Could you sleep more quietly please?

Oh, is there anything more peevesome than trying to sleep through the riotous cachophony of someone else’s peaceful slumber? I think all of the snorers should go and live on an island with all of the people who sleep with the television on all night, then the rest of us can get some sleep.

Just to digress for one minute--I don't know why, but I seriously have a weird phobia kind of thing about sleeping with the TV on. Not only can't I fall asleep very easily with a TV on in the room, but I truly get this ooky feeling whenever I wake up in the middle of the night and find a television has been left on somewhere in the house. *SHUDDER* I can't explain it. It's like the television unleases something evil into our homes if left on while we're sleeping. Not to mention the weird sensation of having strangers in your home doing stuff--talking or singing or driving or whatever they're doing right there in your house with you while you're sleeping. I don't know why no one else but me feels anxiety about that. Y'll folks who sleep with the TV on, do you invite your neighbors over to hang out in your house during the night--"Just make yourselves at home, we'll be right here sleeping away. Feel free to hang out in the bedroom right here with us, we'll just be using the bed, you're welcome to use the rest of the room for, you know, solving a crime or performing surgery, maybe eat some dinner. You could even have sex if you want, right here next to us."

Back to the snoring, though. I keep a voice-activated recorder by my bed (to record my dreams) so I can say without a doubt, I do not snore.

I come from a family of snorers who could shake the very rafters and foundations of the house. For me, visiting relatives means I’ll be getting little sleep. And oh, the irony, when I’m tip-toeing around so as not to wake any of the sleeping thunder--because their sleeping makes it impossible for me to sleep myself!

How does one sleep when one is making such a horrible racket at such close proximity to one’s own ears? If I can’t sleep through it, three rooms away, how does he sleep with himself?

My sister is the worst I’ve ever heard. Oh sweet Lord and Lady, she makes the loudest, most unfeminine sound imaginable. ’Twould peel the paint off the walls.

Snoring is not just unattractive, it’s unsafe. As a child, I believe I knew this instinctively. I remember shivering in my bed at night, listening to my parents snore, my little heart knocking around in my chest, because I just KNEW something was very wrong with Mommy and Daddy to cause them to make such horrible noises. And if I tried to match my breathing to theirs, I would pass out from lack of oxygen, so I knew they were fixing to keel over dead any second: SHNAAAWWWWWAAAAAWWWWWW--SHNAAAWWWWWWAAAAAWWWWWWWW!!!!

How could they live through it? Better I stay awake and make sure they don’t stop breathing altogether. And this is probably why I can’t sleep with a snorer today.

So if you snore...fix that!! For yourself, for your loved ones, for your poor scared children in their beds, do it for the paint on your walls! You’ll be 100% sexier while you’re sleeping, and will probably live longer when you take that strain off of your heart.

Urban Pagan

Most pagans live in the city. You can think of us as urban tribes, whether we practice as solitares or in groups. The city pagan comes in many shapes and sizes. She may be a warrior in a leather jacket, with tattoos and piercings, or a soccer mom with three kids who shields her home with scattered Fruit Loops. He might be a long-haired tree-hugger, an ancient old shaman or an angry young man, searching for magic and determined to be the magic as well. For us, Harry Potter and Buffy the Vampire Slayer just aren’t enough.

Most pagan rituals, symbols and deities came from an older, agricultural era. They revolve around fertility, growing things, planting, harvest, livestock and the changing seasons of the year. For a modern pagan, these things are harder to stay in tune with. When we throw down on a tasty cheeseburger, we have no idea when or where the animal was slaughtered or who did it. We can assume it was not done in reverence or respect. With a few hundred cows in line waiting for their turn to give their lives for our sustenance and growth, there just isn’t time for ritual or prayer.

So perhaps we lump our respect into one or two generic rituals designed to thank Gaea for everything she provides for us, including our cheeseburgers.

As every city dweller knows, the city has it’s own intense wild energy, unique to itself, from which we feed or with which we struggle each day. I have lived in several cities and visited several more and never felt such a hateful vibe as I do in Dallas. This city hates me, there’s no question, and the feeling is mutual. We simply tolerate each other until I am granted the freedom to get out. Minneapolis was like a friendly puppy; not harsh or demanding but not particularly mature either. Albuquerque was like a beautiful old grandmother with wrinkled leathery skin and eyes sparkling with warmth and wisdom.

