Let me first say, I have not read the book ‘50 Shades of Grey’: Yet.
Of course, this doesn’t stop me from having opinions and expectations; but the fact is, up until this point, everything I know about the book is from conversations. The comments I’ve heard range from a scornful “It’s just porn for housewives!”, to a blushing father of four who says “It hasn’t been this crazy since our honeymoon!” I have a friend who, based on a magazine article he read, say, “This is a ‘blue print for life’ every 19-year-old guy should read!” Admittedly, he had not actually read the book, however.
With all the hype and fanfare about this social phenomenon, I don’t know how many have actually read the book, or are merely basing their comments and opinions on conversations with other “friends”, daytime talk shows, Saturday Night Live skits, and hushed restaurant chatter.
The only thing that seems for certain is the quantity and intensity of orgasms have increased across this great land of ours.
I decided about two weeks ago that I would read and blog about “50 Shades of Grey”. One of the curious aspects is how long it has taken me to actually start. While I have been very busy work wise, and I can always find a reason to procrastinate, by nature I am a “Ready – Fire! – Aim” kind-of-guy. Shear ego typically spurs me on to follow-through on such a public proclamation. I’ve thought about picking up the book, but actually haven’t. I have found myself resistant to actually “just doing it”.
At some level I’m afraid I may find myself drowning in a pool of ignorance. What if I’m doing something wrong? What if I’m not good enough? What if I learn something new? What if this opens up my mind to a different perspective? Ugghhhh! Sounds like work! (I like to think) I’ve arrived at that point where there is nothing more shallow and distasteful as condemnation without prior investigation; yet I hesitate. Ignorance really is bliss.
Why am I hesitating to explore something that might be different? (‘different’ based on discussion I’ve heard).
Intellectually I know that humans have about one billion nerve endings. One billion! I know I can’t possibly know all the combinations, codes and techniques that create emotional pleasure through physical contact.
Spiritually, I know that anything that inexplicably, and spontaneously, culminates in “Oh God!”, cannot be as evil as some of our puritanical roots would have us believe.
Physically, I’m just not the man I once was. Can’t an old dog learn new tricks?
I’ve only been married once, and only for 31 years. I’m hardly qualified to consider myself an expert on boy-girl relationships. Do I owe it to my bride to be willing to explore the depths of our love? There’s continuing education for nurses, accountant and real estate agents. I’ve always believed we should have it for parenting. How about sex?
Maybe I’m afraid if I start reading, I won’t be able to put it down. I do, after all, have an addictive personality. A colleague told me his wife “raced through the three books, and now is reading them again; slowly, savoring each page.”
What if sex just spontaneously breaks out?
Since the book has been in our home, my observation is it can only be read in 20 page increments; then a break is needed. (I know, it sounds like a college chemistry book). I have noticed some other changes as well. The grass needs to be cut, the vacuum cleaner needs to be run, and the recent AARP Magazine with Denzel Washington on the cover is still on the couch, open to the spread of Jon Bon Jovi and Samuel L. Jackson. Just sayin’…
Do I have the courage to keep an open mind?
Well, here it goes…
I scowl with frustration at myself in the mirror….