A pet theory
of mine around the widespread use of penile erection-facilitating drugs
(Viagra, Cialis etc.) and the apparently millions of Medicare dollars spent on penis-pumps
has as much to do with boredom as it does the ravages of aging and
atherosclerotic disease affecting penile veins. I am extrapolating here from my
own personal experience of course and exceptions for some would be the real
nerve damage often related to prostate surgeries.
When I was
twelve a hard-on seemed to be virtually a permanent waking and often sleeping
state of being. The slightest friction or even the most innocent male image,
genitalia not even required, was enough to get there. Organisms once I began to
indulge in them regularly were easily a several times a day pleasure requiring
only minimal effort and stimulation.
To say that
that level of excitement today is a rare thing would be an understatement. What
now can take literally an hour or two of perusing internet porn or 45 minutes
of foreplay with a friend, at times I’ll admit aided by a bit of Sildenafil,
used to take only 10 minutes to reach an explosive climax.
Now there is
definitely something to be said for the longer and certainly more intimate
cuddling and foreplay leading up to fruition. I would love to think that this
is related to maturation on my part and an appreciation for the art of true
lovemaking and genuine care and concern for my partner. Being male though and
believing that our true imperative may really be a lifelong drive to “fuck it
or kill it” (h/t Ken Wilber) I am forced to wonder what is really going on
here. Do I think for a minute I wouldn’t like to return to the sexual
excitement of forty years ago? Oh and of course to the same firm ass and flat
belly of those days.
As mentioned
above I certainly think that the accumulation of atherosclerotic plaque, not
only in our coronary arteries but also in our dick veins is a culprit here.
Looking back though at my own sexual history if you will I have to say that
over time I could quickly get bored with what turned me on. Is a mediocre
ejaculation with a half assed hard-on after thirty minutes of effort more a
function of ennui or ageing? For me personally I am going with the boredom. Not
that I am in denial here, I am sure my arteries are as sludged-up as the next
aging American male.
Is it boredom
that really is the goose if you will that allows someone to progress from
getting off with a bit of print porn or just the simplest of visual images to
hours of S/M bondage with endless aides and props? Or why do so many go from
getting satisfaction from a finger to a fist? I mean does your prostate really
care about the “size’ of the stimulus?
For example if
the image or time spent with another real human is just right then things seem
to work just fine for me. So much of what precedes this though seems to hold
little erotic interest and I seem to think this is not related to anything more
complicated or mundane than boredom. Perhaps the task at hand for me is to
appreciate more the long periods of boredom during sex for the often-genuine
expressions of love they can be. I mean I am now semi-retired with much more
time on my hands
The examples
of men getting into trouble at all ages in search of what is described as
excitement or risk are of course tediously endless. Pick up any newspaper, turn
on any TV show etc. 24/7 and the examples are rife of men doing stupid things
in pursuit of a happy ending. Risk of course could be the default mechanism we
have honed to deal with boredom. Have gay men in the past been “forced” through
oppression to seek sexual gratification in very risky situations or on a more
mundane level have we simply been seeking to tackle a crushing boredom?
Let me close
by saying that women, especially lesbians, are much more evolved in these
areas. They seem to have, and perhaps this is my own ignorance and not true,
replaced boredom with the rewards and satisfaction of true intimacy integrated
both in and out of bed.
For us men
though perhaps this is all a testament to the fact that most sex is for us
crudely physical with our limbic system connected directly to our cocks, but
what does that really say except that maybe the average male, gay or straight,
has the attention span of a gnat?
© April 2014
About the Author
I was born in La Porte Indiana in 1949, raised on a farm and schooled
by Holy Cross nuns. The bulk of my adult life, some 40 plus years, was spent in
Denver, Colorado as a nurse, gardener and gay/AIDS activist. I have currently returned to Denver after an
extended sabbatical in San Francisco, California.
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