Pig Envy.....Keeping the Global Economy Running (via drug sales)

Subtitle: Lothario’s Lament or The Pig Vindicated

Lothario, a character from days of yore, was known for his lamentation that regardless of how much cialis he couldn’t keep up with the pig. Research (citation needed) indicates that male pig orgasms last 30 minutes. In addition, rumor has it they're capable of up to 40 orgasms/session. (Most of the research is by men so the stats on female pigs are skimpy and questionable.)

Pigs, as you may have noticed, are not fat. In fact, they’re quite sleek and firm. Furthermore, their Mona Lisa-esque smiles hint at their true nature; a nature that is, if anecdotes be believed, both benign and solicitous. They’re easily house-trained and reputed to be smarter than dogs or horses.

Thus, we have to wonder at a culture that maligns such an intelligent and sexually staminatious animal. Is it yet MORE evidence of male envy? I mean, we all know the (stereo)typical male (why isn't it monauraltypical) response to anything that threatens their (alleged) supremacy: derogation or laying rubber. (I gotta lay SOMEthing, maaaaaaaaaan!!)

But about Lothario....Given that satiation in humans is an ephemeral experience, a common dilemma is, “What now?”

Ms. Peggy Lee’s answer is here...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qe9kKf7SHco
(umpteen plastic surgeries and STILL not satisfied)

Once, on a personals site, I glibly responded  to a query about where we'd be without our instincts with “Damfino,” the name of Buster Keaton's boat. I'd concur an instinct can be handy now and then, but being more a humanist than a Freudian, in general I prefer utilizing a bit of tho't. I mean, 99 out of 100 psychologists assert the biggest erogenous organ is the brain. But then, I wonder, did their studies include pigs?

Annnnnnd...I think the point of life is to have fun...

(SEE: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIb6AZdTr-A )

It's true, I probably think less about consequences than most. So when the opportunity arises -- as when she crooks her finger and wiggles it in that way recognized 'round the world -- I’m the first to encourage each and all to shed the shroud of social conventions and DANCE. (In case you didn't get it before....here's a second chance.)

And for those of you who are jus' chillin', my wish is that you're someplace where yer dancin' can be uninhibited, yer orgasm-induced screams are like those forest trees that don't give a damn if they're unheard and the skies are not cloudy allll ddaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy.

Pig Envy!! Helping fuel our drug-based economy.

Trevor - 1992 Aerostar XL

In those early days there was a .357 in that shoulder holster; I'd been living in the city too long.

Maybe someday I can check my journal to see where I was. The photo below, from the same period, is (worthlessly) labeled, "The Road Less Traveled."

Kusawa Camp

On a bluff overlooking the Takhini River, we spent several weeks watching swans fly by and reveling in nature's delights. Later, In November, she rode the bus down from Whitehorse and we spent six weeks traveling in Trevor, the Aerostar van.

On the Bluff

Takhini River

Roadkill dinner hit by

Border Patrol

The following was written about a camp when traveling through New Mexico and Arizona in November.

They say travel expands your horizons, but clichés are meant to be ignored, eh?

We had a rule -- regardless of where we were -- at 3:00 p.m. we'd stop and make camp. (Nomads RARELY have rules, but every now and then we try one just for fun.) The rule gave us time to unpack, make supper, enjoy a glass of wine and watch the spectacular New Mexico sunset(s).

So when the clock struck, Jozien slammed on the brakes, yanked the wheel over hard, bounced over the road-side ditch and landed on the two-track with all the Dutch determination used to invent the rule! The road, barely visible, led into some bland hills that looked like nothing more than a bunch of old muffins left overnight on the kitchen counter; not much fun. But hey, a rule is a rule, right?

As it happened, there was an arroyo with lots of dead wood. Jozien the pyromaniac, soon had  ten-foot flames keeping the evening desert chill at bay. Wine in hand, supper on the stove and sunset in full swing, we found ourselves truly entranced (New Mexico is known as The Land of Entrancement) as the local coyote chorus regaled us with a wonderfully polyphonic version of Ode to Sunset.

