Author: Bookish Butch

Cloudy and gray,

just in case you wanted to know.

Quiet Sunday ahead.

Food shopping, a visit to the green market and a walk by the river with a new friend.

I had a busy week,

 people were strange, preoccupied and not quite on.

Next week is bound to be different.

I hope.

I have been reading , writing and sleeping sporadically all week.

I had a major discussion the other day in the bookstore.

Ever feel like you are a Martian when you hear people speak on some subjects?

One of my friends, she knows who she is,

 would say being a Martian is a good thing,

Stranger In A Strange Land  and all, but,

sometimes it’s lonely as well.

Anyway, the discussion,

The topic was finding a potential mate, lover, whatever, via Internet dating services.

One of the girls was saying,

 that it’s really hard to find someone with whom you connect

on an intellectual basis.

I replied, of course it is your basing everything on a picture and a paragraph description.

Physical attraction rarely indicates intellectual and emotional compatibility.

At least that’s what I think.

This other woman who was in the bookstore said  that to her,

physical attractiveness was everything.

If she doesn’t find a man attractive and envisions sleeping with him in the near future,

there is no possible relationship.

I said but, that’s just physical,

 how do you know if he’s funny or smart or kind.

This woman says that physical tells you about lifestyle and compatibility.

So, here’s where I feel like a Martian,

 to me physical attraction grows with how

smart, interesting and kind a person is.

 Obviously, there can be no repugnance factor, but,

really it grows. 

A friend says that’s why I never get laid,

I have to know someone for months, sometimes years.

Honestly, I think my method is  flawed,

I have built relationships that I felt were

destined to work and they haven’t ,

so maybe the physical thing is most important.

But, I don’t think so.

What do you guys think?

Henry James a writer who I’m not really fond of, had a great quote:

“There are 3 things in life that are important;

the 1st is to be kind, the 2nd is to be kind

and the 3rd is to be kind”

Sex is an important, almost essential, part of life but,

 someone who makes you think, laugh,

who never bores you and,

 who is kind to children, old people and animals,

 that’s what I’m looking for.

I’ll keep plugging away.

Thanks for putting up with my midlife crisis ramblings.

Later girls

BB

The sky is blue and so am I.

OK, more pensive than blue.

But, I had to get the weather in there somehow.

I have been reading both James Agee and Raymond Carver.

Fabulously realistic, sensitive writers.

Very male and with a phenomenal ear for how people speak.

Also, the insight into the quiet or sometimes raging desperation of peoples’ lives.

You read this stuff and you think

“how could I write anything this good, this powerful, this real?”

The answer is,

 I probably can’t but,

 we can all write our truth.

The problem is knowing your truth.

I have told you all about what I have dubbed,

 The Summer Of Hell.

It hasn’t been The Summer of Hell because anything really bad happened.

No one died and no tragedy of any other kind took place.

But, I have been sad, enraged and hurt most of the Summer.

I’m hoping to snap out of it.

But, I don’t think it’s a snap type of a situation.

I’m lonely.

Not for intelligent conversation or laughter,

 not for warmth and friendship.

I’m lonely for a woman’s arms.

I want to lay my head on a shoulder,

I want to feel the weight of a woman’s head on my chest.

I want to watch TV with my head on her lap.

I want to wrap my arms around her waist as she stirs her sauce or pours her tea.

Push her hair back and kiss her neck.

It isn’t about sex,

well maybe a little,

but, it’s mostly about love.

I am blessed in my life,

I’m being redundant,

those of you who read this blog, know,

I have oodles to be grateful for, and I am.

I just want a love to call my own,

 and someone who gets me and whom I get.

My friends get me. My mom and family get me.

They sometimes think  I’m weird, neurotic and crazy, but,

they get me.

Now, I want someone who gets me and,

 regularly feels like ripping my clothes off.

Just, not, my new L.L.Bean chambray shirts.

It’s a brave new world my friends.

Filled with more open mindedness about sexuality,

at least I think it is.

But, you know it’s not a gay, straight, bisexual kind of thing.

A lot of people are lonely, this I know, I see it.

But, many of us have trouble connecting on that level.

Maybe, it’s a trust issue, maybe there is a need to expand our horizons.

Maybe, I’m wrong and it really is just me.

For years, I had never even considered bisexuals as a possible possibility.

But, you’ve got to grow.

Men are my friends,

they are beautiful and strong and shoot from the hip.

Some of them are aesthetic marvels,

Cathedrals or Davids.

But, women possess me,

 heart and soul,

 it’s how I’m wired.

Women are it for me.

But, for other people both men and women work.

Actually, us one hundred percent gay and the one hundred percent straights,

seem to be in a minority.

Like I said brave new world.

It wasn’t about being closed to bisexuals it was about not really seeing,

so,

 blindness.

 The Summer Of Hell and finding my truth are about this.

I have been missing love in my life and I have been missing truth

and I am going to find them,

what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,

so,

bring it on.

