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Lately (11-23-17) I’ve been musing over this wonderful flood of sexual harassment accusations brought against politicians, sports doctors, movie moguls, actors and TV personalities. Likely others, too. Not me. Maybe some awkward, inappropriate allusions from time to time. But I’m not powerful enough to make the news. And my embarrassed women friends are, I think, used to the likes of us little guys and just let it go.


Still, when I look back on my pretty long life (82 right now) I can see quite a lot of longing for that sort of freedom and, really, self-confidence in relations with women. By the time I got over my grandmother’s admonitions against touching myself down there (You can put some of those phrases in finger quotes if you like. OK, all of them.) and decided the thing would not, after all, fall off on me by way of God’s punishment regime, I felt like quite a big shot when I had an erection and someone to cherish it. It makes you feel good to feel wanted and even liked for having that embarrassment stretched out all in the open. So you’re this cool, studly dude, you think, and very likely all the women in the world are longing for you to come around with it pointed their way. So you grab a little flesh here and there and smile real big and the ladies collapse in your arms. Or you think you could or might, but you’re this faithful type. Well, a man can dream, can’t he?


Or, I’m thinking, a man can occasionally make it big in the world. Now the dream can become a reality. But what is this dream? And is it really real?


Now just this morning my Sbux friend Peg, who recently returned from ten days in New Zealand, showed me the video below as an illustration to give an inkling of what she and her tour group experienced in a Maui village. She said it was really impressive. I think, then, really real:

So if that’s the real deal, what is this?



Or this?