Tag Archives: President Barack Obama

Boys Will Be Boys. Thank Goodness!

Boys, boys, boys.  Men and gentlemen.  Players.  Soldiers.  There are so many of you in the world — and thank goodness for that!

You beautiful creatures that are born as our sons, then grow into our men; but then again, despite of our occasional complaints, so many of you remain our children — even as our husbands and lovers — and so many of us would NOT have it any other way!  Because when you stumble out of our beds early in the morning, scratching your bodies — youthfully supple or gracefully aging — when you clumsily rummage through our cupboards, then reach for your favorite cereal (which we’ve memorized long before learning your Social Security Number, or your mother’s birthday); when you pout, whist still barely awake and unaware of your age — you make us, women, wonder about the little boys you used to be; and in that moment, you are indeed — our sons.

And there is no higher praise to your manhood — and all the abilities, endowments, talents and skills that come with it — than when a woman chooses you to father her own child.  Because somewhere along loving you, we begin to daydream about watching that same sleepy face reappear in the cribs of our firstborns (and that pout!  oh, that pout!).  And when it is time for our children to start stumbling out of their beds, we will weep at their resemblance — to you.  It’s ALL dedicated to you! 

Because we too wonder about your teaching our sons how to throw a ball or a punch; how to shave (or whatever else you, boys, do behind those closed bathroom doors:  we love you, but we don’t really want to know); and how to choose the right socks or the right girl.  And we too desire for our daughters to worship you more than they seemingly do us; to adore you enough to look for you in their choices of men who, of course, will never be up to your standards.  (Because it’s always different with daughters:  They turn our men into pussycats.)  

You stubbly creatures of the opposite sex:  How you can break a woman’s heart with a mere aloofness or a deficit of attention; but then to build her back up with a single curious gaze that so many of you still don’t know how to execute without being unnoticed.  Please don’t ever stop giving us compliments, even if — and especially if — they won’t get you anywhere!  Don’t censor your praise of our hair, or eyes, or earrings — compliments that make you sound like an admirer of beauty, even if you haven’t figured out its source.  You often have no idea why a certain woman makes you turn your head (while hundreds of others can pass you by unnoticed).  And even if your compliment doesn’t earn you our time or phone number, please know:  It is never taken for granted.

The rougher men who have suffered through difficult lives and mean jobs:  You still have the ability to inspire a woman’s fantasy about being lifted with those capable arms of yours.  Some of us fall in love with women:  their grace and softness, and the way they manage to always smell so sweetly.  But for those of us who still adore the other gender:  It’s your physical ability — your capability to always be stronger than us, to stand taller, to be more ready — that makes us worship you until heartbreaks.  And when you do those things we needn’t know how to do (change a tire, fix a sink; negotiate with a mechanic or a cabbie; catch a fish or play the stock market), you make us feel safer.  And for that rare, fleeting sensation in life — we are forever grateful.  (A little secret though, boys:  Some of us have learned how to do those things, but we’d rather watch you take over.  Thanks.)

Those smooth players who choose to move through their lives as gentlemen:  How ever do you know where to buy a suit and when to tailor a jacket?  Who’s taught you how to be decisive about our first date’s destination and time; and how to settle the tab without making a fuss?  When do you make up your mind on whether or not you will ever wear cologne or the style of your underwear?

Your stubborn choice of your own higher standards — your substance — will continue to turn us on until the end of civilization.  Don’t ever stop getting our doors and chairs; lifting us over puddles or carrying us out of fires.  Continue to show up on time, to come through with your word (a man’s word!); to tolerate our emotions and to guard your own.  Insist on asking for our opinion on those pastel-colored Banana Republic shirts, but remain authentic to your taste (and always devoted to your collar stays!).  Know the best dry cleaners in town but don’t mind us if your dress shirt — is the only thing we want to wear while fixing you a sandwich.  Do send us flowers and hand-written notes.  Do make the first call, but allow us to keep the illusion that we — have the last word.  And the sooner you let us have the remote control, the sooner you can take us to bed.  (But you may also proceed on the couch.  Or the floor.)

And when you do undress us, fumbling with our buttons, or bra hooks, or garter belts — all too dainty for your rough, manly hands — continue to study us as if we were a work of art (perhaps, while unawarely pouting).  Or your dream car.  Or your dream girl. 

Oh, to the modest smile of Paul Newman and the intelligent squint of Robert Redford; to the swagger of George Clooney and the slight indifference of Clark Gable; to the promising ability of Steve McQueen and the effortless power of Bill Clinton; to the mastery of Obama’s self-deprecation and the reserved grace of Eastwood; to Denzel’s esteem and Jay-Z’s universal rule:  To you — we sing our odes and griefs!  To you — we give our youth and dedicate our sex.  Because no matter how many times you break our hearts, it is YOUR love that we continue to seek; and it is ONLY that love — that makes us better women.  And thank goodness for that!