Later girls

BB

Well it is done, the sidewalk sale is over.

Hallelujah!

All in all it was OK, can’t complain.

Helped me to renew with many nice people, which is great.

The weather?

Well, we went from wilting to…

it’s a little bit cold and I’m happy about it.

Air and wind good stuff.

Up here in Montreal we didn’t see too much of Earl.

Sympathies to those who did.

The air is starting to feel like HOCKEY.

I should be visiting some friends in Toronto at the beginning of October.

I am going to take the opportunity to visit The Hockey Hall Of Fame.

Can’t wait it’s a little dream of mine.

Part of my life list.

Any of you girls have a life list?

Today, I’m going to take it easy and go for an early dinner with my friend Sylvain.

Tomorrow? Who knows, but I plan on reading I haven’t finished a book in a few days.

Which feels like a long time.

Reading is my joy and my solace, it gives me strength and pleasure.

I don’t know if that sounds silly or dumb, but, it’s almost as important as my friends.

Well girls that’s it for now.

My love life is still crap.

But, at least it’s cool and I can sleep and read.

Later girls

BB

This day started hot.

I figured it’s going to be hot and a write off.

But, no it was fun.

Lots of visitors and clients.

A great end to the day, lovely dinner in delightful company.

Can’t beat that.

It’s nice to be appreciated.

I hope I haven’t jinxed the rest of the sale.

Later girls

BB

It’s hot.

Enough said.

This week is the dreaded sidewalk sale on the street where my Bookstore is situated.

We have two a year, I hate them, exhausting, much ado about nothing.

I imagine I won’t have much time to read or post on the blog.

I’m still reading My Life As A Man by Philip Roth.

It’s well written and compelling but, I don’t know, it’s doesn’t really speak to me.

I’m looking forward to the Fall.

I have always loved the fall.

I get nostalgic for a return to school.

The smell of books and newly sharpened pencils.

New corduroy pants, shiny sneakers that you want to smudge so they don’t look,

 too new.

I no longuer wear corduroy pants or sneakers.

Jeans and Blundstones for me but, still,

nice memories.

To me, fall is a time for settling down and getting comfortable.

Long walks in the brisk air.

The wind wiping away the crap from your mind.

I don’t think it will be that kind of fall.

More like upheavals and change.

Change is good.

Right?

I’m working on the novel.

I really want to do it.

You all have a good week

Later girls

BB

First the weather,

 it is perfect.

 Clear blue sky, cool breeze.

Sleep is once again possible,

let’s hope it lasts.

Next, hockey season is right around the corner,

 I can’t wait.

Yeh.

I haven’t been reading much lately.

Well, actually I haven’t been reading much I can talk about.

A friend asked me to read her novel, which I did.

It’s good. I’ll tell you all about it,

 once it’s published.

If, she wants me to.

I’m still working on the Philip Roth.

I find myself impressed by the language.

With me, that is not the best of signs.

I like to get lost in the plot, in the characters.

To be fair I’m only about fifty pages into it.

I’ll let you know.

What I have been thinking about this week,

the merits of slow.

Slow food,

can’t beat those slow roasted chickens,

 or a beautiful stew that has been bubbling for hours.

Slow love,

letting it develop,

learning to appreciate the precious moments.

We’re talking long walks on the beach, here girls.

Reading can be like that as well,

 taking the time,

 not riffling through it like you’re in a hurry.

Years ago,

 I read this article,

 probably in the newspaper,

that said Canadians who are big readers read about fifty books a year.

I said to my ex, I must read about fifty books a year?

To which she harumped and said,

you read way more than fifty books a year.

I started keeping count in a notebook.

It’s usually more like a hundred.

In 2008, I had a big year,

 one hundred and forty three,

 that’s a lot.

But, you know what?

 I read a lot of crap that year.

Don’t get me wrong,

 I like thrillers and mysteries,

well mostly mysteries.

Some of them are very good,

 and those are the ones I read,

now.

I seemed, that year, to be consuming them more than reading them.

It was like scoffing down Big Macs or having multiple quickies.

I like a Big Mac, twice a year,

 and I have no problems with quickies.

Filling the void, scratching the itch.

But, I prefer slow roasted chicken and long love making sessions.

I have been reading slower lately, and I like it better.

Letting the story wash over you.

Those of you who read my blog on a regular basis know that I have been having

a quasi mid-life crisis.

No shit, Sherlock!

You get to be forty-five or so,

You start asking yourself , Is this what I want with my life?

Am I ever gonna get  me some Love of a good woman?

In other words you panic.

It’s as if I woke up,

 and all of a sudden,

 wanted to get all the things I crave.

Now.

Well, I’m going back to my appreciation of slow.

Not coma or inertia,  just slow.

What’s my hurry, it will come.

He Also Serves Those Who Sit And Wait,

I believe that is Milton,

 and I think I am going to live by those words for a while.

Later girls

Be good

BB