Dear Dr. Miro, My gorgeous, brilliant, wife and I have really busy lives between our fulltime jobs, volunteer work and newly adopted twins lets just say: not a lot of together-alone time. I’m really worried we are going to have Lesbian Death Bed and as a result I wanted to try to schedule some times for us to have sex but she got angry at the idea saying I’m being selfish, our relationship is obviously in danger if we need to plan things like that and I should’ve thought of this before the adoption went through. This all really hurt me. Also, I thought she’d like the idea of putting this on our to-do list but no. We used to have amazingly passionate filled days and nights but there hasn’t been any of that since the babies arrived. How can I bring this up again with out feeling totally rejected or sounding resentful of the kiddies (because I’m not)? Sincerely, Lacking Sleep & Sex Dear LS&S, First of all, congratulations on your twins – how wonderful and exhausting for you both! The idea of scheduling sex for busy couples is really important. Special Sexy Mommy Time is crucial for maintaining that sensual bond that brought you together in the beginning. When you are sleep deprived from such a hectic life style it is hard to react to things upon initial hearing in a sane manner so, it is understandable your wife may have reacted in the manner she did. While on the surface the ideas of having a sex life AND raising twins being mutually exclusive may seem true, it does not have to be. Of course you are feeling hurt! You were already having attachment issues and this pushed you away further. It...
Sex On Your To-Do List? [Ask Dr. Miro: What You Didn’t Learn In Health Class]...
posted by Miro Gudelsky
If Music be the Food, Play On [Elbows on the Table]
posted by Kamille Misewicz
Food and music are two of the few things in the world that are universal. Sure some people don’t like peanut butter and some people don’t like polka. There is no person in the world who does not like music or does not like food. Both can evoke more than what they are. When you hear a favorite song, you think of that road trip you took when you were twenty one. When you eat tomato soup and grilled cheese you remember the snowy days you spent sledding when you were eight. Levon Helm, drummer for The Band, died last week. When I heard the news my thoughts inevitably turned to old family Thanksgivings. I think for most people, Thanksgiving is filled with WASPy simmering and unspoken frustrations, touch football and trying desperately to come up with something for which you are thankful before it is your turn to speak up before you can dig into your stuffing. Like most festivities in my house, Thanksgiving was barely civilized. I am the middle daughter of six intense and active children of two very passionate hippie parents. The one constant we had in holiday was The Last Waltz played on loop. Martin Scorsese filmed the last concert The Band performed on Thanksgiving in San Francisco. The Band wished everyone a happy Thanksgiving before performing for the last time with some of the eras most brilliant musicians, everyone from Bob Dylan to The Staple Singers. Even last Thanksgiving, which I spent in Paris, did not pass without me playing “The Weight” half a dozen times in my Saint Germaine hotel room. I didn’t need the turkey, but I did need The Band and the happy memories it evoked. Musicians and the culinary laborer have always shared a...
Tilting at Windmills: A Thanksgiving Tribute [Single White Nerd]
posted by Michael Kass
This year, I’ll be winging it to Chicago to spend Thanksgiving with my parents. Given past experience, I’m guessing that expressions of gratitude will be in short supply. So instead of saving up all my thanks for a Sharing Circle of Thanksgiving Fun, I reckon I’ll just unleash it on you fine folks. Here it is: A few weeks ago, I was invited me to tell a story into a microphone at a bar. I didn’t know anyone there and fell into conversation with a fellow performer, a musician. Let’s call him James. James appeared to be in his late 40s or early 50s. Tall, dark skinned, gregarious and clearly passionate about music. Very passionate. He talked to me for over 40 minutes about music. He expounded upon the importance of craft and how young musicians nowadays had none. Upon the mediocratization of music that had happened since the advent of the super-producer and vocalists who rely on computers to enhance their talent. He extolled the virtues of Elton John, Billy Joel, The Beatles—musicians who had no gimmicks. Just their talent and passion. That was real music, man. He spoke about his own work. The mysterious power that he, as a musician, had over women. How he sought to emulate his idols, perfect his craft or at least get better every day. About being a studio musician and craving the interplay between craftsmen. He made me want to pick up an instrument and become, if not a maestro, then at least reasonably proficient so that I, too, could experience that camaraderie and power over women. By the time he finished speaking, I was looking forward to seeing him perform. Surely someone that passionate would at least be interesting to watch. Two hours later, James...