the place. I can’t help thinking that some of the interminable slowness all around me was sometimes a function of being a woman alone. The apartment I bought in Center City needed lots of work. My dear contractor, who is very nice, informative and quite good at his craft, just didn’t get it done on time. I think he didn’t take me seriously or other people bugged him more so that got their work done before me. And now that I’ve moved, all the work is being done around me.

The story in short is that I didn’t want to get on my contractor’s back during the process although I saw an empty shell for a long time with little to no progress. He told me (implied that women especially don’t understand these things), he was very busy doing wiring and “stuff” in that long fallow period. Well, I didn’t exactly camp out at the apartment, but I spent days on end in that empty void, measuring and sketching layouts for furniture days and no workmen appeared.

Being a woman who didn’t understand had nothing to do with the fact he didn’t need four months for simple wiring adjustments in a moderate sized apartment that had been in usable condition by other owners for at least 40 years. But I reigned my thoughts in because I didn’t want to act too tough, didn’t want to be called a ball-breaker as has happened in the past when I disagreed with men and opened my mouth about it.

I admit I made a giant mistake by my “feminine” performance. I should have broken some balls instead of being the passive woman of the house. I finally did start to press the workmen and got some action! But I waited too long to get into the act.

When the day of reckoning arrived, I moved a month after the promised day of completion, and still, the place was no where near finished. I moved in without a working toilet and shower not to mention a non-usable kitchen. Bless my friends who offered their homes to me.My fortitude was tested, and I found myself not nearly as resilient as I thought I was. I imploded, but I got attention. I, as they say, grew a pair of brass ones and started making demands.

I found out that the most frequently used word is, “later” which translates into weeks or months. When the handymen laughed at my requests for items that needed fixing and told me things would be done later, I freaked. It worked. They returned in minutes with the proper tools. I hate myself when I do that, but I must admit it often works. Deep inside, being aggressive seems to be against my nature. It probably dates back to a time when I needed everyone to like me and women just didn’t want to appear bitchy for fear of losing their femininity. But, I have found, it’s really assertiveness that needs to be called upon in situations like this or you’re at the bottom of the pack.

“And what is your name?” “Who is the supervisor, manager, president of your company?” Those are phrases that don’t always work, but when I’m told that what I’m reporting as a problem never happened to anyone else and nothing can be done about it, those questions are my only weapons. Once in a while it gets someone’s attention.

I have a confession to make. In truly desperate times I have used, not often, drastic measures. For example, one time the state of New Jersey refused to renew my car registration because my car was reported stolen. I was driving it every day. How could it have been stolen? My township had no theft report and no one in motor vehicles would or could help me. I did something that, at one time, I would have called a despicable. I used the widow card.

It goes something like this, “Help, me. I’m a widow and all alone.” Even though it's true, and I'm at the end of my rope, I’m very reluctant to ever say this and have to be in a near life or death situation. It reminds me of the ad when the woman falls down and cries for help. I was once amused by that ad. Not anymore. Well, after stating my circumstances, someone in middle management actually took the time to check for a theft report and got back to me saying it was all a mistake. I was then, and only then, able to renew my car registration.

The time the widow card didn’t work was after my husband had a stroke and we willingly told the state he should no longer drive. They notified us of his loss of a driver’s license, and then I found out I could not get insurance. The reason was, we never turned in the actual card. In the aftermath of his serious illness, his license got lost. Not one soul at every state or department level could help me. I spent days on the phone and ran to the main Motor Vehicles Division, crying and begging for an answer. I even called politicians.

As long as I didn’t produce the actual card, I could not get insurance. I lived in the suburbs with a sick husband. How could I not drive? What about the multiple doctor appointments each week, not to mention that I needed a car to buy even a quart of milk.

Just as I was about to run out into the streets screaming, I found it. What would have happened had I not come upon the license, accidentally, underneath a dresser? I can’t tell you how that tale would have ended.

Now that I’m on a roll, in my next blog I’d like to relay some of the experiences I’ve had once I took over our finances that my husband always handled. It might help women who suddenly find themselves alone with the responsibility of running everything by themselves.

From the sexy G. (Honestly, I’m not feeling like the sexy G at the moment. We all have our moments, don’t we? Maybe next time). I think I soon need to get back to thoughts about fun things.

I’ve just completed and submitted a profile for an online dating service. I want it known that I am a woman who wants a man who is not afraid to be vulnerable, who will put his emotions out there and take a risk. It’s clear in the ad I don’t want a macho man, but rather a sensitive soul in touch with his feminine side.

“Woman seeking a man who can relate to a female in an emotionally in-depth way, not afraid to show his fears, needs, insecurities, hopes and goals – or anything he may choose to tell me. He must be capable of listening. I don’t want anyone who hides his emotions behind a façade of a tough male, workaholism, intellectualism, alcohol/drugs, sacrificial victim, fame, wealth or any one of dozens of artificial barriers to a soul-searing relationship. He must want to dig into the bed rock of our inner lives. As for myself, I love walking, biking, hiking, reading novels, local and world news, picnics, candlelight dining, and cultural events (don’t forget the proverbial walks on the beach). In the area of music my tastes are varied. I appreciate jazz, classical, blues, gospel and even country western. Sensuality (after establishing a friendship) and bathing together occasionally is required. In the realm of physical appearances, I’m flexible up to a point. But he must not have dandruff all over a dark blazer. I never need to know if you use a stool softener.”

