Coitus

Coitus: (n) physical union of male and female genitalia

I think I was about nineteen years old when I realized it was much more permissible to talk dirty when you used scientific words.

You could then open up the conversation to pleasantly naughty subjects by making sure you didn’t use gruff language or street lingo. No one is going to consider you appropriate or intelligent if you say “screw” if “coitus” is available.

One of the powers of this process is that there’s always someone in the room who is not familiar with the term, so you can explain it in detail, and therefore make yourself look quite virile.

In other words, “What is coitus?”

Answer: “A very good question. I guess some people would use terminology like ‘screwing, humping,’ or even the ‘f word,’ but ‘coitus’ is the term scientists have pushed forward to represent that natural interaction of two human beings when they’re involved in the process of love-making.”

Honest to God, at this point everyone is leaning forward, having lost interest in the s’mores they just made over the fire.

When you isolate off human sexuality, it really is as basic, simple, carnal and primeval, whether done by human beings or tigers. Matter of fact, when we’re in the heat of passion we often envision ourselves being some sort of animal groveling for greater domination and pleasure.

Once I heard a man say that the difference between humans having sex and creatures of the Serengeti is that Homo Sapiens normally require a good meal, a stiff drink and lovey-dovey Motown tunes to make the whole process seem plausible.

(Of course, Papa Lion probably does bring home an antelope before they get down to business.)

We are such a fussy species. We want to believe that our genitalia, which often smells like dead bats in a cave, is somehow holy and sacred in the sight of God and must be given great consequence.

And then, all of a sudden–maybe two drinks in?–she touches his penis and he fumbles to find her clitoris, and they’re off to the races.

Yes.

Like two horses in a pasture.

Giggle we must at our foolishness, and certainly should continue to insist that we are having “coitus” instead of “bumping uglies.”

 

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Cinch

Cinch: (n) an extremely easy task

What are the factors?

I’m talking about the issues that go into making something work or drizzle away in failure.

I wish I could say it was all based upon the value of a good idea or merely the implementation of it.

Not so.

I can think of five things right off the bat that have to be crawled over to get to the finish line.

First, if you want something to be a cinch, it has to work out on paper. If it doesn’t, then you’re hoping for grace (if you’re spiritual) or a mutation (if you’re scientific.)

A bad start.

The second thing is resource. In other words, simply knowing what to get doesn’t get it. Can you locate what you need and once located, can you acquire it?

Third, luck. Many people do not believe in it, but there is a chaotic aspect to nature that cannot be denied. After all, the same thing we try today often doesn’t work tomorrow for no explicable reason.

How about nerves? Oh, yes–the football team was ready for the game, and then became unnerved. What causes it? When do we look at the challenge and visualize the victory, and when are our eyes affixed nervously on the adversary?

Of course, there is the fifth and final hurdle. It’s called performance.

Everyone reading this has had an occasion in their lives when everything was perfect except for one thing–and that single unit blew everything apart.

The reason most people spend their lives in lamentation is that they are burdened with the need–shall we say, expectation?–for something to be a cinch.

This writer will tell you, the only thing he has found to be a cinch–a guarantee–is that there will always be a surprise waiting for those who dare to brag about being prepared.

 

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Anchorman

dictionary with letter A

Anchorman: (n) the man who presents and coordinates a live television or radio news program

Can there be anything more awkward than the word “anchorperson?”

There are so many entrenched ideas in our society that when you try to edit them with more appropriate language, you end up looking like a buffoon.

But there are also so many talking heads on television of both genders, that we sometimes forget the voices and demeanors that are required to deliver the news of our day with the correct level of gravitas.

I think there are three preferred approaches. (Of course, I admit that this may be generational, and younger viewers may wish for a bit more variety. But I think sometimes what you get with variety is a lack of definition.)

What happens in our world is serious enough that we need the report imparted to us in such a way that we can be impacted without being destroyed, and educated without being influenced. (Once again, my opinion.)

So the three approaches I think work in this position–whether it be male or female–are:

1. Flat and monotone.

There are very few things in life that work with this blending, but I remember watching Huntley and Brinkley as a kid, and being totally convinced that neither one of them were capable of a frown or a smile, but that they had their features cemented in place prior to the broadcast, to ensure they would not communicate any emotion whatsoever during their assignment.

2. Fatherly.

Certainly Walter Cronkite comes to mind. Watching him was kind of like having your dad explain the facts of life to you, using a combination of scientific terms with generally accepted colloquialisms, while all the time patting you on the shoulder to comfort you over some of the more shocking details.

3. Bemused and sardonic.

I always find Brian Williams or Diane Sawyer to be this way. With the squint of an eyebrow, you feel that they are a bit confused about what’s going on with the planet, but the little smile at the corner of their lips tells you not to take things too seriously.

On the other hand, the new batch of anchor people, who sport anger, frustration, sarcasm, a political leaning or just disdain for anyone who disagrees with them, leaves me cold.

Yes, I think an anchor man, who often is a woman, needs to give us a chance to absorb what’s happening, assimilate it through our minds, and arrive at some form of conclusion … that resembles our own thinking.

 

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Agriculture

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter AAgriculture: (n) the science or practice of farming, including cultivation of soil for growing of crops and rearing animals to provide food, wool and other products.

“The good old days.”

I am not a proponent of such foolishness. I realize that the good old days were the bad new ways for the former good old days.

Old people pine for the past because that’s when they felt young and virile. It has no conscience for the morality, prejudice or lack of scientific development that may have existed.

But I will say aloud that we have lost something in our culture by moving from an agrarian society (agriculture) to one of manufacturing and now, basically confined to service.

Matter of fact, last year when I was sending little gifts to my grandson, I included, with one of my five dollar bills, a request that he take his daddy out to a store and buy tomato seeds, go into their back yard and plant the little miracles in the ground and see what happens.

Of all the tasks I gave him to accomplish with a donation attached, this one probably was the most memorable.

First of all, he was astonished at how quickly the tomatoes grew. But then he was shocked by how all these little bugs came along and decided they wanted to eat up his tomatoes before he got the chance to pick ’em.

This young man, who is growing up in an urban area, was suddenly treated to the wonders of rural life–and also to a life lesson of planting, nurturing, growing, protecting and harvesting.

I think we have forgotten where things come from. Because of this, we are demanding instead of being more cautious about our requests because we have good comprehension about the amount of work it takes to acquire blessing.

When I was a kid my father grew strawberries. I thought it was a great idea because I loved to eat strawberries. What I failed to understand was the season that the magical fruit units required for growing–and then, because the vines are so close to the ground, the need to get down on your hands and knees to pick them.

I not only gained a greater appreciation for the strawberry itself, but was also more reverent in my consumption, knowing that every pint I ate would take another twenty minutes of my life to regain.

In some form, if we’re going to continue to be a society that has relegated farming to a chosen few, we will need to teach our children the earth process that goes into making something beautiful … from the seed of an idea.