The Talk

Even "nothing"?

 

Do you need to borrow it?

 

Nope. I'm set, sir. But who knows down the line?

 

Especially nothing.

 

I've got nothing in my fridge. I'll send it over sometime.

 

Of course not, dummy.



















It's in my couch so I can easily refer to it when my wife is in the mood.

She does wonder why I run into the living room every time we're going at it, but I tell her it's just a superstition.

 

I don't know who was more uncomfortable when we got our first lesson in elementary school. They had all the fifth grade boys go to the library and our principal, one of the only male teachers in the school, showed us a film strip. Very basic stuff, I just remember a lot of us laughing. Good times.
The big talk from the old man was simple, "don't do anything stupid that you will be reminded of every day for the rest of your life." I don't think he was thinking of me when he said it, but you never know.

 

I learned a lot from Mrs. Letourneau in sixth grade.

 

I've never been so embarrassed in my life — not for the conversation or the topic, but because Dad felt it necessary to chat with me and my middle-school best friend.

Jeremy came along with us for a convention in the Bay Area. At this convention, I start making out with this chick in the hot tub while Jeremy's swimming laps in the pool. Then we all hear, "Get up here right now," from this head hanging out the window.

It was her mom.

She goes up to her room. Dad stopped Jeremy and I as we got back inside. He just glared at me, silent, and directed us to a table away from the hotel bar. We're still dripping wet from when he sat us down and bought three slice of cherry pie (warm apple was gone, I guess).

Dad reminded us of the nuts and bolts — we'd both known since we were seven or so since he lived on a farm and Dad is an FFA advisor — then went into the implications of STDs, importance of condoms and a much longer speech about being respectful to women.

Never saw the girl again, and more importantly, never ran into her mom.

 

Hwy101 talks with his Dad.

 

My mother led some clinical and philosophical discussions, but I needed better descriptions.

Luckily, I was coming of age at the height of the sexual revolution and a variety of manuals started becoming readily available. First there was "Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask)." It was soon followed by The Joy of Sex, another big seller. Then came "The Sensual Man."

Of course, my parents purchased these books and, of course, I "came across" them under a few scarves and weighed down by a flashlight in in the second draw of mom's bedside table.

The rest I picked up in lunchtime discussions at my junior high school and, later, by trial and error.

 

I had a sister who hit puberty while I was younger, so that natural spawned some questions. A book ... the name of it I can't remember ... was given to me that described, in rather graphic detail, not only puberty but sex and pregnancy. It was actually very helpful, although the drawings of grade-school girls progressing to middle school, then high school and on, were a bit embarassing because I didn't really want to think of my female classmates in that wait.

At least not then.