The first caller is a big surprise. It’s John Wayne, the symbol of machismo.

I know the persona this man projects is cowboy macho, along with the vague impression that women are an accessory in a man’s world. But there is something electric about his voice, and the way it gently abrades my skin and curls around me – not at all like the tough talking dude in the movies. His voice puts me in mind of a man with large, calloused hands who is asked to thread a needle. John is very polite and tells me he’s looking for a special woman, and I ask him why a man in his position finds it necessary to look for a woman on the internet.

"Glad you asked that question, ma’am. To be frank, I’m tired of the Hollywood types. They’re too high-pressured for me. I’m not the kind of guy you see on the screen. The hype of the super masculine man has dogged me all my working life. Besides, I was happy to see you like country western music. Why don’t you give me a chance?”

Did he say give him a chance? Wow. What a humble guy.

“You see,” he said, a slight drawl to his speech, “I’m kind of a sensitive guy, a one-woman man who has become famous on a misconception about who I am. I’ve had to live this life even outside of the studio. My reputation would be down the tubes if I acted like a man who expressed his feelings, fears and discussed relationships. Some women are attracted to bad-boys and lots of men need to relate to that made-up version of myself. That’s why I got excited when I read your ad. It called to me. So, how about we get together?”

Could I say no? I had to take this to the limit. He said he’d fly to Philadelphia for the weekend, and we could meet in the lobby of his hotel for a drink and dinner. He really wanted to get to know me, and he liked my picture because I looked down-home, and he swore that he’s through with female Hollywood types. He said he loved to walk on the beach with a fun-loving intelligent lady. WOW!!

I worry about dressing because he’s looking to meet someone down-to-earth and the sexy, low-cut, black frock I had in mind might be too provocative. I agonize about whether he likes that curious mixture of simple but sensuous or a dowdier earth tone look.

Finally, I settle on a red, cotton, high waist and high neck dress. The outfit is a bit frumpy, but overall, it makes a nice showing. Maybe frumpy is good – after all there was no time for glamour on the prairie. I buy a cute silver bracelet with ten, tiny, hanging horses.

The big day arrives. I am so excited. At the bar of The Four Seasons Hotel, I order a dirty vodka martini straight up and then worry about the wisdom of possibly slurring when the man walks in. I change the order to a glass of wine. John calls on his cell to let me know he is outside the hotel.

A tall, handsome, rugged man strides across the room. He doesn’t look right or left, but instead, right at me. Can he possible recognize me from my picture? As he gets closer, my heart races. What a gorgeous hunk!

“Fran,” he calls out, approaching me. “Say, gal. You sure look dandy in red. Seeing you makes the flight worthwhile. After all, gas is pretty darn expensive for those private planes.” He was immaculate in neatly pressed jeans, a blue oxford shirt and a navy blazer.

“Mr. Wayne. It’s a pleasure.”

“Please call me John.”

He orders a glass of milk and downs it in one gulp. He looks at me tenderly, a white moustache on his upper lip. I want to hug him.

“Well, Fran. What do you want to do? Want to grab a bite?”

“That would be fine.”

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Franny, girl.”

That sweet man grabs me by the hand and leads me out the door? A black limousine sits at the curb. Soon, we’re on our way to the shore. When we arrive, we trudge down to the beach. Pulling off our shoes, we walk, hand in hand, along the shoreline, tiny waves lapping at our feet. He's asking me questions about myself when I look back over my shoulder and see that the chauffeur has spread a blanket on the sand and is putting out plates, casseroles dishes and a champagne bucket. What bliss.

The moral of the story? Don’t judge a horse by the rider.

He’s right, but he might have been implying, you don’t dress appropriately for your age. I once was an earth-tone person with high necks collars because I wanted to be liked for my brain. Now, I say, screw the brain. Smarts don’t elicit the least bit of attention unless I’m helping someone with writing.

I hope, dear readers, you won’t accuse me of backtracking on one of my most ardent topics – equality among the sexes. All I can tell you is that what started as an experiment in my new dress code has become an addiction.

Now I dress in brighter colors, lots of skirts and wear lower necklines. At first I wanted to see how much attention it would elicit from the male population. It worked. Now I’ve become the female version of a peacock. This is the question; is it really possible that if one is ripe for a great romantic love, signals are sent out? Is it body language, a scent or simply shorter skirts and deeper necklines? Is it the sweeping view of the rounded tops of breasts (thanks to Victoria’s Secret push-me up bras) that a man sees from a higher vantage point? Unlike many species of the animal kingdom, with humans it is generally up to the woman to strut her stuff to attract the opposite sex.

I actually got to like looking “feminine” but never resorted to coy game-playing, something repellent to me. When I think about it, I realize I’m not looking to capture a man as much as I might enjoy the occasional stare or surreptitious glances.

