Wednesday, December 17, 2014

MY FOREST GUMP LIFE

LIKE FOREST GUMP--I AM A NOBODY WHO'S HAD EXTRAORDINARY EXPERIENCES

1. I very briefly interviewed Rev Moon--founder of the Moonie cult---asked him 3 very challenging questions.  It was in the late 60's when his following in the US was probably less than a hundred.  A Karate expert named Jhoon Rhee was trying to recruit me---invited me to the welcome party in Washington DC.  Rev Moon spoke briefly then opened the floor for questions. I asked the pivotal question: Do you really claim to be Jesus Christ returned to earth? (he does) He said:  "I will let you decide that".  I said: "Will you die a mortal's death?" He said "yes". (Scripture has him ruling over a transformed earth when he comes back) Finally, I asked if he could do miracles.  Now he was annoyed with me and saw I was not a follower.  He said: "Even if I did a miracle for you---you would not believe."  My embarrassed host moved the meeting along.  I watched later as the new Jesus Christ tried to cut a cake with a sword. He didn't know that the cake was not solid but was built on a cardboard foundation.  When the sword wouldn't go through--he became a little flustered---then grasping both ends of the sword he crunched through the cardboard--collapsing the huge cake.  It was obvious to me (maybe others) that ego had surged momentarily in the New Jesus Christ. Everyone laughed nervously and broke into applause.
Imagine my astonishment over the years when this fakir from North Korea got hundreds of thousands to follow him.

2. I Briefly interviewed Sandra Tanner---granddaughter of Brigham Young--and author of the fiercely anti-Mormon book:  "MORMON CLAIMS EXAMINED"---A scholarly--very detailed--analysis of the falsehoods and follies of Mormonism. Check her out here.  (also if the subject interest you I recommend Stephen Mansfield's book: THE MORMONIZING OF AMERICA.) She and her husband are a bold couple to wage their war right there in Salt Lake.  I credit their research with much of what I know about this ridiculous religion.  Sadly, they are evangelical Christians with their own follies to consider.  Mormonism is more vulnerable than Christianity because along with its doctrines it makes scientific claims that are Provably untrue.  After a century of trying to defend the claims of the book of Abraham---the LDS church admitted last month that it simply wasn't true.  And now genetic evidence proves that the American Indians are NOT descended from the ten lost tribes of Israel. You have to be REALLY REALLY credulous to be a Mormon. But I digress.

3. One of my strangest experiences was meeting someone incredibly LIKE ME. We even looked a bit alike---rode identical BMW motorcycles and had the same outgoing--pleasing--manner.  We locked on to each other at a National Motorcycle rally and didn't come up for air for about 2 hours---both of us astonished to meet an intellectual and philosophical and emotional twin.  Here's the Amazing thing:  I WAS BORED OUT OF MY SKULL.  There was nowhere to go with our conversation--no solid differences to explore--no character traits to adopt---In short---nothing to be learned.  Admire him as I did---he had nothing for me.  I went away wondering if I had anything to offer anybody.  Certainly I don't think I will flock with birds too much like me.


Tuesday, December 16, 2014

SEXUAL SECRETS OF MY THROWN AWAY LIFE

I'VE NOT QUITE FINISHED WITH MY CONFESSIONS AND OBSERVATIONS ABOUT SEX.
Here's a few more.
1. The hyper rush of sharing.
Lured away to Mexico by an old love living there--I went down to heal her broken heart--leaving my current lady twisting in the wind. (nice story in itself--the Mexico lady--she lusted for bullfighters--moved to San Miguel de Allende---got one---got two---was disappointed with both---unsatisfying lovers--their stomachs a mass of ugly scars---from bulls horns--and their penis's not matching their courage--their ego's unbearable---she jettisoned them and took up with a cheese seller---who broke her heart)
My work done--I returned to New Orleans to find my lady sleeping with one of my friends.  OOOh the pains of hell----FOR AWHILE---like a sledge hammer to the gut and then it slowly went away. We three conferred and decided to share the lady on alternate days.  She slept with me on Mon, Wed, Fri and him on Tu, Thurs, Sat.  Sunday she slept alone.  She did this for a month then quit--choosing to be with me---said of the experiment:  "It was thrilling for awhile but became exhausting---That her lovers were like rival bulls trying to outdo each other." From my perspective it was hyper exciting.  On my nights I would quiver with anticipation---find great joy in pleasuring her--exhaust myself in ecstasy. In the months afterwards-- when our passion began to cool---I would urge her to find another lover to "threaten me with" and bring back the hyper sex. We lived together for 5 years. (Miss "L" if you read this why not comment anonymously on your memory of this experiment )

2. Barroom strategies:
I've done some of my hardest thinking on this subject.  Here are my conclusions: Three elements to a successful connection in a bar: a. Show some--but not too much--interest.
                                                  b. Display credentials---subtly--like speaking intelligently.
                                                  c. Display aliveness---(your playful child persona) "promise" fun.
Turns out someone has written a master work on this subject: Neil Strauss's book:  THE GAME.