Rural energy is that of growing things, birth and rebirth. It is tame, agricultural. City energy is more like that of a wild, untamed jungle. Just as the gods of the woods and swamps are wilder than the gods of the fields, city gods are wild creatures collected in the whirlpool of urban energy. Take the time to get to know some of the city gods and goddesses around you. Learn creative ways to worship them and invoke their power for your rituals and your daily life.

Wilma - goddess of Wal-Mart and other discount shopping centers. She can even be invoked to provide guidance for a successful garage sailing expedition. If you find exactly what you needed at half the price you expected to pay, give thanks to Wilma. (You can call her what you like; I have chosen to give her my mother’s name.) She’s partial to sweets, so as an offering, leave a piece of candy on the shelf in place of the merchandise as you put it in your shopping cart.

Excursion - god of commuting and traffic. His energy comes from the ever-moving arteries of highways and city streets. He can help with clearing gridlock, navigating to parts unknown and avoiding traffic tickets. When you reach your destination without a single red light, tip your hat to Excursion and leave a few coins on the curb.

Techno - nocturnal god of night clubs and partying. His energy flows when you feel the driving beat of the music on the dance floor. Pick-up lines, dancing and laser light shows are of his domain. He’s more concerned with having fun and getting you laid than with protection and safety, so be sure to shield yourself and invoke the protection of a powerful guardian spirit before going out with Techno.

Please Help Me, I Don't Know Right From Wrong!

I'm currently editing a (really excellent) book that pushes the line for what is "legal" erotica in the US. This story involves consentual sex with girls. Not 8-year-olds, but teen-age girls, you know, girls with healthy sexual appetites like we all had when we were teen-agers (and some of us fortunate enough still to possess). I notice the author has taken care to address the age issue, and it amuses me on one hand and irritates me on the other.

For instance, just prior to the sexual incident, the man asks the girl "When do you turn 18?" and she replies "September 28." He then says "Happy Birthday" and they carry on. Well, since we don't know the exact date the story takes place on, we don't know if the girl's 18th birthday was yesterday, today, tomorrow, next week, last week? And it strikes me that this detail is what makes the story legal in the US or not. It's legal for the story to be taking place on the day of her 18th birthday but illegal if it's the day before. It just strikes me as ludicrous, that's all. Makes as bout as much (little) sense as any other attempt to legislate morality.

Last Sunday morning about 10 am I was at the neighborhood Kroger store buying some food and stuff. As I passed down the booze aisle, I decided to stock up. After all, my divorce is final this week and I have something to celebrate. So I grabbed about six different bottles of champagne and a six-pack of beer for the Relentless Tease (he likes Bud Light) and some other boozy stuff and headed for the check-out. The lady frowned at me as she began separating my booze from the groceries and set them on the counter behind her. "Can't buy alcohol before noon on Sunday," she informed me.

Again, that curious sensation of being amused and irritated at the same time. Did someone think that I might rush home and guzzle six bottles of champagne in two hours instead of going to church? Or that I might actually decide, oh what the heck, might as well go to church since I can't buy booze this morning? Or what? Seriously, what is the reasoning behind this silly law? What is the morality that is being legislated here? That I shouldn't drink on Sunday morning? Well why not make it illegal to DRINK on Sunday morning? Obviously if I want to get hammered on a Sunday morning, this ridiculous law is not going to slow me down one bit. If I were a lush, I'd certainly know to buy me booze on Saturday night so I'll be all set to hit the sauce the next morning while all the good people are in church. Instead, all this did was inconvenience me a bit. And I don't even drink that much! Is that the purpose of the law, to inconvenience those who don't indulge in the evil behavior very often while not hindering those who abuse the substance in the least bit?

We also have what's called "dry districts" here in Dallas, which means you might have to drive several miles to find a liquor store. Or you might have to fill out some silly membership card before you can order a drink in a restaurant. You see, private clubs can serve alcohol to their members in a dry district, but not public establishments. So, basically, every public establishment that wants to serve alcohol (which is most of 'em), calls itself a private club. You want to order a glass of wine with dinner, just write your name on this card and viola! you're a club member! (Don't you just love exclaiming "viola!" instead of "voila! "The problem with doing it in writing is that most people just think you don't know how to spell it.)

