This week’s theme is about sex education. I usually post a link to my stories in Facebook but I think I will skip this one so if you are reading this, it means you are one of the lucky followers or someone who has accidentally stumbled onto something you perhaps thought would deliver an epiphany. HA!
Sex education – are you serious? I know most of my readers are ladies so today you get to read the boys’ perspective on this topic. Here goes:
Girls got sex education. We boys got, well watch this clip from San Kinison to learn what we boys got in this area. In this clip, the answer is presented between 4:10 and 4:45. Sam is very raunchy so if you can’t handle this, please don’t watch it. (And contrarily, if you laugh then watch the whole thing – I have seen a lot of live performances in my day and Sam’s made me laugh so hard my sides hurt).
We boys got sex education from wherever we could. I didn’t have a big brother to ask questions to and talking with our parents about sex? Please – I would rather have eaten a box of toenails from a homeless man. My parents never spoke to us about sex, at least not the boys. It was an unwritten law that we each figure it out any way we could. If we were successful, we would get the honor of propagating. If we then made it to ‘The Show’, like Sam says in the clip, we would be on our own to figure out if we were actually doing it right. The smart ones would figure out the techniques and might get to propagate again someday. The poor losers would be subjected to forever hanging out at Weight Watchers or Subway, hoping for an occasional table scrap. It’s a simple method of making the species stronger. Survival of the Sexiest.
I was one of the lucky ones who had resources to tap into and so in this story I only want to share my very first lesson. My education began at the tender age of 6 when I happened to have walked into my parent’s bedroom where my dad was casually lying on the bed, glancing through a Playboy magazine. This was to be one of those pivotal moments I was to never forget. I asked, “Dad, do you like to look at these pictures”. My dad – “no son, I just like to read the articles”. True story! (All of my stories are true, by the way).
Some time after this episode, I stumbled upon the stash, the hiding place for the girlie magazines. I had hit the jack pot and I had to share the secret with my friend Tim. Our house had one bathroom. Back in those days it was quite common to have a chute which ran from the first floor bathroom to the basement. It was called the laundry chute. Our chute led to a small wooden ‘cage’ which hung from the ceiling in the basement. The laundry chute/cage doubled as a hideout for the girlie magazines. For a couple of years, (until we got caught), Tim and I would occasionally sneak down through the laundry chute and into the laundry cage so that we could check out the new issues.
And as Sam has pointed out, we boys never got any formal or official “education”. I am tempted to write much more about lessons 2 and 3, but my conscience is nudging me – stop now Rob or divorce lawyers will start dishing out lessons 20 & 21. So I will just say this much – there was a huge gap of time between Lesson 1 and 2. As it would turn out, Lesson 2 was to occur 11 years later, a practice session, on the job training one might say….a story for much, much, much later.