3. Contractual relationship:
I did this once---With the lady who went off to Mexico.  We read a book on contractual marriages and decided to try a contractual relationship---spent some time carefully drawing up our wants and then signing a one month contract.  Think we renewed it once.  Have forgotten what ended it---Oh yes--she moved off to Mexico.

4. Wrote a poem to men from "Mars"--explaining those "ladies from venus".  All in good fun but containing seeds of truth.

What Every Martian Needs to Know

A spaceship has landed with men from Mars.
And, before they disembark,
Gather to hear the tour director
Make his briefing remarks.

Men, we’ve come this billion miles
Because we’re incomplete.
And the thing that we are lacking
Is women, soft and sweet.

Earth is mating ground, but remember
Women have come from Venus,
A whole different planet, and there’s a world
Of differences between us.

We are mighty studs and stallions
With inborn driving need
To charm a lot of maidens and
Scatter lots of seed.

But these ladies here from Venus
Have a different agenda.
They only want one loving mate
And a cozy hacienda.

So love and sex are apples and oranges
To us Martian males.
But women won’t have them separately;
They insist on fruit cocktail.

Mother Nature’s thrown us a cross-purpose curve;
The solution’s still in doubt.
Couple’s must find a way to work
This contradiction out.

Meanwhile, men, go charm some lady;
Get kissed upon the lips.
And to help you in your quest,
We pass along these tips.

Ladies from Venus are like skittish rabbits.
Do I need to tell you, Rookie?
We must develop gentle habits
Pretend you don’t need the nooky.

Don’t get in a hurry to shed your pants.
Restrain that raging need.
Bide your time, and do the dance.
Love can’t be won with speed.

When women tell their troubles, you wanna fix ‘em
As soon as they’ve arisen.
But curiously, what Venus wants
Is just for Mars to listen!

So polish your manners; listen for hours.
Brag in moderation.
Fix her rig; bring her flowers.
Avoid inebriation.

Don’t flash money or flex your muscles.
They’ll think you’re an uncouth sap.
Women from Venus consistently
Reject all macho crap.

I know, I know, it’s a peck of trouble,
I can hear some of you say,
We’re jumping through hoops, we need love on the double,
Why, it’s easier just to be gay!’

But gentlemen, gentlemen, when the rose finally blooms,
When body and soul are a-quiver,
When joy and passion fill the room
With pleasures only women deliver,

You’ll sing with me the ecstasy song,

OOOh sweet Venus, where ya been so long.’ “ 

PREVIEWS OF COMING POSTS:  I think I will wrap up this personal history segment with a few more experiences from my thrown away life that you may find hard to believe--like an interview with Rev. Moon---founder of the moonies---and with Mrs Tanner--Brigham Young's granddaughter. Then I hope to make explicit the point I've been hinting at--what my life has to do with yours. When I've done this I will tell you what I've been doing in the past month.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

TELLING THE HARD-TO-BELIEVE SEXUAL TRUTH

WOMEN CANNOT KNOW HOW DEEPLY WE ACHE FOR THEIR PLEASURES.  Watch male animals battle for females till they are exhausted ---even when hungry lions are about--and you get some hint as to the urgency of our need.  We begin to yearn for you---I daresay about 6 and endure about 10 years of extraordinary frustration in this culture. (how much Dahmer-like wierdness can be traced to this frustration is worth researching)  In a world I would make-- the balance of desire would be more even----or the culture less cruel. (some cultures--I've heard---allow nannies to masturbate young boys --to ease their tension) Happily, our culture is bending a bit---sex is easier, earlier and
in more imaginative forms.  I think--on balance--it's a good thing. Frustrated sexual desires lead to
life altering abuses of the young as in the Catholic priests scandals.

But I digress.  I have promised to share some "unbelievable" incidents of my own sexual history.
1. I begin with a "lightweight" incident at college where I was seduced by a teacher who with infinite finesse-- shepherded me to bed.  I enjoyed it---not a big deal---not hard to believe?

2. I once dated a nudist---who surprised me on our first date by answering the door nude.  Said she wanted to see the look on my face. (sheepish smile) also not hard to believe?---Stay tuned!