Am I the only one who finds it fascinating, this idea of legislating a moral code that seems to serve no common code of morality I've ever been aware of here (those who have a moral issue with boozing on Sunday morning or even boozing in general have kept themselves hidden well, if they exist) but merely creates an irritating inconvenience to every average person of drinking age sooner or later while everyone who wants to drink, on whatever day they want to drink, in whatever district they want to drink in manages to do so without being slowed down in the least by the wet laws? And whomever it is these laws are supported by or enacted by or created for don't really seem to mind all that much, since I've never heard anyone complain about the shameless way people get around the wet laws to commit their sinful act of drinking in spite of them. So why do folks grumble about the wet laws when it inconveniences them but nobody ever seems to notice the hypocrisy as I do and wonder who benefits from things the way they are?

Anyway, back to the teen-aged girls in the sex stories. I admit to not being real informed about the exact semantics of the law. For instance, I know it's against the law to publish an erotic tale on the internet involving an under-aged person. But I don't know how "involved" the under-aged person is allowed to be. Is it legal for an adult character in a story to get a hard-on at the sight of a 15-year-old's belly button? Is it legal for the 15-year-old to masturbate or fantasize about having sex as long as no actual adult person touches her in the course of the story? Is it legal for an adult person to french kiss a 16-year-old, and if not, is it the tongue that makes it a description of a sexual act? If you were to describe such a kiss, making it clear exactly the sort of kiss you mean but not explicitly mentioning the tongue or that it's a French kiss, is it still immoral, or is it possible to accuse someone of having a perverted mind if they insist on reading tongues in where some other, wholly innocent, kind of kiss was intended?

And who exactly gets to decide where these lines are drawn? Why do we allow other people to tell us whether our sexual fantasies, behaviors and desires are acceptable? Do we not feel qualified to judge our own?

I know, it's not "our" standards that we worry about, it's "theirs." We have to make sure "they" are not crossing any lines, because even though we know we know what's right, other people always seem to disregard the standards of decency and do dirty things. Gotta keep "those people" in line or this world is headed for hell in a hand-basket! Thank God we have the community to keep us moral and remind us of our good solid family values.

I know I personally would probably be up a creek named S-H-I-T with nary a paddle if I didn't have laws reminding me that I shouldn't drink on Sunday or that I shouldn't write stories about children having sex.

Crotchedy Old Men

I adore them.

Along with crones, they are the most concentrated source of wisdom we have available.

Perhaps grumpy old men are appealing because of the contrast between their frail, fading bodies and their sharp, aggressive minds. Old men know a lot more about women than younger men--and I’m not talking about sex, I just mean they seem to understand women at last after sixty years of cluelessness. Maybe it’s because after spending most of their lives enjoying relative power and privilege, they’ve had to give up most of it and become like a woman themselves.

Oh my gosh, don’t let an old man hear me say that though. I’m sure they don’t like being compared to women any more than younger men do.

I have read that senility is a myth. When we are younger and forget some important matter we say it was because we were too busy and had too much on our minds. When an old person forgets something we are sure that he must be getting senile. The truth is that, for most of us, mental ability remains pretty much the same all of our lives. This is not just my observation but it is proven by research. At Wayne State and Duke Universities studies showed that, contrary to popular notion, intelligence does not decline in old age. I recall an earlier study in which teen agers and elderly people were tested and compared and the adolescents showed more traits of senility than the old folks!

Consider the contributions of people in their eighties and nineties:

~Michelangelo designed St. Peter’s Cupola when he was 83 and remained active until he was 89.

~Benjamin Franklin was past 80 when he helped draft the constitution.

~Chief Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes was in his 80’s when he wrote some of his classic legal opinions and he served well into his 90’s.

~Artist Pablo Picasso as well as cellist Pablo Casals were active into their 90’s.

If you are fortunate enough to know a crotchety old man, treat him to lunch this Father’s Day and let him be as crabby as he wants to be. Listen when he talks--he might know a bit more than you do about most things.