Short story: Preach It

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Knocking boots in a small town

It is an interesting correlation between the population size of an area and the activity of individuals who engage in alternative lifestyles. Perhaps it is the sense of anonymity in more urban areas. However, that is the fundamental issue of why some people choose to live the lives they do and where they choose to live. In a small area where there the potential for shaming because of behavior, the conforming to local norms actually leads to greater anonymity; people don't actually know you and all your desires.
In contrast, when you engage in certain behaviors in a region with many people, they may not know your name and, perhaps, they will never again see you, but they will know something about you that few other people do. In the best of all worlds, an adult will be able to live in a community where he or she is allowed to explore and play as an adult, but is not ostracized or marginalized for their actions.
Case in point, in a small town, such as in Fort Bragg, California, if an adult engages in an extramarital sexual relationship, it is considered an affair or “cheating.” If both parties of the marriage consent to the relationship or both have their own extramarital relationships, the gossip will run like wildfire before the wind. Even though there are about 7,200 residents in the town, it is still too small for any truly outlandish behavior. ,br. People will know and they'll talk. Which is odd, if you think about it. If people are do interested in other people's sexual business, why don't they just admit they want to have frivolous, friendly sex, too?
In contrast, in Santa Rosa, California, a city with a population of 171,000 or so, it is quite simple to find clubs or groups dedicated to alternate lifestyles. The two towns are separated by about a three-hour drive, due mostly to geography rather than actual distance, and yet they are so very dissimilar in their community's approaches to interpersonal relationships. The two might as well be on different planets.
Down the road in San Francisco, it is a veritable playground for those who seek alternative fun. Granted, the city is host to millions of people, but it is one of the icons of debauchery in the Western world. “Free love” did not end in the 1960s and the reality of HIV in the 1980s only made people take more precautions, not be more moralist.
Compared to San Francisco, Fort Bragg is Puritanical. Indeed, for a notoriously liberal county, Mendocino County seems like a shriveled prune of virtue.
Why?
Why does a county that at one time was a haven of communes, complete with nude sunbathing, now fly high the flag of convention and conformity? With all the places that are free from judging eyes, why there are not groups organized for hiking the woods and intimate play in the sun? Why are there not fall pygmy forest rutting socials? At the very least, visiting friends deserve a friendly oral release while taking in the breathtaking views along the coast.
Now, if two people choose to engage in a monogamous relationship, that is their choice. That should not be considered, however, the societal default, nor should it be particularly encouraged if both partners are not mutually interested in exclusivity, especially in small towns. The very nature of rural areas allows for greater opportunities to play outside away from disapproving and judgmental eyes.
Granted, if you want to put on a show for people to watch, go for it. I wholeheartedly encourage exhibitionism. Grab some friends and go for a roll in the hay.

Splitting hairs

We live in a society that targets the visceral in marketing, but rejects public expression of sensuality or even sexuality.

Every ad and every store display is designed to get us to act based on how we feel about an image. It doesn't matter if it's a restaurant chain, a car or truck, or even baby food, we are rarely asked to purchase something based on dispassionate and objective standards of quality and utility. If that were the case, nobody would buy fast food.

Often, these appeals to passion are associated with images of beautiful people having a wonderfully enjoyable time with each other, generally with the marketed item intimately involved. From beer to trucks to computers, there is an undercurrent of sensuality and even eroticism involved.

This sensuality and eroticism stops when we step out of our front doors. While store displays may offer continued imagery of partially naked people, there is a social standard for not discussing the naked human form, even when we are standing in front of one. Sometimes even when we are standing in front of a clothed attractive person.

The best example is when I am dealing with women I feel are attractive. They might be already married, too young or much older than me, but I would consider having sex and sleeping with them. I have no standard of physical beauty; I don't have a type. But it would be exceptionally crass of me, by our standards, to comment on a woman's attractive characteristics, except in certain defined circumstances.

It is obvious when men and women are going the extra step to appear attractive, but it's generally considered awkward at best, and harassment at worst, to actually mention how attractive he or she is.

It also considered bad form to obviously react to such attractions. Consider breasts.

As a man, I love breasts. I wish I could be surrounded by naked breasts all day. I also love cleavage, which requires some sort of garment to create. While I would love nothing more than to drink in the sight of deep cleavage, no doubt I would offend a number of women and their significant others if I did so, to say nothing of actually complimenting a woman on her cleavage.

And if I were acquainted with a woman who is critical of her breasts because she is judging them against the images she is shown all her life, I would be equally out of line to assure her that her breasts are lovely. I would either be considered inappropriate or only thinking of them sexually.

Of course I am! I am a heterosexual man!

Why exactly has it become inappropriate for me to tell any woman that I think she is beautiful?

Because of certain standards which have developed into words like "discretion," "propriety," or "politically correct." These contemporary substitutes for "sin" and "immoral" are still the flagellation of the weak handed down by New England Puritans.

There are, to be sure, a subset of the population that embraces the sensual and sexual as a lifestyle. While the 1960s gets the fame for "free love," it was the 1950s that established the cliche of the swinger. Think Mrs. Robinson, but a decade earlier.

These people, however, still act in accordance with mainstream society's mores. It requires something of a focused effort to find resources for such a lifestyle and its members do not advertise in their day-to-day life. It is called "discretion" and it is the very core of the hypocrisy of our world.

We are sensitized from an early age to hide parts of ourselves, even to the point of hiding aspects of ourselves from our most intimate partners. We do this because there may be other people in the world who do not agree with what we think, feel or do. We separate our professional lives from our personal lives.

That hypocritical splitting of hairs, that arbitrary distinction between private and the rest of the world is the kernel of unhappiness and isolation. From it grows only darkness.

Here's to new beginnings

Hello, my friends!

As you can tell, this is a brand new blog. At the suggestion of several friends, who all thought that developing a blog would increase how many people read my stories, I have set forth on a little digital adventure.

I am sure you are curious as to who I am and what I do. I am Paul Wolff and I write stories. And that will have to do.

For now, this is my one entry. As time goes on, I will post my observations of the world, particularly that aggravating hypocritical relationship that America has with lust and visceral pleasure. This may take several forms and include some seeming disparate topics, but ultimately what I will address is what feels good, in a balls-deep, pit of the stomach way.