What makes this ironic is that even though women may fuss to look glamorous, single, mature men often are potbellied, uncoordinated in dress, use colors that blind, cut their hair with a weed whacker and sometimes smell stale from not washing clothing frequently enough or properly. They may even be rude, cheap, or say inappropriate things, but they’ll always find women willing to go out with them because there are many more women than men.

Besides my more flamboyant dress, I think writing this blog has greatly unleashed a part of me that I didn’t know existed. Somehow, putting myself out there with the written word freed me up from the earth tone prison. Those colors tend to be inhibiting when worn to excess and may fade the wearer into the background.

So, what’s the moral lesson here? It’s never too late to be sexy? Is it that men think you’re easy when you dress more dramatically? Perhaps it’s more that men are suckers for a little cleavage – they’ll follow those melons like a starving man following the scent of food. It is possible to be sexy in the upper reaches of age.

My conversations in mixed company are now laced with the kind of humor and personal observations on romance I sometimes spew in my writing. This could be alluring to some men or a turn off for others. Perhaps this is what they mean by a sexual scent or does it come down to plain old tits and ass.

Some months back, my squeeze at the time was man we’ll call Jackson. We’d been going out for four months. He was smooth, urbane and, on the surface, pleasant, but not forthcoming emotionally. He had erected a barrier around his emotions and he ran on one low-key emotional gear. Everything in his world was perfect. No need to ever have an in-depth conversation.

He was an intelligent man, and I expected that he’d ultimately come through, reveal the inner person, (fears, hopes, goals, what made him happy/sad – you know the drill) and declare he was dying to know more about the inner me. I’d suggested enough times that this is what helps make a relationship go from blah to dynamic. When he laughed at the silly notion of getting into the deepest recesses of our hidden selves, I decided to give him a little more time. He was smart, he’d come around.

One day he called. “Hi,” Jackson said. “Happy almost birthday. It’s next Saturday, huh?”

I was delighted he remembered. “Right, and it feels as though I had one three months ago.”

Jackson laughed. “Hey, I can’t see you that night.”

My stomach crunched. “Why not?”

“Well, I have a brunch with relatives the morning of your birthday.”

Silence. So what about later in the day? “I don’t mind going out later.”

“My relatives are funny. Got to stay loose. They might want me to stay through the evening. How could I tell them I can’t stay?”

Read my lips. “Say, it’s my girlfriend’s birthday, and I’m taking her out tonight.” I would think that’s appropriate in view of the fact he was going to be with them from eleven AM until five or six PM? “Eight would be fine. They didn’t make a definite plan with you for later in the day.”

“No, but you never know if they’ll ask. Sorry, that’s how I like to do it.”
Bang. I hung up. Is it about control, that he’s telling me he sets the rules or is it just plain rudeness? It could even be the need to keep intimacy at arm’s length or all of the above. In my head I heard him say, “That bitch will never dictate how I spend my time.” I gathered myself together and moved on.

I admit there is a comedic aspect to it all, and the fun of strutting cleavage and bright colors are not enough to carry a relationship through. In the end, it all comes down to a person’s inner attractiveness, self-awareness and the ability to reveal themselves and not be terrified of being vulnerable.

Paige Parker, author of an e-book called, Dating Without Drama, said this: “The key to a successful love life isn’t being lucky enough to find the ‘perfect’ man. The answer to having the fulfilling relationship you’ve always wanted is actually within you. Trust me…this is good news! It means you actually have a lot more control over the outcome of your dating life than you may have realized. Instead of trusting your fate to your love horoscope or wishing on a star, you can harness your own intelligence, strength and confidence and utilize those attributes to get the love you deserve.”

I need to go inward as far as possible to learn more about myself. Given that, maybe I’ll have a better shot at identifying the elusive, soulful, caring, nurturing male I would like. No one outside of myself can make me happy. Only I can do that for myself. If I allow others to bring me down, shame on me.

Sexy G

I e-mailed each of them back and asked for a definition of those terms. I was curious because it has to have different meanings to each person. I never got a response from any of my requests. Maybe they assumed that if I didn’t know what they meant, I must be one of those aggressive ball-busters.

The following quote comes from an essay by Maureen Dowd, columnist for The New York Times, adapted from her book published in 2005, “Are Men Necessary: When Sexes Collide.” She had this to say; “Decades after the feminist movement promised equality with men, it was becoming increasingly apparent that many women would have to brush up on the venerable tricks of the trade: an absurdly charming little laugh, a pert toss of the head, an air of saucy triumph, dewy eyes and a full knowledge of music, drawing, elegant note writing and geography. It would once more be considered captivating to lie on a chaise lounge, pass a lacy handkerchief across the eyelids and complain of a case of springtime giddiness.

“Today, women have gone back to hunting their quarry – in person and in cyberspace – with elaborate schemes designed to allow the deluded creatures to think they are the hunters.”

These issues raise many conflicting approaches leave single people in an utter state of exhaustion. Read the personal ads and you’ll frequently see the request for no game-playing. Yet, here we are in an era where there’s so much advice for women in how to plan and hatch plots to catch a man

So, it seems we have made a complete circle. Just when we thought women had gained their dignity and didn’t have to pursue men by manipulation and feminine wiles, we are brought up short and told that doesn’t cut it. Is it true that, by and large, men just don’t care about falling for a woman on a level playing field?