The next morning Jozien took off up the arroyo. You know how the Dutch can be, and she's no exception. She likes to walk IN the arroyo rather than ALONG it. This can be dangerous if there's a flash flood. But she is, first and foremost (after all), a Yukoner! In the desert the horizon can be 50 miles away. But what often catches your eye is barely more than five feet away....by your shoes. So being IN an arroyo kind of makes sense.

But this was no ordinary arroyo. It's sides began to narrow and heighten. Then, suddenly, she came to a small cliff. She climbed up and found herself in an alcove. Facing her, across a small depression, was an even larger cliff.

She approached the wall with caution. Feeling her way up, her tongue sometimes snuck out between her teeth (a childhood habit) as she concentrated....searching for hand-holds. But she made it.

It was like a cathedral! A huge wall enclosed an area approximately 50 meters in diameter.  And the vegetation was luxuriant! There was a huge oak, larger than any she'd ever seen in the desert; an aged piñon pine, several barrel cacti and through it all, birds flitted about while butterflies danced over a pool of water at the center. It was magical!

She sat under the oak and admired its gnarled bark and huge trunk. It had to be hundreds of years old! The birds were almost tame, but after coming within a few feet they seemed to grow bored and flew off. The silence was so intense she could hear her blood pounding in her ears. The New Mexico sky was so blue and the air so clean each breath was a delight!

And who would have guessed? This place, so magical it brought tears of joy, hidden among hills so bland. You can never be sure what you'll find when you venture onto the paths Less Traveled.

But it's amazing how often magic awaits!

 

North Padre Island

After leaving Eric's I went down to the coast. I've never much cared for large bodies of water, but, you know, it's sort of like being in Nashville and having to at least drive by the Grand Ole Opry.

Susan, Michelle's Mom, bought this Ford Aerostar XLT with the big V-8 for Michelle to drive to art shows around the country. When she stopped doing shows it sat under the carport as I preferred my 1999 Geo Metro hatchback that got 50 mpg.

Hauling the family heirlooms and archives to my brother's in Dripping Springs, Texas (outside Austin), required a large vehicle. Trevor, as he was knowed, did splendidly. Later, he was gifted to Suzan Shirley.

Eric's - February 28, 2010

 Dripping Springs, Texas

Chico made himself comfortable on my t-shirt. Notice his nonchalant foot against the water jug.

It's hard to believe I carried a "personal" trampoline -- at right, above.

There're ten acres but in order to be nearby, I parked down by the barn.

Enough room to spread out.

I was "into" scrubs in those days. After YEARS of living in the city I'd attained my all-time highest weight of 242 pds. (Same as I weigh now, 2/7/21)

Eric is four years younger. I was 58.

Enroute To Eric's

Texas was a disappointment, but once in a while there was some interesting architecture.

There was a suburb where you had to have a boat to get home.

And yard decor was a major source of distinguishment.

Luling (a town) offered the most diversity...

Note the finely-crafted steps...

Gingerbread !!!!

Roof & window Treatments....

Process....Not GOAL

....once we recognize the process nature of human experience and the infinite potentialities of human thinking and discovery, we give up hope of an orderly and completed system of thinking.

But having given that up, we are begun upon an intellectual adventure which has within it high excitement and genuine creative potential. Many of us will find the ambiguity and inexorable incompleteness of this approach to be threatening. Certainly I experience these feelings myself.

But I know too that once we change the conception of the enterprise in which we are engaged to that of exploration in an infinite system, once we give up the hope of making the ultimate and definitive discovery and recognize that our transaction with our experience of the out-there is a creative, artistic one, there is more to be gained than lost.

(From: The Search For Authenticity by J.F.T. Bugental 1965)

And if Manny (with cigar) sez it's so, it's so!

Originally, my first blogpost on January 23, 2011, I moved it to the beginning as I added posts that predated it.