3. Three times in my travels I have seduced ladies at rest areas. One was a Mormon lady at the rest area near the Salt flats speedway. Another outside Dallas and the third in New Mexico.  All seemed to me a gift from the Gods. Right place--right time? Also not hard to believe?---stay tuned!!

4. Dated a Guru.  A female guru came to Tampa town and I watched her declaim her message to a packed house. She has a nationwide following.  Friends arranged a date with her because I was single and at the time performing a one-man Walt Whitman show. (who had much to say about enlightenment).  We clicked-- and she invited me to perform at her home congregation. I did and she paid me generously--then spent some quality time with me. Woo Woo people would know her so I will detail no more. I will say that Enlightened intimacy is as good as you would suspect--super fun!
She tried to enlist me--but I simply did not believe her metaphysics and declined. I'm getting a little harder to believe now---aren't I?  Stay tuned--you positively won't believe the final one!

5. I tried to seduce my grade school teacher---40 years later.  She was still beautiful--widowed and we had exchanged chit chatty letters. I remembered the fire I felt in her class. When I went home recently, I called on her--thanked her for my lessons and displayed my most charming and erudite self---showed her I was quoted in a scholarly book (Practicing Radical Honesty by Brad Blanton--page 83)  Ever so carefully I moved to that line you cannot cross without giving offense or revealing your desire.  But if you don't approach that line, you have NO chance of "success."  I went right up to the line in a phone call that night and my quarry suddenly understood my intentions.  I could hear in her voice that she was shocked and not the least bit interested.  I retreated quickly, assuring her with as much plausibility as I could muster that this was a poorly worded misunderstanding. Perhaps I covered my backside---perhaps I didn't.
What we've illustrated here is that lust can envision the remotest possibilities---entertain the most far fetched wishes--and call a most rational man into absurd action.  Jeesus--what was I thinking.

6. OK here's where I'll lose you---but it's true. Here's the story: (All the parties but myself are dead)
She was high society, drop dead gorgeous and 10 years older-- and she wanted to play tennis with me. (friend of a friend) I'm terrible at tennis but she didn't seem to care.  Our second time out while taking  a lengthy break on the grass, I noticed a pulsating artery in her neck and understood what it meant: She wanted me!! I hadn't even considered it because she was so far out of my impoverished Seminary Student ballpark. My heart surged--and I kissed her--then and there.  We began to meet and eventually became lovers.  I will never forget the irony of guest preaching in a southern Baptist Church one Sunday and looking out from the pulpit to see her and her husband in the audience. (shades of Rev Dimmesdale and Hester Prynne) Honestly--it didn't trouble me at all--I was already drifting away from absolute (revealed) ethics toward relative (discovered/situational/consequential) ethics.

Eventually, I got married to my college sweetheart, moved away and never saw her for 22 years.
(here's the part you will find hard to believe)
I met her briefly at the funeral of a mutual friend.  Still exquisitely beautiful---still married. She was warm--we exchanged pleasantries.  Found myself in a private side conversation with her husband and asked him about his job with Wal-mart. (He was in the inner circle as a site locator and often in the company of Sam Walton)  He said: "I Quit! That bastard was having an affair with my wife--sending me out of town so he could get with her."
So there you have the unbelievable thing:  Sam Walton and I shared a lover!!

RANDY RUMINATES: I don't know if all this revelation is doing me or you any good.  One of my friends has warned me that "stuff you put on the internet never goes away." But Jesus and Brad Blanton say: the truth will set you free!

Sunday, December 07, 2014

MY FAVORITE SEX STORY

She called me one day; said I want to buy you breakfast; I met her at IHOP; pleasantly puzzled because we had dated several times and I sensed no movement toward intimacy.  Oh how I lusted for her; beautiful, curvaceous, aloof.  My charm had failed me--I considered giving up.

She said "I know you want me and I want to tell you why I've refused."
Then followed a story that sped my heart--literally.  She said "I've been abandoned by lovers who grew tired of me---and it hurt for a long time.  One day at my job my boss called me in and told me that he loved his wife but found himself fantasizing about me.  He ask if I would consider trading sex for a weeks pay.  I was shocked and told him no.  Then I thought about it and considered the money and the fact that I liked him anyway.

Next week I told him I would try it once.  I did!  I liked it---he was a good lover.  That was 3 years ago and we still see each other---and he pays me.  I've decided that any future lovers would have to pay me so that if they dumped me I would have compensation to make me feel better."

