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Wednesday, April 22. 2009
Guilty Pleasure
Admitting there is a problem is always the first step the experts say, so it is here I’ll admit my guilty, guilty pleasure; I like watching The Real Wives of Orange County. “Reading Playboy isn’t a guilty pleasure Tim?”
Not a bit. I have absolutely no guilt at all for my pleasures with Playboy. My subscription began in 1975 when just a young Marine and believe it or not, the literature was as fascinating as the pictures, maybe more so.
Christina Smith was the centerfold for March 1978 and her centerfold photo still ranks (with me) as the sexiest in Playboy history. But equally as fascinating was the interview with Bob Dylan. If I wasn’t a big Dylan fan before that interview, I became a bigger fan after.
Then there is the science fiction by Gore Vidal, a lengthy analysis of the film Pretty Baby, Brooke Shields’ breakout film role and a not too flattering critique of professional sports team owners by Ralph Nader. In it Nader laments how we will be forced to eat terrible hot dogs and pay two bucks for beer. Now, I don’t drink anymore, but from what I’ve heard, beer is long past $5.00.
Anyway, no guilt whatsoever with my attention to all things Hefner. Ah, but The Real Wives of Orange County — I watch that shamelessly. One of the hot housewives is Jeana Tomasino, Miss November 1980. She’s from my hometown, Milwaukee, WI and has some of the same favorite pursuits as I, like scuba diving. But she’s not the hook in the program, or at least not the only one. These women are off the hook with their money-obsessed personalities; living behind gates, having party planners for everything, diamond rings worth as much as most cars and well, they live in Southern California so they and their female progeny dress appropriately.It gets interesting though when their high priority material values collide with their deeper feelings and instincts. There’s always the hope that one of them will denounce that lifestyle and all it has bred—but they never do and I don’t blame them. Some of those homes are pretty effin’ awesome.
Not that the men are any better. There is one divorcée whose ex dumped her so he could marry a mail order Thai bride. What extremely wealthy person does that? Marry a young, blonde nude model instead. That’s what I would do were I to dump my wife of 25 years. But that’s really the reason I’ve never been married; a better, sexier girlfriend is always around the next corner.
Except now when I’m alone with no romance on the horizon. My bank account wouldn’t even impress a mail order Thai wife. Yeah well, we live life by our own rules so we have to accept the consequences as well as the rewards — and I’ve had plenty of rewards in my life, romantically and sexually.
On the morning of my heart surgery, as I lay on the gurney in pre-op, there was a lot of time to think and reflect on my life. I decided that if there were any regrets they didn’t matter because there was nothing that could be done about them. I thought of all the accomplishments and great moments and remembered I had done things few people do. Then I did an inventory of every relationship in my life, from family to close friends to some friendly acquaintances, concluding there was nothing left to be said to them. I was at peace.
And so it is with my lifestyle. “Alone” as I may be, this is the path I’ve chosen and quite frankly, I’m not alone. Besides family, there are friends coming out of the woodwork practically, some of whom insist I call them if and when I need a ride or some assistance. That is priceless.Now that I’m four weeks post-op, I’m feeling better, in some respects, than I did before the operation. The chest incision still has discomfort and is tender to the touch and right leg still has pain, but Tuesday I noticed the swelling has subsided quite a bit. Monday’s 20-minute walk in the 100° heat caused the leg a lot of discomfort, so much so I decided to forego any walking Tuesday.
But I feel much better and occasionally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Neither the chest nor the leg will be an issue and I’ll be back in the game, physically better and quite possibly emotionally as well. The easiest thing to do is get discouraged and be depressed, sitting around watching TV all day or viewing nekkid women on the Internet. Nothing wrong with either until they become substitutes for living.
This rehabilitation will be completed when I can get in the ocean and go snorkeling for 20 minutes in La Jolla Cove. That’s when phase two kicks in: living a better, healthier lifestyle. Less fast food, more physical activity. Already my fast food consumption has dwindled to almost nothing. On Friday’s I get wild with In-n-Out or Mexican food from a place not too far, but for the most part it’s food prepared by friends or healthy frozen dinners.
With the occasional round of chips and dip thrown in. Some issues still remain. I have one friend who gives me rides a lot, Ilona, and she’s a vegetarian. It’s not likely she would allow me the pleasures of the In-n-Out drive through in the afternoon so I never ask. It’s like having a diet guard in the car and that’s a good thing.
Yes, I spend a lot of time watching TV, the news and The Real Housewives of Orange County, but this won’t last forever. The Trusty Trek is resting close by, unridden since the end of January and every time I walk past a warm glow comes over me—it probably saved my life. So, I look forward to the day in four weeks when I can finally get back on and pedal. Then I’ll really be living again. Calendar
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