Plea To Irene

Don’t want no hurricane,
Don’t want no wind and rain,
Don’t want no falling trees,
Don’t want to hafta flee.

Neanderthal Genes

There was a story in the (so-called) science news recently about Neanderthal genes. The claim is that some humans have genes that originated in Neanderthals. The implication is that humans and Neanderthals had sex. Separately, I saw on the internet that a big difference between humans and Neanderthals is that humans engaged in trade, and Neanderthals did not. They were not social in our sort of way.

It seems to me (but I’m not a scientist in this area) that the Neanderthal gene would mostly stick in the human gene pool when the mother was human. Mothers keep their children, whatever. It seems less likely that a human man would keep a Neanderthal wife. It’s possible that a human man would have sex with a Neanderthal woman kept as a slave, but I’ve never read of slaves in that era.

So what I’m thinking is rape; now and then a Neanderthal man would rape a human woman. How long until that thought makes it to high school biology class?

Tense

I’m really tense. I don’t know why. I think it has something to do with the Christmas season, and something to do with the end of the year. (My work has a lot of deadlines about now.) All should be calm, all should be bright.

I have some Christmas baking to do tomorrow. That should help settle me down.

Happy Christmas, everyone!

(Blogging may be erratic for the next couple days.)

Good To Go

The online magazines publish a lot of wearying material, but I found this article in Slate interesting. It looks at the science behind that warning to “Check with your doctor to see if you’re healthy enough for sex.”

I always thought that was an odd thing to put in an ad. First, the doc is doing the prescribing, so send the warning to him, not the patient. Second, if you are the guy who wants so badly to get back into action that you’re scoring little blue pills from the doc, you are not going to be offering some any excuse for him to say no.

The article puts sexual exertion in a wide middle band of activities from putting away groceries to swimming. That’s so wide as to be not helpful, unless you toss the canned goods into the cupboard from 60’6″ away, Nolan Ryan-like. We also learn that sex can be calm, sex can be vigorous, but to be really exciting, it should be with a stranger. Who knew? Everyone. Perhaps we should remind ourselves that not all excitement is good. Driving a car off a cliff probably raises your heart rate substantially. For a few seconds.

All that text about sex and heart attacks, and no mention of snow shoveling. I guess in the 21st century, everyone has snow blowers.

Review of Week?

From time to time, I’ve had bosses who wanted to see a weekly summary of work done. Tedious to compile, tedious to read.

What if we collected summary statistics on our personal lives? What categories would we keep track of?

Chores? There are always chores.

1. # times lawn mowed
2. # loads of laundry
etc.

Then we have categories with both routine and highly rewarding aspects.

3. # routine meals
4. # better than average meals
5. # really good meals
etc.

And, of course, the highly personal categories

6. # hugs
7. # kisses
8. # times masturbation
9. # times sex

What statistics would you track?

And the really big question, how often would the weekly totals look bleak? How often would it look like we were getting the most out of life?

Not Mused

My muse has left early for the Labor Day weekend. I have not thought of a single worthwhile thing to post. I suppose it’s a minor case of writer’s block.

We can put some of the blame on Earle. He/It raised the anxiety level, but it’s pretty clear we are going to be spared any sort of strong storm action. It’s gonna blow the hell out of the Cape Cod though.

I do have a few plans for the weekend. I’ll get the boat out on the water, and I do have a few boat chores to do. And maybe some stuff around the house.

And, umm, get laid. Plenty of time for that over a three day weekend.

Primary Report From Connecticut

Last Tuesday was primary day in the Nutmeg State. We had races for governor and senator. Among the contests were three (3) candidates of the “I’m really rich and I think I know better than anybody” school of politics:

Ned Lamont. Currently my Representative in Congress, he ran for the Democratic gubernatorial slot. He comes from a family with a fortune from cable television.

Tim Foley. Ran for the Republican gubernatorial slot. He’s rich businessman with no political experience that I’m aware of.

Linda McMahon. Former CEO of WWE, formerly WWF, the World Wrestling Federation.

The parties love candidates like these because they are self-funding. McMahon, in particular, spent a bundle of her own money. What a very bad reason for choosing a candidate.

So, the only one with political experience, Lamont, lost. I voted against him because I know his opponent, my former Mayor Dan Malloy, is honest and a very good administrator. The other two won, money talking. There is the consolation that they are both republicans and will probably lose in the fall. Their opponents are reasonable, I guess, but I don’t have a lot of enthusiasm for either.

But at least they aren’t rich turkeys.

[Well, Blumenthal, who will run against McMahon, is rich. But, he has several elections and a large number of years of public under his belt.]

Choices

I hope life never presents me with any choices at hard as these.

1. Lindsay Lohan, or Jessica Simpson, or Paris Hilton, or Britney Spears?

2. Sting, or Bono, or Prince?

3. Kirsten Gillibrand or Michele Bachmann?

4. Nancy Pelosi or John Boehner?

5. Linda McMahon or a dung heap?