Now you can guess why my heart sped up.  IT WAS POSSIBLE!  The only question remaining was HOW MUCH.  She thought about it and gave me a number.  I pulled out my wallet on the spot and paid. We went to her place---it was money well spent.  We got along famously.

A week later I asked for a monthly rate that I could afford.  We agreed and months went by.  I never tired of her---thought at times I was falling in love with her---took her on dates etc.  She told me that she had 3 lovers--her original boss and another guy.  I learned to live with that. Sex was always safe.

I left her for a greater love--life on the road when I moved away from Tampa.

RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  I'm not ashamed of this arrangement---Money is a logical way to overcome the inequity of desire.  I've (overtly) paid for sex two other times: Once at the infamous Mustang Ranch outside Reno and once when I was 17 in a back street bordello in Vicksburg, Ms.
I don't think women feel the kind of raging lust that men feel.  A sign in a remote bar on Hwy 50 says it succinctly:  Men:No shirt, No shoes----no service----Women: No shirt---free drinks.

Thursday, December 04, 2014

Six more things I've done--hard to believe

I share this with you because I want to be known.  These are quirky things from my childhood in Sondheimer, Louisiana.  (also because I'm stalling on the seven sexual shockers up next)

1. I WRESTLED A BEAR---Just briefly at a side show tent.  I was 12--the bear was small and muzzled and padded.  I paid the fee and for 30 seconds I enjoyed a tussle.

2. I  ATE POSSUM.  I watched my Grandfather climb a tree, grab the creature--come down with its jaws locked on his shoulder.  What happened next was the wonder: My grandfather began gently stroking it---and it let go.  We put it in a bag took it home, cooked and ate it. (Wouldn't do it now--seemed ok then)

3. I PLOWED WITH A MULE---My uncle had me do it--he was trying to qualify for some government program and couldn't afford a tractor.  It was fascinating for awhile---got old fast--was hard to do. The mule was hard to control.  Did it three days---I was about 12.

4. RAISED WITHOUT INDOOR PLUMBING MY FIRST 6 YEARS.  Remember vividly using sears catalog for toilet paper.

5. CARED FOR BY A BLACK NANNY.  My mother had 4 children in 6 years.  Me being the youngest was left in the care of a black nanny--that I remember with great affection.  Here's my tribute in rhyme:
TO MY NANNY

Hard to know how much I owe
to my indulgent nanny;
black as coal--a diamond soul,
everyone called her Auntie.

She worked hard to raise me unscarred;
helped me feel my worth.
In loving ways she blessed my days;
put me in touch with earth.

6. SAVED FROM MUTILATION BY A JAILHOUSE DOCTOR.  For years (5 to 8) an infection ran pus from my left ear.  Embarrassing --messy.  My mother cleaned it frequently with peroxide.  The doctors recommended a drastic operation to remove the infected tissue--which would have left me with an ear situation exactly like Stephen Cobert's.  My grandmother said no---and took me to Oak Grove, La to a jailed doctor she had faith in and who, for whatever reason, was allowed to continue his practice in jail.  I remember the clang of the jail door as we entered and waited our turn.  He looked at my ear and recommended the removal of my tonsils.  Later at a hospital, it was done and my ear healed without damage to my hearing.

 COMING POST:  Next up is my sexual stuff---I hesitate to reveal it but I regard it as an essential part of this assignment I've given myself. I promise you will find some of it hard to believe.

Monday, December 01, 2014

I LET A DYING MAN TAKE MY GUILT TO HIS GRAVE

This is the 6th in a series of 19 things I've done in my "thrown away" life that you may find hard to believe.

NOT MY PROUDEST MOMENT-----BUT MY BEST OPTION
The statute of limitations is long past---so I can now confess with impunity.

Truth be told---I'm not really ashamed.  I was battling a clever and intransigent enemy---who had all the legal legs to stand on.  Unless I could topple him---I would lose my inheritance.

Here's the story in a nutshell:  My father---ever fearful of lawsuits---put nearly all his assets in someone else's name.  Someone he trusted---who then up and died---trapping his assets in a vulnerable limbo.  A near relative seemed poised to steal my rightful inheritance.  Negotiations failed! (my enemy actually said to me: "I think I've got it all)

My mind whirled some sleepless nights till I hatched a plan of recovery.  Soon, I had the money in hand.


Supoenas came from an outraged enemy----I would have to answer in court for my Machiavellian machinations.  I will tell the rest of the story in rhyme.

Daddy Took the Hit for Me

"Daddy I'm in trouble," I said
As he lay ill in a nursing bed.
"I was morally right but legally wrong.
They'll come and get me before too long.”

