What Does Sex Mean to Me

When I first moved to Boston in 1980, I discovered the band Human Sexual Response. LOVED them! Sadly, I only got to see them play once – they were doing a show outside on the MIT campus. I serendipitously happened on it while walking home from work. LUCKY me!

The Humans stood out in their heyday’s chiming guitar strum, jagged art punk, and bloody-nose hardcore for their insistence on putting on a show, for being as much Bowie and Motown as Gang of Four or Talking Heads. The Humans toured the country in their Checker cab, wearing their wearable dots and body paint. Their songs were college-radio staples. They should have been big. They were big to us. (Huffington Post) 

Damn straight they were!

I remember my roommate (Ellie?) and I turning (I Want To Be) Jackie Onassis up to 11, singing along (loudly) and pogoing our asses off. Undoubtedly our neighbors were less than thrilled.

In any case,  their hit What Does Sex Mean to Me began playing on the old internal turntable last night. Warum? Eh, a couple friends are having unhappiness in their respective bedrooms.

There’s James. He and Karen have been married for 500 years of so. Like with a lot of couples (most?) his wife, particularly after the kiddles came along, lost interest in sexy time. I’m just guessing here but I suspect that career/job stress, getting the bills paid, health issues and other random pressures eat up her exuberance too. James is very unhappy BUT there’s a LOT more to a lifelong partnership than just sex. He knows that, loves and appreciates his wife deeply. Leaving is not on the program.

Guitar God, Rich Gilbert

Still, she’s not into hot, creative, joy-joy time and he is – what to do? James could take the same road as a lot folks and have an affair. He doesn’t. He wants to have fun with Karen not some rando new person. He’s not an Ashley Madison, InstaBang kind of a dude.

What’s left? If convo and compromise don’t work out all satisfactorily groovy-like, there’s always porn and Mr. Hand. Disappointing but, hells bells, this is life – You Can’t Always Get What You Want.

The Amazing Bob and I, in our 30 year love fest, had our own sexy time variances. Ya spend that long with someone – shit’s gonna change up. We were able to, con mucho cariño, work through it. Just in case I hadn’t mentioned/sung this already, you can't always get what you want but if you try sometime, you find you get what you need.

Yes, my brain’s a little slice of musical paradise this morning. Here’s another positively orgasmic tune by HSR – Land of the Glass Pinecones. You’re welcome.

Back to the musical question, What does sex mean to me? Answer: Now? Dunno.
Since TAB shuffled off this mortal coil, two and a half years ago, I haven’t given it much thought.

I’m ridiculously keen on Thomas Ten Bears (AKA Ten) but I’m not a 30 year old macchina del sesso anymore. At 60, I just can’t envision swinging from crystal ballroom chandeliers, wearing nada but a tutu, whilst belting out Verde’s Brindisi again. Nope, not even with a team of buff spotters below. So, in this aspect, who the hell am I now?

Luckily, Ten’s up for an adventure. We’ll find out together.