I am certain this has been posited somewhere before. I seem to recall the famous Minter marriage topic brushing up against it, but not painting broadly. That guy was very open about his self-love and the efficacy of same, and if I recall concluding that porn and self indulgence had cost him, uh, some rigidity or something along those lines. While likely true it was an unfortunate nod to conventional wisdom that the decline in male sexual capability with age is not at all related to the partner, but to the fact that the man is most likely staying up late with Lucy Laptop, Tracy Tablet, and Phoebe Phone…exhausting himself in a menage a trois that no Luddite could possibly enjoy.
Or not. Stay with me as I swerve.
I raised the subject of a couple, friends of my family, who are in the death rattle of their marriage. I explained that the man is like a released hostage, not elated at the family being destroyed, rather he is content in the fact that this 27 year union is going to end, not if….and he knows when. He is not crestfallen, weepy, or morose. He is a bit pissed off.
He spoke to me last evening and still sounds great. He shared some bitter wife anecdotes that I explained to him come from the template. One was that he spent a full day and night at her house while she was out of town, cleaned, mowed, and did some work on her bed because she has an injured back. When she returned he was still there. She made no acknowledgement of any of the work.
As he left he told her that he had done some work on the supports under her bed and that he had slept on it himself (he has had five back surgeries) and thinks it will help her back.
She followed him to his car and asked, “So you slept in the bed?”. Him: “Um, sure, yea, where else would I sleep?
She said, “That’s just weird and creepy”.
I don’t know about you but that kind of thing gets me exercised. More, its a glimpse into how her bed has likely been for years.
All of that for some reason sent me to sleep last evening with images of two claw foot bathtubs on a hill. Well, not really. But it did make me wonder if the absurd amount of Cialis sold in the US has a tiny bit to do with that happens, down to and including nothing, in her bed(s) collectively. When mercy comes runnin’ and she gives her thoughts to England for her man is it any wonder he needs a pharmaceutical splint?