Maureen Dowd continued, “…The Way to approach men, we reasoned, was forthrightly and without games, artifice or frills. Unfortunately, history has shown this to be a misguided notion.”

I recently read a sales pitch for a book where the premise encourages women to give men what the author thinks they want. He suggested men want to be adored by a woman, hypnotized and bedazzled by her charm. Men will be under her control by her manipulations and powerless to resist. A woman’s responsibility is to make her man happy. Sadly, there are many books that have surfaced in recent years with the same message.

I ask you, how does a woman make a man happy? It seems that real happiness can only come from within an individual. Many times over the years, I’ve heard men complain that their mates don’t make them happy. Some even walked out of their marriage for that reason.

In many instances, I realized several of those men were not happy people to begin with. It’s not possible for anyone to serve up joy to a mate who is essentially joyless. It is necessary to examine ourselves and come to terms with our past before we can find happiness. Each person must do that before judging their mate’s value. They might have a different perspective if hey do. Sometimes it requires the help of a counselor.

On a deeper level, those complaining may be even be depressed. To blame your partner is taking the easy way out because it doesn’t require introspection. Pointing the finger takes the heat off of themselves. It is not unusual for man or woman to go into a relationship expecting a partner to solve all of their personal problems for them rather than doing the hard work of discovering insights about themselves and coming to terms with the root causes.

The initial burst of dazzle in the early stages of a romance helps mask the symptoms of depression. But when the relationship mellows and the sizzle reduces to a slow simmer, the sadness that went on hold before reappears. Rather than rising to another level, many choose to ignore the underlying problems that need to be faced and look for external causes.

In recent years, numerous books and web sites have popped up suggesting ways for woman to approach and handle dating situations. Why do women need to be guided? It seems being yourself, expressing who you are and being honest are the approaches women should pursue. These new publications have resurected a language from the past.

Elaine Sihera, a Personal Empowerment Relationship Consultant has this to say, “…Gradually women have been gaining parity with men over the last 30 years and have taken charge of their own lives. They no longer depend on men to dictate the direction of their lives and are enjoying the new freedoms such parity brings. In the process, men have begun to feel very insecure and wary of women. With their own jobs, their own
money, their own house and the desire to remain single until they choose, or forever women have moved the goal posts, changed the relationship culture and relegated men to a different level of uncertainty.”

What does this mean in the scheme of present-day dating and relationships? It has to have serious impact. From my own observations, of all ages but especially with older men, these insecurities create destructive fissures in relationships. Sadly, it seems the dating scene has regressed and returned to a pre-feminist mind set. We are losing ground to the movement toward equality between men and women.

Sihera continues, “…finally, lots of men would like someone intelligent but many also add that they should not be too intellectual! They feel inadequate squaring up to an intellectual female because women used to be seen and not heard. They really can’t handle the woman who thinks too much. Yet, tons of women are moving into higher education and getting professional qualifications in order to choose their own career direction so they would want to use the intellectual clout this would give them. Women have been accused of playing men at their own game with one night stands, so even sex is being controlled to a great extent by women.

“Older men, in particular those over 50, are finding this new world very difficult to deal with. Having been brought up to be ‘gentlemen’ in a world which is gradually rejecting such gentlemen they feel useless and undervalued. The definition of a ‘lady’ shares very little with that of current ladies and many men find themselves at sea without a paddle when looking for a new mate. In fact, many of them complain about the ‘brashness’ of modern ladies who are not afraid to ask for what they want and don’t wait to be given it. Many of these men cannot deal with the women’s approach to sex, especially when as the dominant gender, men used to lead on things sexual.”

Where exactly does this regressive trend leave us? It doesn’t look good. Schisms, lack of communication, fear, resistance to change all contribute to leaving men and women in different spheres unnecessarily. We MUST break down the barriers that prevent understanding the changes that have taken place and, hopefully, will continue. There must be equality and acceptance of the new roles of men and women, despite an outdated, dishonest trend that is creeping back into our lives.

Sexy G

If role playing occurs in a healthy manner, and we are aware of the different personalities contained within ourselves, then we can deal well with the different personalities. We struggle with who we really are vs. the mask we put on for the public. When unaware of these issues, the results can be devastating. We enter a life-long fight to maintain the facade of the person who we think we are, the one who wants to impress the world.

It is an everyday struggle that might barely be in our perceptions, but is capable of draining spontaneity, humor and warmth. This kind of effort can desensitive a human to the point where they are so emotionally cutoff they become robotic. It can take a superhuman effort to maintain an public image that has been designed by society.

When is this outside persona dangerous? If we don't question the prescribed modes of behavior that society imposes on us, we can be in serious trouble. The images begin the wiring process from a very early age. Our parents, teachers, religious leaders, employers and just about every institutions have input into our lives.

Not all prescribed behaviors are bad. We learn manners, tact, civility and superficial ways of connecting socially. It gets us through many situatons.

Little boys are especially prey to these forced roles. Society prohibits boys from showing emotion or they will be called wimps. Because there is a deep-rooted fear that boys who identify with their mothers in any way shape or form will become gay, they are pressured to be "tough" and never cry. How ludicrous.

