xtcian

8/9/02 Sex is such a

8/9/02

Sex is such a complicated issue in being endlessly fascinating, yet ruined by overanalysis. Nothing is less sexy, to me and most men anyway, than hashing out sexual issues either before or after the act itself. Of course, like Ron Shelton wrote in Bull Durham, a guy will listen to anything if he thinks it's foreplay, and certainly talking dirty has its place in the porn lexicon (I think I majored in phone sex from 1992-94). But the analysis of sex itself in the cold dissection of hard daylight is pretty much a guaranteed soft-on.

I'm not much for sweeping gender-based statements, but many of the women I've known, including the brilliant and beautiful Tessa, are what I call "momentists," folks who really dig on the deconstruction of singular moments that happen to us, going over conversations had 5 minutes ago with a lice comb, taking great pains to find out exactly "what happened." I appreciate the philosophy of "being present" in the moment and understand its appeal, but being a dude, and a fairly hyperbolic one at that, I regard past moments with the same care jazz singers give to passing tones; it was simply a way to get from there to here, and it was probably embellished a little. Needless to say, we butt heads about this stuff a lot.

I mention this because we saw a perfect example of "sex momentism" today in a documentary made by Tessa's friend Leslie, a DV piece about a couple that seeks a solution to each other's hang-ups surrounding orgasm. I should really say it was a "mockumentary," because it was populated by actors and was really quite funny in a low-budget Guffman sort of way but its relentless hashing-out of all things sexual could have only been written by a woman. She did a great job of portraying the man's scarcely-concealed horror at having to go through tantric exercises and seeing a sex counselor, willing to have a his prostate probed if only to settle the matter once and for damn all.

Tessa and I plan on getting couples therapy before we're married I look at it as a "kicking the tires" sort of thing – but I know it's going to be a struggle for me to participate as much as I should. Tessa is actually very cool about this stuff (and would never make me do anything I don't want to do), but the desire to "not talk about the relationship" must be shackled to the 'Y' chromosome or to MY chromosome, because I think we're doing fantastic and have a ages-old desire not to muddy the dockwater. One thing age has given me, however, is the ego to accept that my ego doesn't know everything, and I'm willing to do a little couples therapy with the old Jewish adage: "It can't hoit!"

But on to the really important stuff we got Sean some candy-red Nike Shox VC Hoops shoes for a belated birthday present - which reminded me a little of the time in 1976 when I got him a basketball because I wanted one – but since he's playing hoops with bad knees on Astoria's famously crappy asphalt courts, I thought it would be nice for him to have the best shoe currently available. Thanks, of course, to the miracle of eBay, where I've made several friends who seem to work in the bowels of Nike, whereby certain pairs of shoes tend to "fall off the back of the truck" and "into their hands." It was another stroke of luck altogether to find the Nike Mique Women's Hoops shoe for Tessa, but now she, too is ready to take on all comers in Columbia County with her devastating 10-foot floater.

After dinner, Sean, Jordana and I went to see Full Frontal, the new Soderbergh movie, at the 23rd St. googleplex. A fun but unsatisfying ramble through one of Soderbergh's inside jokes, it may have the unfortunate effect of making people think that all DV features look like dogshit. I wish everyone could see the trailer for The Pink House; they'd understand what DV is capable of these days.

Ian's Leftist Pinko Freak Vegan Comment of the Day: okay, so they took out all the porn shops on 42nd St, but does anyone else find the proliferation of corporate neon crap reaching hundreds of feet into the air equally if not more offensive?

Jordana, Sean and me battle the trash, homeless, black Muslims, white Christians, Australian tourists and Sony on our way to the movie on 42nd St.