"I'll take the hit," he said to me.
Send the cops. I've a plan; you'll see.
I'm old and sick; my death's at hand.
What can they do to a dying man?"

I sent the cops and he explained;
He'd done the deed; was alone to blame.
It made him happy to save my bun;
One last gift to his youngest son.




RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  I'd rather do an illegal thing for the right reason than a legal thing for the wrong reason.

I share the sentiments of William Loyd Garrison: With honorable people I will be honorable ---but when I'm dealing with the dishonorable---I will do whatever it takes. (paraphrased)

And while I'm talking about my father--I'll take this opportunity to share two more short poems that illustrate his thinking.

Daddy Dropped the Charges

Our store was robbed;
The thieves quickly caught.
Two neighborhood boys we knew,
In jail just two days,
When my father dropped the charges.
Puzzled and hot for vengeance,
I asked him why.
He said, “Our damage was slight,
A hundred dollars or so.
And if they are convicted of a felony,
They’ll stay in jail awhile and return,
Shamed and bitter—enemies,
Likewise their families.
Seizing opportunities to do us harm.
But if we let them go, they will feel gratitude,
And not likely repeat the offense.
We’ll have made friends with the family.
They will likely repay the damages,
And things will work out better.”
It was the right thing to do.
He never lectured the boys,

Simply told the sheriff to release them;
Let the sheriff explain.
I marvel now at his farsightedness.
The boys grew up to work for him.
The incident was never mentioned.


The Belt Punch

Daddy sent me to town for a belt punch
When our sawmill stopped dead cold.
The drive belt broke and needed relacing,
But first it needed new holes.

I asked at the store, and of several folks;
I checked with sawyer Bill.
No one had a belt punch and so
I returned straightway to the mill.

Daddy seemed dumbstruck with my tale.
In clearest oratory,
Said, “I sent you to town for a belt punch.
What you brought me back was a story.

Now son, I really need that tool.
You can see we’re in a crunch.
Go back to town and this time, please
Bring me back a belt punch.”

It was as though God spoke to me,
And I’ve made it a lifelong rule
To bring results and not excuses.
(I quickly returned with the tool.)

Saturday, November 29, 2014

LOCKED UP FOR THE RIGHT REASON

This is the 5th of 19 things I've done with my "thrown away" life--that you might find hard to believe.
It was 1962 and I was drafted into the army and told to report to the induction station in Shreveport, La.  En route there on the bus I sat beside another draftee--a black-- named Sam.  When we got off the bus I invited him to coffee with me in the restaurant there.  I remember him being hesitant but I assured him it would be ok.  I really thought it would be--I had been living in Washington, DC and considered segregation over with.  We had just got seated when a policeman confronted Sam---said you will have to go to the colored side.  I said "No" and put out my arm to block Sam's exit.  The cop immediately put cuffs on me and led me out the back door.  Sam was allowed to leave.  A paddy wagon arrived and they put me in.

The ride to the station is one I won't forget.  They tried to injure me with sharp turns and jamming on the breaks.  (So yes I know---some cops have a vicious streak) I managed to hold tight and was not hurt.

When we arrived, I was jailed briefly then taken before some authority and questioned. He wanted to know why I broke the law.  In perhaps the bravest moment of my life--I told him the law was unjust and that he and the whole system "were on the wrong side of history".  When he learned that I was from East Carroll Parish--he seemed surprised--and doubtful.  Asked me who the sheriff was.  I told him "Red Gilbert".  He said "Boy--what the hell is wrong with you?"

When he learned that I was being inducted into the army--he assigned two officers to escort me there.  To this day I laugh when I remember my GRAND ENTRANCE into that room when about a hundred pairs of eyes watched me enter with a policeman on each arm.  They marched me to the authorities and explained---said they were not pressing charges in light of my induction.

Sam and I were in boot camp together in Ft. Jackson, South Carolina.  He must have told the blacks in our unit about the incident---because they were all very nice to me.

My moral courage has not been unfailingly high.  On many occasions, I have had to be rescued by my friends from sheer cowardice.  My wish to be liked has often trumped my moral insight.  That and my lust have most often led me astray.

BUT I HAVE THIS MOMENT TO REMEMBER (20 JUNE 1962) WHEN I STOOD TALL. I trust that the police blotter for that date will bear witness as an "incident report."

RANDY PHILOSOPHIZES:  I suspect that you have had your moment--or moments also---and when next you "get down on yourself"---relive it in your mind and enjoy a brief spasm of self esteem.