There are many aspects of females, that when adopted by men, make them more secure and free, much more able to make friends with women and themselves. Without that sensitization, relationships with men of that ilk are probably doomed to fail or likely to produce unhappy relationships.

Men will never understand women if they are not allowed to take a fearless look at female behavior and duplicate some of what they see. Maintaining a force-fed persona creates adult men who are totally cut off from feelings and ultimately the human race. They have no ability to display feelings, reveal themselves, laugh at their own foibles and they live in fear they will appear wimpy.

Of course, little girls are encouraged to nurture and play with dolls, despite parents swearing they present all sides of the picture. Thank goodness this is changing because of the real world. Women finally realize they need careers even if they make less than a man for the same work.

Because women are in the workforce in droves, they can identify with masculine characteristics without fear, but if they are too aggressive, they will be accused of needing to get laid or of being Lesbians. But when they, too, absorb society's created roles without question, they suffer, as well. Often they pray to meet a sensitive man who displays a femine side, but run the other way when face to face with one as a potential mate. They might never realize they are slaves to images imposed from childhood. That honest male who is in touch with his femine side faces ridcule and social ostracism.

So, these facades stay with us until way into adulthood. Even men who are truly sensitive underneath, when they gather in groups, feel they must act like macho dunces.

Aside from gender roles, society imposes rigid rules for behavior on all levels; wealth, religion, social status, economic status, educational status and many others. To be successful is the dominant theme and men who don't reach the levels dictated by society are made to feel emasculated which can lead to depression, acting out, and even physical illness.

We fear losing control because we might reveal who we really are. We hide beneath masks plastered to our faces. Fear prevents internal exploration so we never discover the real reasons we are unhappy, and we walk around repressed, angry and unsure of the next step.

As adults, we should question images not of our making, those that have been grooved into our brains from infancy. We need to pick and choose the ones that make a good fit and discard those that leave us lifeless. It may make us happy and might help in getting to like ourselves.

Release the buried emotions. If you are honest and straight about who you are, you might be pleasantly surprised and gratified. The real you can command respect and you might regain lost precious emotions that are healing to the psyche. It might come as a big relief when you shed heavy layers of skin and uncover the buried treasure of the real you!

Sexy G (as fellow blogger Jill calls me)

This every penny down the line concept can produce another set of problems. Once when I was out with a couple the man picked up my bill. When I thanked him, his partner nastily said I should thank her. Although it was his decision, she paid for half, and obviously didn't want to pay for me. He made the decision unilaterally although he wasn't free to do that.

In another situation, the man made far more than the woman and she resented paying half when she was struggling economically. But he insisted on each kicking in. Sometimes she paid more than half. When you factor in that women make less than a man for a comparable job, you might want to change the rules a bit. If you don't, it will inevitably have an impact on every aspect of a relationship, including the bedroom.

How about the man who borrows money from a woman and doesn't pay it back because he feels he's paying for her dinners so he deserves it. All of these occurances dredge up unpleasant feelings. When friends of the same sex go out, usually no one pays attention to who ordered a more expensive dish or who had an extra drink. The bill is equally divided. Why is there such a big fuss with couples worrying about who paid more?

There was a man I dated who lived in another nearby city. He wanted to become more intimate and I liked him. He asked if I could come visit and stay at a hotel. For various complicated reasons, I could not stay with him at his home. He did not offer to pay the hotel bill. At the time, I didn't think that was unfair so I arranged to attend a conference. It was quite expensive, but I thought the effort worthwhile. We had a lovely time, and he wanted to see me again.

I agreed and we continued our conversations via telephone and e-mailing. I enjoyed his intelligence. We began to include some phone sex. This was a first for me and, I have to say, it's was quite a lot of fun to do it wiht someone you like.

Things were heating up between us. Time passed and he made no offer to arrange for my hotel, but he continued to press me for a date to visit. Finally, I said it was his turn to pay for the hotel. There was a long silence and nothing said. We hung up and, naturally, I began to see a cheap side. It bothered me that I had to even ask.

I said nothing about coming in after that and he finally asked me to split the cost. When I balked because I'd paid the entire bill myself the last time, he said, "Oh, well. You attended a conference. You got more out of it." He also wanted me to telephone him from that point on so he could save his minutes. That makes me wonder about why he needs to save his minutes and for whom? You have to understand that this man was wealthy with a fabulous job.

Yikes!! After a few more conversations, I saw that chintzy people have chintzy emotions. I no longer wanted to see him. One must try to project what kind of effect that behavior has on the other person. The anger will come out sooner or later and sometimes for the wrong reasons.

Here's my idea. Let the man pay for all or most of the dinners out along with the cost of entertainment. It's so much more romantic with a lot less resentment and causes for stress. This can be evened out by a woman cooking dinners. One night eat out and the next two or three nights, eat in -- prepared and paid for by the woman. And/or she may occassionally pick up the check in a restaurant, buy an occasional ticket to whatever he enjoys, be it a sporting event or the orchestra. There is always a lovely little present she can buy to say thank you.

Will it come out even? Perhaps not. But ir you get all uptight about it the romance will go out the window? At the end of a year, maybe the man paid a couple of hundred more. Is it worth fussing about it? Remember, cheap men will get cheap sex. It's a cheap price to pay of adoration, love, caring and loyalty.

