Yes Steph, old people do have sex
A dear friend’s father died recently and the onus of sorting
through his personal effects has fallen to her.
She happened upon a cache of love letters, (written after her parents
divorced,) to her father from several women - and then some letters written by
him, returned when he and the woman parted, (okay an aside here from me: is
that not a weird and antiquated custom?
I doubt it happens anymore although there was a time when one saved
every relationship memento, and when the relationship failed, returned them all
in a churlish act of disdain. Take that,
you bastard. See how I treasured you.)
So my friend is telling me highlights from the letters. She actually read them. And the replies. And I’m hooked, although horrified. What child wants to read parent’s love
letters? Maybe love letters between
one’s actual parents - if they’re not too graphic. Let’s toss out those with a sketch of a
studly guy riding a Harley with an accentuated boner. I don’t want to see that from my father.
A little back-story, just to get this in perspective. My friend’s father is from a well-respected,
pioneer era family, who’ve done many good works in their lifetimes. Prominent and privileged with an image to
maintain. I knew him. So I’m listening and relating while hearing
bits and pieces from the letters, when suddenly the sound of “sorry to have
shocked you with the remaining 13 months of my prison sentence.” Something to
that effect. Holy smokes, this is just
so damn funny. Huh? “I’m writing you from prison.”
Predictably that relationship didn’t succeed. In the words of the great John Prine, “It’s
Christmas in prison, and the foods real good. We got turkey and gravy and guns
made of wood.” Holy smokes.
Thank you Mom and Dad.
You didn’t leave me with a bunch of embarrassing stuff like love letters
from somebody else or sex toys. This was
where I was going with this story. Sex
toys.
So I’m 20 years old and, let’s face it, fairly naïve. Okay, perhaps totally naïve. Give it a chance, I’m gonna tie this all
together.
So I’m 20 years old, am friends with two brothers – and
their parents, with whom we play marathon games of pinochle. The boys are helping their parents move and
happen across a box of sex toys.
Sex Toys. Whew. They spill their guts to me. We are so appalled. I can only speak for me here. I am appalled because: 1:
They are so old.. Do they really have sex? Okay, just blur that image… Ugh.
2: It’s friggin creative. Wow.
Do you have to be creative to have sex when you’re that old? Along with bells and whistles?
I lost it with the sex toy mode.
What I’m saying here is that I won’t be leaving love letters
for my daughter to find.
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