Passion and Porn by Doc

“Are you watching porn again?”

“No, dear…. I’m playing a video game.  Why?”

I heard her grumble.  “Well, you used to watch porn all the time.  I figured that since you aren't 'getting any' from me, you’d be whacking away in there.  What gives?”

“Honestly?   Most porn lacks ‘soul’, spirit, errrr…. Humanity.”  I didn't need to say that, but .... she asked a question.  My response sounded dorky.

“And that’s a problem?  I thought you just liked to see naked people having sex….”  She sounded irritated.

I decided not to comment.  How do you explain that once you’ve seen it all – a zillion times – that you look for something deeper than just flesh-on-flesh.  You want ‘passion’!  

It’s strange: when you use the word ‘love’ around the ladies they all seem to know what the word means, but the guys…. The guys either look at each other, puzzled, or smirk.

Likewise, you ask women about ‘passion’ and you often get similar blank stares.  Most of the ladies I've met seem to know love and they also understand indifference.  Many even seem to understand pleasure and comfort and orgasms, too.  (Cosmopolitan magazine?)  And then there are those who look as if they’d overhead something disgusting.  (It takes all kinds to populate a world – even those who ‘do it’ to only, and sadly, satisfy the ‘needs’ of a male.)

But, I thought, ‘passion’ is frequently an orphan word.  It lives on the planet of adventure and curiosity and fun.  It is as distant from most porn as abstinence is.  Orphan planet wandering with no star to illuminate it.

“You sure are quiet in there.  Are you still playing that video game – or are you watching folks fucking on your computer?”  She didn't approve of me and my computer.  It was an obstacle for her.  A frustration. I considered answering, but trying to explain that I was writing my ruminations on passion would be futile.  One doesn't discuss rainbows with blind people….  I chose not to respond.  She didn't follow up.

‘Passion’.  I decided to look up the definition: “a strong feeling of enthusiasm or excitement for something or about doing something”.  Yes!  I felt like pumping my fist in the air!  “Feeling” was the first word that leapt off the page.  “Excitement” was the second.  Yes!

Then I heard her again.  “Have you taken out the trash yet?  The garbage men will come and you’ll still be on that computer doing – whatever you are doing.”

I replied, “Yes, dear!  I’ll get right on it!”  And I did.  I took out the garbage.  And later I vacuumed.  (The carpet was sadly overdue for it.)  I thought as I vacuumed about porn and passion.  I wondered if many men went from porn channel to porn channel in a long search for passion in a flat, bland, comfortable, boring and – ultimately pointless – world. I wondered if many women would understand the male need for adventures, for passion, for excitement, and men's desire for women willing to jump outside of the standard “American dream” of consumerism and bland comfort.   It had been a long time since I’d been pulled along by an adventuress.  They had all vanished from my life when I finished my college days.

Now, sex with a woman of daring – now THAT would be something to turn into true porn.  Definitely! And then I did the obvious:  I decided to look up the word “pornography” online  Hmmmm.  “Printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity, intended to stimulate erotic rather than aesthetic or emotional feelings”.  Ambiguous.  What about a display of sexual activities intended to stimulate BOTH erotic AND emotional feelings?

“When you finish vacuuming, you know you didn't wash and dry the dishes, right?”

“Yes, dear!  I’ll get on it right after lunch, OK?”

“No, I want it done right away.  Otherwise you’ll forget or you’ll start making excuses… That's not a request.  It's a command.”

I went to work.  She could hear the water running in the sink so she didn't ‘get on me’ again.  She knew I was washing the dishes. The thought, "She had ears that a bat would envy!" ran through my head. "Never ever let that escape your lips," I told myself.  I knew the analogy, though meant analytically, would never be taken that way.  She would 'read between the lines' and what she read there would mean big trouble for me.  I could write a book on ways to upset women.  I knew my mind was wandering so I brought it to heel and focused it on the real issue.

 “Perhaps this is what female domination is all about”, I thought, a wry smile on my face, but I knew better.  It just had to involve at least a little of that elusive and orphaned thing called ‘passion’ too.  Right?

 I felt very protective.  In a world of routine and porn I felt as if I were one of a few silent guardians for that abandoned and ignored child named “Passion”.  I decided that even if I couldn't fly high above the world and have an exciting and passionate and abandoned life, I was still doing ok.  I knew that my life was still meaningful as long as I guarded passion deep inside my soul.

After I washed the dishes I polished the silver.  It was turning black and needed work.  Passion would have to wait.  I had chores.