I invite your opinions on this ticklish problem. Look for the comment button below each blog on the right hand side and give me your take.

The sexy grandmom

Let me introduce myself to you, Nora. I am one of those idiots who extol some of the joys of getting older. I’m a couple of years older than you and widowed. I found the mature dating scene rather bleak and it became an impetus to writing about it. My opinions are spelled out seriously/humorously/fictionally on the blog I write for Wild River Review. I write about the problems between men and women and how they can be improved. Much of it applies to all ages.

I admit there are many down sides to getting older, and many unpleasant aspects in the process., but, in my delirium, I find much that’s advantageous. As for mature sex, I have difficulty finding a considerate lover, but the occasional good one is so much fun. I am far more uninhibited now. Today, I can indulge in sex openly without the taboos of yesteryear where women developed “bad reputations.” That label was like wearing a scarlet letter. I was told from an early age on that that the only way to snag a good husband was to remain a virgin until marriage. That caused a lot of sexual repression and fear in me. I had to work hard at exorcising that kind of built-in neurosis over they years.

Now, having become a woman of a certain age, I don’t give a damn what they call me. They can say I’m a slut. At this stage, that’s a compliment. Sadly, I haven’t had as many sexual encounters as I’d have liked because there is a dearth of men who have emotional appeal. I do need that before jumping into bed. The truth is, I’m still waiting for a true soulmate lover. That desire has not diminished with age. I heartily believe in romance and, hopefully, one day it will happen.

Should I be careful about what I wish for? Perhaps, but I don’t worry about bad decisions either. Making a mistake in choosing a romantic interest is no longer of much consequence. I’m not concerned about a future with marriage and a picket fence. I’m into the now, this minute. If it’s not right, then I extricate myself and am free to move on.

For me, getting older has allowed me to find my stride. As a child and through my adult life, I kept reinventing myself to please whomever I admired or those who had some measure of control over my future. Whether I became friendly with the parents of the children my kids played with or entertained associates and the powers connected with my husband’s career, I spent a lot of years being someone else. Now, I answer only to myself (kids and grandkids excluded). I am fucking free!!

Over the years, I have divested myself of people I thought to be bleeding me emotionally. By making these changes, my head and time are cleared to do the things I love; visiting grandkids, reading, seeing friends, going to the theater, entertaining myself, traveling, playing tennis, writing and more writing. Constant complainers, narcissists and mean gossips stay away from my door.

I now feel empowered to be myself and to confront problematic issues instead of internalizing them which I did for many years for fear of making people angry at me. At this juncture in my life, I don’t care who likes me or not. My friends will remain my friends and the others are meant to go by the wayside.

I’m much more cognizant of how precious time is and try hard to utilize it better then I did at a younger age. I pissed away a lot of time over they years, time that I wish I could have back. So, now each minute of work/play is harvested with greater care, like full-bodied grapes that have the potential to make excellent wine.

Nora, I think you are glamorous and beautiful (No, I’m not going to ask you out on a date). As for myself, I now take much better care, apply more cosmetics, and I think I look better than I once did. Back then I ran around raising children, went back to school, was in charge of the household, helped my husband’s career on a grand scale and dealt with people, some of whom drained me. I think I was more haggard and had less time to pamper myself.

I go to the beauty parlor more often, but don’t spend a lot of money on face creams and such. For years, I’ve used mineral oil on my face. It costs around a couple of bucks a bottle and lasts forever because you can’t slather it on. I horrify the woman who occasionally gives me a facial. She thinks it will clog my pores. I’ve been using it for twenty years and no zits. My big extravagance is Retin-A which costs more but is still relatively inexpensive – well under a hundred bucks a tube.

Also, we can whiten our coffee-stained teeth easily. My mother at forty looked more matronly and older than I do at sixty plus. And our generation lives longer with more quality of life than our parents. I walk two to three miles a day, can trek a couple of miles of the San Francisco hills, play vigorous tennis, ride a bike and work out (sometimes). It’s more than I did at an earlier age. Maybe I’ll drop dead in my sleep, but right now, I’m having a blast.

I used to think clothing unimportant, so sure people would like me for my mind. HA! What a crock. Today, I wear shorter dresses, skirts more often, lower necklines and more trendy clothing. I actually get more looks from men now then I did before (never realized how far cleavage can go). So what if it’s all a façade. Feeling good is my goal in life or else I don't do it unless absolutely necessary. I have choices that I now make for myself.

I grew up very poor and money was always an issue. I used to worry a lot about what might happen to me in the future. Will I be comfortable financially (yes), how will my kids turn out (fabulous – daughter a lawyer and son a doctor) and will I have adorable, wonderful, smart grandkids (yes!).

That gives me a big sense of relief, and I pray hard that it will continue. In essence, the future has happened. I could commit suicide about that concept, but I’m too curious to see how the rest plays out.

As for a bikini – never wore one before and don’t worry about it now. The younger people I hang out with, mostly in the arts, don’t give a rat’s ass about age. They are mentally stimulating and invigorating. They give off a vibrating energy that I absorb and apply to my own life, and I try to do the same in return. I’m not referring to the wisdom gained by the time mature years are reached, but rather an exchange of information, humor, wit and fun (and wine, too). Screw wisdom.