(But don’t you worry:  We will always return that last favor, no matter how late in life:)

Hesbians of the World: Unite!

I thought I would wait till Friday to rant on this upcoming bit — kinda give you V’s lil’ Week in Review then — but the venom is rising quicker than I predicted.  This morning, it choked the living breath out of me before my alarm had a chance to wake me with its hideous drill at the regular five o’clock; then crowded my brain as the first waking thought.  And I pinky swear:  I’ve even started blackening my smooth electronic page with the tale of a girlfriend’s woes:  she loves him, he can’t commit, she’s torn, “Where is all this going?”, etc, etc, etc.  But a discussion of these valid and delicate and somewhat vague struggles in a heterosexual couple seems a tiny bit gratuitous when nearly every day of this week, I’ve hung my head with painful despair at the injustice and pure violence placed upon the men and women of homosexual orientation.

The week started with my introduction to an atrocious event I’ve never even heard of before.  It came as link on a Facebook page of a woman mentor I adore so much that every word she utters and every choice she commits I lap-up as my personal, private sermon.  That badass chick has devoted her life to traveling with her three gorgeous adoptive sons in tow, settling in primarily Third World Countries and teaching.  She is currently working with children and women in South Africa, blasting her always poignant, sometimes political and often humorous observations on the newsfeed.

“You go, with you badass self!” I always think when I read her words, wishing I could be just like her when I grow up.

So when the following link came to my attention, I treated it with immediate empathy:  https://secure.avaaz.org/en/stop_corrective_rape_6/?rc=fb.  To break it down for you, my comrades, it speaks of nearly a year old series of continuous attacks on South African lesbians by men on a mission to cure them of their homosexuality via “Corrective Rape,” and in the case of Eudy Simelane, murder — acts that the country’s government refuses to “prioritize as a specific project.”

“Corrective Rape”?  ‘Scuse me:  I gotta go hurl my guts out!…

…Okay, I’m back.

While dripping venom onto my keyboard, I hurry to acknowledge that you, my magnificent comrades and readers, aspire to comprehend humanity already.  Just by the response of those of you courageous enough to handle my rants on the daily basis, I am willing to conclude that, just like me, you prefer to see this world be dominated by kindness and compassion; you choose to understand it and, what’s most crucial — to learn about it.  So, you don’t really need my venomous heaves on the subject of rape — the most heinous crime the human race could think up.  But to violate a woman due to one’s overwhelming hatred, ignorance and lack of tolerance, and then to treat that act as one of public service — that’s hubris beyond all comprehension.  And since you, my magnificent walking proofs of goodness, are already on the same page — my fuckin’ page! — I call upon your awareness:  http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/africaandindianocean/southafrica/4982520/Lesbians-subjected-to-corrective-rape-in-South-Africa.html.  If mere knowledge is not enough for you, however:  Go do something about it, my glorious badasses:  https://secure.avaaz.org/en/stop_corrective_rape_6/?rc=fb!

On the hump day of this week, the world regurgitated another piece of info that got V all riled-up:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/03/30/us/30immigration.html?_r=1&ref=us.

Considering my liberal mindset and my own history of immigration-related strife, the news of deportation of foreign-born partners in legally married homosexual couples — is a double whammy.  Yep, I hear some o’ ya’, comrades:  Gay couples can finally get married in, like, six states already!  So, shouldn’t that be enough?  As another magnificent mentor I admire says:

“Fuck no!”

(Well, actually, he’s Russian; so, “Fuck nyet!” — he said.)

Now, I’ve already cast my vote in favor of this country when I took on its citizenship; and, by now, Shiva knows, I’ve taken full advantage of the freedoms that it has granted me.  (Read my “ranty-cunty” blog at:  fromrussianwithlove.wordpress.com.  Spasibo!)  But, when it comes to tolerance — it is never enough.

How does that one-of-a-kind, world’s youngest phenomenon’s Declaration go:

“WE hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal…” (Fuck da!)

“…that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”

(Mmm-hmm, I just copied that out of my own personal booklet I was given with my American Citizenship Certificate, at the standee of my first brown President!  V — be very, very proud!)

“Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.”  Now, doesn’t the mere founding theory of this country give you a hard-on?!  I got me one!  So, as the world continues to throw-up the tales of human inventiveness in ways to hurt each other, may we continue living-up to the better principles and the basic human rights that started this magnificent experiment in the first place.  May we continue to grow and change; and as in any relationship, in the one we have with the rest of the world — may we affect it in all the right ways.