If you spend any amount of time in a LTR and any amount of time reading say The New Yorker, the New York Times, or anyone who likes to think they have the key to the internal workings of the great American mentality, you run up against, again and again, the dispensation of the Grand Emotional Truth. GET, for short. As in, do you get it? Do you understand that love is different than lust and the never the twain should meet in a real romance? Even when your not getting it, because that getting of it is just porn, and they (the great herd of smart received wisdom about love and sex) all know what that is.
Like fuck they do. The NYTimes pubished a story about a couple of couples who decided, egads!, to see how many days in a row they could do it. They made sex into work, and found out that, "hey, this seems to have helped our intimacy!" The average American couple does it 66 times a year, and most figure that figure is higher than it really is for those who have been in a LTR, because we all know young couples do it at a higher frequency. And eventually reality/boredom comes to play its well known cards and the GET holds that slow death as normal.
I started writing this blog about a year ago because I wanted not only to show off and play with my wife, but because I think that what passes for the GET amongst American couples and described in the media, high and low, sucks eggs. I don't want to get all political here, but there is a reason why we are a country prone to violence, prone to over-eating, prone to Prozac, number one in the world in prisoners kept and keepers of a high divorce rate. Simply put, the Puritans were wrong about fucking, folks. They didn't get it and what they left as a foundation for sexuality in this great nation is as bad a legacy as can be imagined. Someone please show me the great happy normalcy that is the foundation of our greatness. And as the readers of this blog know; it doesn't exist. It never did. And occasionally the ones that seem so sure that porn killed romance piss me off so much I have to vent. I'm betting that romance has killed more than porn ever did. At least if death equals begging your wife for a blow job.
What I mean to engage is the truth that if you don't have a working sex life, its gonna be damn difficult to have intimacy, and intimacy is the salvation of "romance." It nearly the definition of romance. The intimacy that partners can share by know each other's bodies is the fundamental root of our romantic worlds. The smart set of folks who have all read too many novels and lost their physicality in the grand narratives of the GET, those folks will never get to understand how a show like Swingtown or whatnot might have something bigger to say than "Friday Night Lights." I know that we all want to think we are special, and that our special relationship is a gift of fate that makes sense of what we are to do with our time here, but what if that is not so? We make our own realities, and to the extent that we have the guts to trust our own desires as good and not bad, we can garner something that feels a lot like the freedom we all cherish so well, and practice so poorly.
After a year at this blog, I've got to come clean even as I plan on posting more nekkid wife pics. There is a battle out there for the sensibility or our nations sexual and emotional truths. First thing you need to know is that its plural not singular. Something swinging sex bloggers are pointing out with every post.