We look at younger women who are in their prime and, believe it or not, they might be envying us – not that they want to be older, but rather they envy that we’re basically finished with the nightmares they’re encountering. Younger people are still struggling with relationships, bad marriages, the devastation of divorce, single parenthood, children with problems, aging parents and all kinds of dating issues. Sometimes, they wish for the time to pass more quickly to get over the humps. For younger people, being coupled is more important. They have many struggles to contend with and having a partner sometimes eases stress. My life is fulfilled. Being with a terrific man would be wonderful, but I can live quite pleasantly without the pleasure of a partner. There are other enjoyable activities that single people can reach for.

Granted, we do have a limited window of time on this earth. But, I breathe a sigh of relief every time I leave a funeral – it’s not me this time. And, yes, friends around us are getting ill and dealing with physical problems. But as long as this body and mind work, I’m going to drain the life out of what is out there just for the picking.

The sexy grandmom

Scenario 1: Some older man might experience some difficulty in getting an erection. So, let’s assume that task is accomplished. Now, in view of the news about increasing rates of HIV/AIDS among the eldery, his partner asks him to use a condom. It might be something he hasn’t done for a very long time, or he might have hand tremors. Certainly, he isn’t as agile as he once was. Slowly, he attempts to put the condom on. By the time he’s finished, he might have lost his erection. Now he needs to be aroused again. By that time his partner, who missed her afternoon nap, falls asleep.

Scenario 2: Another elder gentleman thinks it might be more exciting for his partner to put the condom on for him. That way, he will not need to be aroused a second time. They can get started as soon more quickly.

Never in the woman’s forty-five years of marriage did she use one. In earlier times, she used an IUD and then jumped to the pill (married women of her era usually took care of protection). Being a kind person, and curious she agrees. She is also interested in having good sex which he assures her is about to happen. But, she is deaf, and for this event she has taken out both hearing aids. He hands her the condom and waits with an eager smile on his lips.

"Okay, I’m ready for you,” he says. “Just unroll it as you go. Now put it on.”

“Put it where?” she asks.

“Can’t you hear?” he responds.

“In your ear?”

Scenario 3: A man has just entered a nursing home and he immediately falls in love with a lovely white-haired woman. She falls for him, too. He’s been a widower for a long time and was sexually active before he arrived. In this particular home there appears to be zero tolerance for romance. They both decide they want to make love. Neither one sees that well so they don't drive. It's now the middle of the night. They have decided to have safe sex. Obviously, there is no condom dispensing machine. What to do?

They steal into the kitchen and look for plastic wrap. Just as they’re pulling a length from the box, a nurse walks in.

“What are you two doing?”

“Um, uh, we have some birthday cake we want to wrap.”

“At this hour? Indeed. Get back to your rooms.”

Another night of fun shot to hell. Such are the travails of safe sex with very mature lovers.

In closing, I have a story related to me by a social worker – I assume it’s true. Even if it’s an urban legend there is every possibility it could be happening as we speak. I am going to recreate the story from what I was told.

A very, very elderly woman called a social worker and wanted a caretaker to come in for two hours every Thursday.

“How old are you?” the social worker asked.

“I’m 93.”

“May I ask what your disability is?” the social worker asked.

“Disability? I don’t have a one. I’m fine. I take care of myself.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t send someone if you don’t really need help with things like bathing, shopping and meals. You see what I mean?”

“But I do need someone strong to come to my boyfriend’s home.”

“Your boyfriend? How old is he?”

“Oh, he’s ninety-seven.”

“How nice for both of you. Then you’re saying he needs a caretaker? What is his disability?”

“No disability. What is wrong with you? Don’t you get it?” the old woman asks.

“Sorry, I don’t,” the frustrated social worker replies.

“Look, my boyfriend can’t lift me. We have sex every Thursday, but my arthritis is kicking in badly. I need someone to come out, pick me up and put me on top of him. Can’t we enjoy a little intimacy?”

For several moments there’s silence. “What time did you say on Thursday?”

As for condoms for this couple, well, we won’t go there. Don’t sell older folks short, even when they use walkers!

The sexy grandmom

Women, after menopause, are no longer concerned with pregnancy. That is certainly an upside in the arena of sexual enjoyment at advanced ages. It opens us up for new experiences. Some older women are just beginning to find their sexual stride at the same time they receive senior discounts (what a dynamic pairing).

But, the downside is that sexually active, mature adults might not pay much attention to the use of condoms. They, also, for the most part, believe they are a low-risk population for HIV. It is a myth.

With new information coming out, the statistics are showing otherwise. People are living longer. AIDS cases in the over-fifty population rose more than twice as fast between 1991 and 1996 as it did among younger adults. It is clear now that older adults have to be as cautious as their younger counterparts.

In the USA, between 10 to 15 % of cases of acquired immunodeficiency syndrome has occurred in people 50 years old and older. In addition, diagnoses among the elderly can be delayed since many don’t investigate, believing it doesn’t happen to older adults or physicians don’t suspect the disease for the same reason. To complicate the problem, mature adults often have other ailments and a variety of medications that might interact poorly with the disease. Even remembering to take medication adds a new dimension of difficulties.

