Tuesday, August 22, 2006


I once wrote--

or the embodiment
of time
ticks on...
its tacit brass beating
the hours to pieces--
like the cut
of his scythe...

Or something thereabouts... And the funny thing is, I was young when I wrote it. You know, young and looking forward, yet full of assurances that you understood the ramifications of getting there.

Tee Hee...

Ain't that somethin'!??

For shits and giggles, I signed up on this web site called Hot or Not? That's me in purple in the little linky thing. I'm doing pretty good score wise. I'm an 8.6.

The trouble is, that was me at 38. There was no grey in my chin then. I was twenty pounds lighter than I am today. I could get away with not shaving and wearing purple sweat pants and a purple BLUES hat backwards and looking all pensive and stuff... I was still young, for godsakes. I was allowed to gawk at the bikini clad girls because in so doing, I made them feel pretty.

Now I think they think I'm just another perve.

What a difference a few years makes...

So I'm thinking of replacing the photo on the website with the one above. I took that one sitting in Mum's office where I come to compute. That's me. That's recent. Those are my jowls starting to form and that extra padding I never had before is beer and age accumulating as they both so often do.

If you know baseball and ypu've followed Barry Bonds' career, you'll notice he has put on weight. A once sinewy line drive hitter is now thicker in all dimensions. His shoulders are thicker. His legs are thicker. His neck is even much thicker.

Some people are quick to point out the steroids. I say, its his age. Right around forty I felt my shoulders thicken up. I'm stronger now than I've ever been. It feels like nature is giving me one last chance to beat out the young bulls. Just one more moment of glory to impregnate the herd before my time is up and I'm sent to the showers.

You see it in nature all the time. Old bulls and lions and hippos and water buffalos and orangutans and rams still hanging on to one more season of rutting. One more shebang in the fields before the young ones finally roll them over and run them off. There they are, scarred and onery, beating down the youthful with their thicker shoulders and a few wiley moves learned over time.

I like to think of being in my forties as being like that. (Of course the rutting fantasies might be a bit animalistic and lacking in proper PC appropriateness.) An old bull still holding some grip on terra firma. Fartin' and snortin' and carryin' on. Full of DNA that somebody might actually want...

Is it the package or is it the content within the package?

That question never changes.

So many of the women who present themselves on that site are quite lovely and very attractive and are recently or not too recently divorced and have a kid or two kids or three kids.

It saddens me, in many ways. Moms without dads. Kids without dads. Dads living back in an apartment while he frets over child support...

All of it.

It just seems malicious and cruel for fate to do that to people. The rope you trusted to sustain you in your life frayed and snapped in two. So many people falling in space. They're shouting out "I'm here. I exist. I'm human, and need a rope, goddamn it! Can you tie a knot?"

I'm tempted in my old bull soul to grab some frayed ends and just hold on.

Do I hear an 8.7?Posted by Picasa


june in florida said...

Scott get over it, you are young, extremely good looking, smart and the best part interesting.If you wrote a book i would read it cover to cover.Looks are one thing but after, when sex maybe is over there must be conversation and communication. So stop feeling bloody sorry for yourself, i know you will, you are a wise old soul.By the way you hear a "10"

Scott from Oregon said...

Hey June! I am so OK with my age it isn't funny. You know, I think I'm feeling much more empathy than sorrow for myself. I mean, I've been looking at ALL of these really beautiful older women, doin' their thing, looking for a man. They got two kids,three kids...

I want to hug them all. Be a dad to their kids. Move to twenty seven different states at the same time and soft toss baseballs to their sons...

What I'm feeling isn't sorry for myself. I guess I'm just feeling sorrow for the inevitability of the process.

(And part of me thinks I'm cheatin' in the contest!)

Thanks so much for droppin' by...

june in florida said...

Such a short fast trip is'nt it!

Nikky said...

Scott, you are hot. Not just physically, but mentally, too. (No, I'm not gonna go to that absurd site and vote for ya tho!!) If I weren't heading into year 14 of happily married bliss, I'd want you to come play hockey with my daughter! I love coming here and being amused by you. You have that quality that women look for, you're pretty yummy, AND you are a cool guy to be around. (Listen to me, as if I come over and sit in your living room and have conversations with you, I'm such a dork) You seem like you would be fun to know. I'm glad I know just this little bit of you.

Tisty said...

You are one bizzare man mr Scott. Just when i think I've got you figured, you do something really odd, like profess a desire to father stray children. And not just some, but lots. V. Wierd.

And I'm sure thats not old bullish at all. Aren't they more likely to stomp on the heads of some other bulls kids???

And for the record, I like your photo now better than then. There is more soul (and a little bit of grump)

PS I did vote and gave u a really low score. If you put the newer one up, I'll vote higher :D

Scott from Oregon said...

Well, tisty. If you've just about got me figured, you're one up on me.

Thanks for perusing.

Oh-- Thanks for bumping me up to a 9.1!!

(I think you hit the 10, thinking it was a one and a zero...)

I lifted your veil and saw that you are an 'unknown' from Australia.

Come back. Tell me something funny that I don't know...