Thank You, Georgette

On my journey to perfect health, I am grateful to many people. I would like to thank just a few, one at a time. First up is Georgette, pixie, surfer, artist, who sends me the most life-affirming messages and creates fairy photos from run-of-the-mill snapshots, like these two gems she fashioned for me. Thank you, Gette!

In All Fairness

In all fairness, perhaps the reason men don't make a move on me is not because there is something wrong with them, but because I somehow fall short of what they're looking for in a mate or even in a casual lover. Not sure what that something is, but it's certainly not fair to blame them if they aren't interested in me.

After all, the plumber (see previous entry) was sleeping with someone else during the times we weren't going out. And a man who started off our first date about a year ago by saying he wanted a platonic relationship with me has been thinking of marriage with someone else. And one man who couldn't do anything in bed went on to find a wife with whom he honeymooned in Paris, while another of the same ilk found the love of his life and the wildest throes of passion he's ever known.

And in all fairness, it's been four years since I've had that delicious feeling of a steel band being pulled tight across my chest. So the truth is that though these men haven't been interested in me, I haven't been interested in them either.

Four years ago, at my friends Rachel and Matt's wedding in Sedona, I had a few hours of giddiness and a few wonderful kisses in a golden-leafed woods and then a few more in a hidden corner of the Flagstaff airport. I came across photos that Heather took of Charlie and me during that afternoon. The glow in our faces is unmistakable. What an incredibly beautiful feeling that was. Ah! If only Charlie hadn't been married.

I remember him telling me of a woman he met while traveling in Alaska as a young man. He had been alone for some time, and this stranger made room for him in her bed one night. One of those magical, fleeting moments. He said that she told him that maybe the experience that they had together would open him up to other relationships, other women. And that is exactly what happened. Love started to stream into his life.

I remember, four years ago, how Charlie said that he wished that for me too, that our kisses would be a catalyst, propelling me into someone else's arms. Well, Charlie, it's been a rather slow trajectory because I have yet to make contact. But a lovely thought and a kind wish nonetheless.

Obama Gives Me Hope--For the Bedroom

Obama is giving a lot of people hope. Hope for change. Hope for improved foreign relations. Hope for an end to this insane war. Hope for the middle class. To so much hope, I would like to add my own: the hope that not all middle-aged men are afraid of or uninterested in sex.

At 47, Barack sure seems to put some zing into his kisses for Michelle. I get a true sense that they have "something going on," that it isn't just a marriage of show but that Barack is excited about Michelle and that she's got a thing for him. This is so good to see!

For the past nine years, I have not dated one middle-aged man who was interested in sex and who could show his stuff in the bedroom. For example, for the past eight months or so, I've dated, on an off, a man who strikes me as being physical. He's a master plumber, a man who has been a Formula One race car mechanic, the kind of guy who could build a house from the ground up, someone who definitely knows how to work with his hands. He is down-to-earth and earthy. What one might call a masculine man. One would think that he would be hot to trot, but no. So often I have encouraged him to sit close to me. I have put my hand on his knee or on his thigh. I even gave him an hour massage. All to no avail. He has done nothing more than give me a few closed-mouthed pecks, sort of like what you might give your auntie.

Unfortunately, this man is the rule, rather than the exception. Actually, I have not had an exception in these past nine years. Not sure what's up. I've even consulted with my son, and he concludes that this must be a middle-aged guy thing because it's certainly not the norm for his age.

So when I see Barack kiss Michelle or make goo-goo eyes at her, I think, Maybe not all middle-aged men are uninterested. Maybe there's an Obama out there for me somewhere.

There must be at least one middle-aged guy in America who is interested in a tall, slender, good-looking, intelligent, playful blond. And not just interested in my wit and my masterful conversation skills. God, let's hope so!

An Urban Paradise

This past Wednesday I met Elliott, a young man with big dreams. Elliott has founded Urban Paradise, a nonprofit that seeks to turn Long Beach into a garden and in the process promote the arts and help its citizens grow their own food.

Elliott is so inspirational! He has the "vision thing," and I told him that he is the answer to my prayers. For years, I have been wanting to live and work on a permaculture farm, but I have had to admit that, as my health is up and down, I can't commit to days of manual labor. There are days when I just wouldn't be able to, quite literally, hoe my row. But still I yearn for a means by which I can help build community through the self-reliance of growing one's own food. And then along came Elliott.

I attended my first meeting of Urban Paradise yesterday afternoon at the corner of Ocean Boulevard and Pacific Avenue, right in front of the 10' x 40' plot that the city is allowing us to plant with drought-resistant and native vegetation as a test project. If all goes well, Urban Paradise hopes that the city will rethink the huge park that rests atop the main library.

I have lived in Long Beach for 27 years, and this is the first I ever knew of this park. It's huge! The land on which the library sits was bequeathed to the city decades ago on the condition that the land would always be used as a public park. So the city built a park on the roof of the library. Up until 15 years ago, all was fine. Then the roof started leaking, so the city didn't repair the roof, but ordered that the plants in the park not receive any more water. Consequently, most of them died. However, Elliott and Urban Paradise have big ideas about revitalizing the park, making it green again with vegetation that doesn't require watering.

This space is simply amazing. Huge planters. Performance spaces. Walls on which murals might be painted. What was once a fountain. Just think what could be done here: classroom-sponsored gardens that teach children about the earth, concert and performance spaces, places for artists to beautify the walls, projects with the homeless (there are so many in the park on street level) that might encourage them to tend their own rooftop gardens, as has been done in San Francisco.

These are only two of Urban Paradise's ideas. The ones that I am even more excited about are using vacant city land for community gardens and working with Parks & Rec to plant fruit trees in parks rather than non-fruit-bearing trees. That way, food can be simply picked from the branches by the people who frequent the park. What a wonderful, life-affirming idea! And so simple.

I have offered to be Urban Paradise's writer-publicist-proofreader. Perhaps someone out there reading this blog will feel inspired to share his or her talents to make Long Beach into an urban paradise.