Saturday, May 10, 2014



                                  *      *      *      *
         I feel as if I'm coming back to you
from a long distance away... and I haven't
gone anywhere. Times have changed. And the
Status of Men has changed.
      In the mornings, sometimes I read a little poetry. in the afternoons sometimes  I write some prose. Some days I am forced to take certain medications or alcohol, and those days it's usually best if I don't  talk to anyone or do anything at  all.
         Sometimes disaster strikes and I get very busy indeed.

            The other day I drove out way past Redbridge
and I picked up an old pal of mine. He lives in a place
you can hardly see from a side road that's hard to
find.You have to do a quick left turn and weave around
some poplar trees and bushes. Then you have to drive across a small stream, which some days is deeper than
it looks.
           Elmer lives on a deep lake. I had a bad scare
on that lake once. I was out relaxing on a paddle boat at 3:30A.M. I didn't have to worry about bugging the neighbours with my  chants and howls... because
the  neighbours were non-existent.
          I was doing a little fishing. I had a line in - about
150 feet of line - descending into the darkness of the
lake. As I say, it was way past midnight, so the deep lake
was dark and where I was sitting it was dark, also. A few
flickers of stars above and that's all.
          Something grabbed my line and started towing
the paddle boat forward at about 3 or 4 miles per hour.
It was dragging me across the lake! I weigh over 200 pounds, so I was in the grip of something quite
powerful, something that lived 150 feet below the surface.
         I looked behind the paddle boat and I could see
a wake, white water churning behind the paddle boat
in the middle of the night. It was almost luminescent.
         I started shouting, "Get the net!  Get the net!"
but no one heard me.
         Whatever it was that was towing me - I lost him in the weeds. The 20 pound test line was severed neatly,
like something had cut it with scissors. 
          The paddle boat kept drifting until it clunked
against the shore.
          What had been towing the boat?

           I have to figure it was a sturgeon, weighing
in at over 100 pounds.
           Elmer suggested it might have been a large weasel swimming ahead and towing the boat, just to fuck with my head. A demented weasel  with a twisted mind  laughing at me, laughing at the whole universe and having
 fun at my expense.
           I didn't want to think about weasels.There has
been  weasel trouble farther north in WAIT-A-BIT! 
There have been some embarrassing aspects
to the incidents that occurred.  No one wants to talk about weasels very much, or the sort of things weasels
might get up to.
           No one wants to talk about it.  I promised
not to say a word.

             I find Elmer in the outhouse reading the
Canadian Tire catalogue, or maybe it's the
Sears catalogue he stashes behind his back.
             We drove back down to North Bay, so Elmer
could get his supplies.
           I took him to a supermarket where he likes to
buy things. I went off to shop a bit myself.
           I returned to his aisle to find him acting
in a very strange way towards a woman who was
shopping ahead of him down the aisle.
           The woman had blonde hair. She was about
fifty and was wearing a skirt  about four inches 
above the knee. The skirt was a little bit tight
and the woman had nice substantial hips.
She was dressed in an average fashion
for the 21st century. There was nothing
extreme about the way she was dressed.
            Elmer was being a little extreme, however.
He was acting in a bizarre fashion - for this calendar
year and these times.
              He was rolling his eyes, sticking his
tongue out and making it quiver in the air towards
the woman. She didn't know him from Adam.
              She turned around to see him sticking
his tongue out in her direction, grabbing his
crotch with both hands and making humping motions
towards her with his hips, like a goat trundling after 
a she-goat in the yard.
             The hip motions and the tongue action, all at
once -  it was the sort of activity  you might expect to see in a barnyard but not in an A&P. And in the barnyard
you'd expect an animal to be doing it, not a human

               Soon as I stepped into the aisle,
 I caught the vibe.
              The woman laughed at first. But then Elmer
made a quick move and pinched her left bum cheek,
sticking out his flickering tongue all the time.
           Now she wasn't laughing.She hurried away
from  Elmer, when he didn't stop his
obscene humping sub-human  mating ritual.      
              Her face had gotten red and she was
talking into her cell phone, making a detailed
report to 911.  I knew this was what she was doing.
              I had to grab Elmer by the arm
and hurry him out of the store. He wasn't
happy about it, but I made him leave his shopping
cart in the aisle. I rushed him into my car
and drove like hell out of the parking lot.
             I could hear the sound of sirens already
as we made our escape.