As stated in the February, 2001 issue of Health Resources and Services Administration, HIV/AIDS Bureau, “The population is becoming older with the maturing of the baby-boomer generation. Social norms about divorce, sex and dating in America are changing, and drugs like Viagra are facilitating a more active sex life. Consequently, the risk of exposure to HIV for older Americans is increasing.”

We now know, many seniors are sexually active, and, some are drug users. Their behavior can put them a risk for HIV infection. Because seniors are not routinely tested, many seniors who are HIV infected go undetected.

So, now seniors are faced with ageism and infection from a sexually-or-IV-drug transmitted disease. Even though men who have sex with men are the largest group of AIDS cases in the over-fifty group, heterosexual women have been infected at a higher rate and, as they age into their 60’s and beyond, comprise a greater percentage.

Again, as reported in Health Resources and Services Administration, “With HIV-positive individuals living longer, a growing proportion of deaths from AIDS is occurring among older individuals. In 1994, one in four deaths from AIDS occurred among people ages 45 years and older. In 1998, 2 years after the wide-scale introduction of HAART, the proportion had risen to one in three, underscoring the need for systems of care and support that respond to the needs of an aging HIV-positive population.”

There is the distinct danger of misdiagnosis. Many HIV symptoms (such as: weight loss, shortness of breath, skin eruptions and fatigue) mimic symptoms of diseases associated with aging. It’s not uncommon for health care providers to be unaware that mature adults are an at-risk population. Younger doctors/psychologist/social workers may hesitate about discussing sexuality with older patients.

How many people ask their Grandparents or even a parent if they are having safe sex? So, it’s great to enjoy quality sex, but make it safe -- and that's the best.

From the sexy grandmom

As receivers, men are socialized to avoid emotional issues. It’s sissy and emasculating. The message that males seem to be receiving from an early age on is that once they are on an equal footing with women as to feelings and opinions, they will be rendered powerless. If they admit to having deep sensitivities, that somehow takes them down a few notches. The underlying feeling is that if men communicate and give quality listening to a female, they then enter a level playing field. It becomes a healthy give and take. Some men have told me that when they attempt to have a dialogue with a woman and it becomes too intimate, they can’t breathe. YIKES! That’s scary.

I’m going to give you my perspective on the damage that kind of wiring extracts. Men can be reluctant to dig for reasons as to why they behave in certain ways even when their relationship is beginning to fall apart? They feel they don’t need to. One reason is that when men are emotionally unavailable, the women in their lives think they will be the one to change him and are willing to set their own needs aside. In this respect, they become the enableres. Sometimes I think they fear they won't be loved or at worst, will be abondoned.

“Somehow these women always have an excuse for the guy’s shortcomings.” That quote is from Dating Advice Newsletter put out by Christian Carter. Also, from the same newsletter, “Women (and men) don’t base their choices of men on how nice or good someone is to them day-to-day. Women choose the men they do because they feel a powerful GUT LEVEL ATTRACTION for them. And guess what? Some women will continue to put up with a guy that doesn’t treat them very well. Sometimes for months or years…”

Men generally seem unwilling to work very hard to find out why a relationship, they might care deeply about, is disintegrating or has died. As one highly educated man I know stated when I described a play that went into the psyches of the characters, “That’s crap. It’s chick stuff.”
Yet, there are so many male writers of sad, yearning love songs, and male poets writing about lost loves, new love and hoping for love to materialize. Male writers sometimes dig deep into what makes a relationship tick. This demonstrates male awareness of the need for introspection. I believe men yearn for a great, nourishing relationship as much as any woman does. But from the time they were little boys until adulthood, they are told to repress tears, run away when there is an emotional crisis rather than face the multitude of feelings. The subliminal messages tell them that women are supposed to manage the emotional aspects of life while a man turns to work, ballgames or golf to escape.

I believe women outlive men because females tend to express their emotions—for the most part. Repressing feelings can manifest in the form of physical ailments. It is recognized that different chemicals are released in the body by anxiety and negativity as opposed to contentment. Not facing your emotions and dealing with them can produce a poor quality of life or possibly an early death. It wears down the body parts more quickly, and makes us more prone to illness.

Kristi Williams, assistant professor of sociology at Ohio State University co-authored a study that was published in the Journal of Health and Social Behavior. “The findings indicate that abusive men don’t show signs of depression or other reactions to the stress they’re under. Instead, the feelings of stress build up and are released in bursts of violence.”

In my opinion it is the secure man who is far more masculine and developed emotionally if he shows his feelings and reveals his inner self. Only the most stable men with the strongest sense of self-esteem can buck the tradition and open themselves up.

So, it seems, we’re training our men to die before women by having them crush feelings. Of course, my mother always told me the reason women outlive men by seven or eight years is that God wanted to give them a rest.

MEN! OPEN UP YOUR HEARTS AND SOULS AND INCREASE YOUR LIFE SPAN! You don’t have to do it just to have a better relationship (God forbid). Do it for health reasons. I assure you that if women get a small overflow of the emotions you pour out, we’ll take it. Don’t die before your time.

The sexy grandmom