strippers and z28s and such

okay, now i think i get it…

…the male midlife crisis.

not that i’m having one, you understand. not that i plan to, either. but that point in a guy’s life – where all of a sudden he wants to trade in the nice, settled, suburban lifestyle with the wife and the 2.3 kids and the honda odyssey for a condo, a camaro, and a christina aguilera looking chick, only sluttier…and NO kids anywhere in sight?

i get that. and it’s not hormonal. it’s not us trying to cling to our diminishing youth.

it’s the puberty part of the cycle.

the cycle that YOU, the woman, put us on. you start us on a dejavu ride and the part where we want a young, perky, highlighted, fake-baked, pierced in all the right places plaything that knows how to work a properly cropped wife beater with her ultra low-rise paper, denim, and cloth jeans and g-string is just a part of it. we get to the point where we want the settled life later. but that comes after college II, which is after high school II, which comes after childhood II.

and YOU start us on the latter to get the whole ball rolling…

note: for any sickos with adult baby fetishes who found me via google, don’t soil your depends with glee – i am NOT taking it there…please exit the site now. and seek therapy. many, many fucking years of therapy.

it all deals with one of the NOT so subtle differences i’m noticing now that the notorious h.l.g. is in the hizouse.

bachelor clean versus chick clean. not that i actually THOUGHT my house was clean, you understand. i’m not that blind and/or ignorant. i just thought it was a bit closer than apparently it was. but it’s not so much the dust and dirt that gets this ball rolling…

i have had women live with me before. two of them. a couple of years apart. the first one came here and was gone so fast there was NO difference in the house other than a lack of money. not meant in the “the bitch stole from me” way, but it happened none the less.

the second one was quite messy and i’ve mended things with her so we won’t go into it now. but there were not any real positive changes that came from that one as far as the house was concerned.

(2026 note – that one unraveled quickly and is one of only two exes i don’t keep in touch with)

and time frames were different.

the first one moved in less than sixty days after my mom died. so, things were a bit…um…jumbled. only lasted around sixty days. two and a half years later the ex fiance moved in and four months later she was gone, and then i waited a bit before i brought in the notorious h.l.g. – like five and a half years…

…and i shopped a lot in those five some odd years. ME knows. she was there. so was kathi. and kramer. and josh. hell, you’ve ALL seen it. so, when h.l.g. arrived, some shuffling needed to occur.

for those who don’t know me THAT well, i have had the same address for over twenty-six years. not a lot of people can say that. especially not those who are MY age. when i was seven we moved here, and i picked out MY room where MY stuff would go.

seventeen years later mom dies and i inherit the house.

then i had MY house where MY stuff would go. little touches of me EVERYWHERE. could put up the hustler beaver hunt 1997 calendar poster if i wanted to in my KITCHEN and nobody could say shit. a man could get used to that. and he does. and then, he lets her move in…

…and all of a sudden the little touches of you that aren’t unanimous??? they go to that room. the room where all your stuff goes. for some men it’s called a “study” or “den”. for most it’s called the “garage” or “workshop”. for me? it’s the studio – a room that’s filled with recording equipment, records, reptiles, and more music posters and memorabilia than probably any twenty of my readers combined have in their entire homes.

so all of a sudden? MY stuff has to go into MY studio. which, coincidentally, was MY room when i was a kid. all of a sudden i’m a pre-teen and i can hear the lecture from mom about “my stuff not needing to be all over the house”.

and so begins childhood II, right? that’s why i just bought myself a schwinn stingray – the bike i had stolen from me when i was in the eighth grade. making the wrong things right from the past. giving myself a “do over”, but on a grand scale. see – i’m already back up to middle school. i should be shopping around for a sluttier younger xtina in no time, right? making up for how high school should have been?

WRONG!!!

(and she’s in the other room doing step aerobics, for those who think i just put that here because she’s reading over my shoulder or something)

i have no kids to run from. and i hate condos. happy with my house and all the improvements we’re slowly but surely making to it. and why go after some twig with extensions when i can curl up with the rather luscious curves of the notorious h.l.g.? all in all, i think i’ll just chill in the childhood II. college II would be too costly (although i might go back for a masters in a year or so) and high school I was enough for me. i’ll just stay stuck at my current level of age 12 for the second time, even though chronologically i’m almost there for the third…

…except i still wouldn’t mind the camaro. convertible. black. nice.

(2026 note – less than two years after this the malibu died and was replaced by a harlequin camaro convertible, my last domestic ride before my bmw period)

Replies: 2 Comments

what crisis? and the back will be done by the end of the winter – and that will do it for me…

sean said @ 11/19/2004 03:51 PM CST

What no miata, tattoo and happy pills for your crisis???

ME said @ 11/19/2004 01:45 PM CST