             The last time I drove a car, gas cost
37 cents a litre. It seems like no time at all
to me, but I guess it has been a long time.
Time has been passing me by, also, and I
don't always notice the change in fashion.
         As the years roll on,  if you start drinking
heavy, ten years will blow by in the wink of an eye.
And like the snap of your fingers - two decades are
gone, if you don't pay attention.
          Everything feels the same. I feel the
same. But as the years go racing by, no one
looks the same.Whether we know it or not,
we start to look kinda rough.
          I don't have the same raging hormones
as I had a short time ago, and I don't follow my
dick around town as much as I used to. 
          Elmer, however, had not noticed
any changes in social etiquette in the past few decades. 
He hadn't noticed the changes in social mores for this
reason - he had never been very social.
              I know this older man i his nineties. He told me
this:  "When you're eighty, you feel the same as you did when you were eighteen, except you can't
jump out of a chair as fast."
          "Don't look for some major changes when
you're 'growing up' . Nothing really changes except
you don't look the same - well, let's be honest - you start
to look like shit, but you feel the same."
        "Oh," he said, "I'd give anything to be seventy-
five again!"
         Just like him. I go days without looking in the mirror and I suppose a person who pays attention to clothes
would notice my socks don't match, or my sweater's
a different shade of purple than my hat. I don't
care about such things. And I suppose it shows.
       I'm sometimes out of touch,myself, and I don't care
        But Elmer's in a different league than I am,
when it comes to obtuse eccentricity and not
paying attention to what's been happening recently
 in the last few years.



               I've been a sadomasochist
since I was six, at six I was hanging myself from
trees by unorthodox body parts. Way back then I
was weird.
               So nothing's changed with me.
But the other day I was looking at a site
and a magazine and I asked: 
              "Hey, where did all these old guys come from? When you turn 55 do you suddenly have to have your ass whipped in order to have sex? Do you perform better
if your date follows you around the bedroom with a cattle prod?"
                No, this isn't the situation.  I made this discovery. Thousands of guys in their fifties and sixties don't immediately turn into perverts, as soon as they pass the age of 55.
                Nope, their tastes don't change that 
much. So what's the difference? There was a story here
and I had to get to the bottom of it. These old guys
don't all of a sudden jump into S&M, I discovered...
 Not at all.
              Reality intrudes into their lives. Facts change
and so do circumstances. And it's best to
notice these things.

             Now, if they want to get any, these older fellas
have to take some rather embarrassing steps.


If they want to get any, that is. These old guys are not
 perverts! They're just desperate!
                 Desperation is something I understand. 

                 Begging and grovelling has always kind of aroused me. 
                 So I don't mind crawling on my stomach and saying, "PLEASE! PLEASE! PLEASE! let me kiss it  one more time!"  
                       This is what foreplay is for me. To me it's sexy,
it's fun and I enjoy it. And it doesn't bug all of the
ladies all of the time. Some ladies quite enjoy watching
a desperate fool making fast hand motions on his

                                 But this massive influx of old guys,
into S&M, this discovery has taught me one 
of the facts of life. These guys  probably would 
rather have normal sex, but they can't get it!
                 When ya gotta beg ya
gotta beg! Might as well enjoy it! This is my
philosophy. Forget the code of the west and be practical.
This is my view of the situation.

                  It's important to remember, though,
that things change. Styles are different and
you can't get away with the things you used to
do in public 30 years ago.
                 If you have an urge to do something
aberrant, it's good to pause and ask yourself,
"How important is it to me to do this thing I have in mind?"
In other words, think before you act...And read
a few newspapers.
           If you want to join the human race once
again, you might need advice  before crawling out from
 whatever appliance you've been under, or from whatever bush you've been  hiding behind....
               If you decide to leave the junked car you've
been living in as the years have passed you by, it's best
to read a book on etiquette before you step outside. Or even just read a cheap magazine -  you'll see the way the land lies, you'll see how fashions have changed in the
last few decades.

              I mentioned "women's liberation" to Elmer.
I asked him if he'd ever heard of it.
              Sure, he'd heard of it! You know what he
told me, ever so sure of himself : "Yeah!  Women's Liberation. Of course I know what it is!  It's the brand name of a medication the little gals take to relieve menstrual distress."
            If you insist on perving on some woman you desire, it might cost you more than you're willing to lose.This line of conduct might have consequences you never dreamed of 40 years ago.
         For example, here's a tip. You're not allowed
to pinch a woman's ass in the supermarket anymore.
And you really can't give her right bum cheek a smart
resounding slap.
          You might get more than a slap back!
          The fact that you don't come to town
very often, that's no excuse!         

          The truth is - they cart you off to a psychiatric hospital if you act like that these days.
 if you're lucky, they'll only snip off one testicle.
           Times have changed!
            And for a second offence? Well, they'll
snip off the other one!
            It's O.K., they tell me. Because Doctor Bloch
promises he'll keep your balls safe for you, in a mason jar.
And you can visit them any time you want, providing
it's during hospital visiting hours and  it's not
a government or a bank holiday.

                                                                                    (C)2014 by W.G.Milne
                                                                                     All rights reserved.

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