Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Three Women (Or, ‘Cain’s Arrival’) 1980-1999
Interlude Vignette III
Tokyo Tower, Built 1957, model after the Eiffel Tower in Paris
The author went to its top, 1999
(Or, ‘Cain’s Arrival’) 1980-1999
I have always held women in high esteem, to be one of God’s most charming and pleasurable creatures, and I do not speak from any narrow mindedness, perhaps some gullibility in my younger day; I’ve been examining this for a long time, with little conclusion to nat. It may sound a little like a cheap throw at women in general, but in spite of anything I’m on their side, somewhat, —men can be barbaric, and rude and boastful and prideful but with men, women can figure them out after two shakes of the dice; women have too many sides and are too chaotic for a man to figure them out; perhaps one woman to another, and the devil and God can figure them out, and to be honest, women I do believe can even at times trick the devil, but man lacks this ability for some odd reason, my advice for him is to simply get out of dodge, forget revenge, or vengeance, or payback, it has a boomerang effect, when used on a woman, in other words, it doesn’t work, payback is hell.
How many times—I can’t count them—I’ve escaped from their obliterating clutches, wanting to call this Godly creature a menace, I held back, only in fear of God, since he created her for man. So all this jibber jabber brings to mind three women I’ve never talked about, or wrote about in any of my writings, thus, this is their debut. I don’t know why I haven’t it’s been rather a blind spot of mine. And I mean no harm in this small brief, or vignette.
As far as Donkeyland goes, it fall in place perhaps the least of my writings, but it does have its place.
On another note, before I get into the three women, my present wife, now for fifteen-years, has got to be a saint for enduring me, for I am all those things I previously mentioned men have and she over look them, I I’ve never got, she’s a woman! I keep waiting for the hot iron to hit the anvil.
This of course is, and still is, the trying periods in my life thus far, — long-term relationships with women that is. Of course, when I consider all the days of my life, admirable as some were, and I accept responsibility for making them otherwise at times, for demolishing these three relationships, but frankly, I never derived much pleasure from them mentally—when we add longevity into them, and so I cite them only to prove there were other women I was involved with, who held some importance to me. I will try to be as honest, frank, short and bold as I can, that is for a poet saying something, and for a novelist, saying much.
The ability and will to pardon, says Cicero of Julius Caesar that is the height of good fortune and a supreme virtue, I do hope these women, hold no ill-will, and should they read this and figure out who is who. And a word to the wise I’ll put it in a Haiku, right now and here:
Know well the cunning
Nature of the flower be—
For you taste its fruit!
Sharon W., 1980 to 1986; Jean T., 1986 to 1992; and Kikue, 1996 to 1999.
With all three I wore the fig-leaf suite. Somehow I was obliged to go with them for extended periods of time (combined, 19-years, take or give one or two). Had I allowed it to extend beyond those time periods I just mentioned, it would have introduced what? Death! Which is a pity, on some accounts, or mental anguish, or perhaps a breakdown, who’s to say.
With all three I liked the plunge, and coolness of their beseeching ways. Sometimes I think God made women only for scenery, like hippos and whale watching. When I broke up with them, I really had no justification, but I chanced the danger in not breaking up. If not more than that, I have not missed anything, yet Sharon was the good part of Adam’s rib, once I was going to rent out a room from Doug in the Neighborhood, Donkeyland for her, and had second thoughts, it would have been to daring, and careless of me. Jean, she nearly strangled me with her obsessiveness, and jealousy. Let me elaborate with Jean T., a moment, and try to put it in a philosophical poetic phrase, so you’ll get the whole picture at one glance:
Be not jealous that you think
Every bird of the air
Will take your lover away from you!
Such jealousy will make you burn
Lose yourself restraint!
Give way to twisted small tales
Into tall tales.
People are more readily to believe
Evil than good.
Need I say more? And Kikue N., from Tama City, Tokyo, Japan, at the last moment, was most uncomfortable. It was as if she had taken a viper pill, and here I was seven-thousand miles away in one of the largest cities in the world, feeling like I was being extorted mentally, to having to stay in Japan; her family hating me without knowing me. I was on her turf now, having met her in Turkey, several years before this trip to Japan, and to get to know her parents before marriage I stopped in Japan for a week, she had visited America, Minnesota, my home state several times we got along well, — but the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, as they say.
Don’t get me wrong, men I realize are different than women, we think different, and we are different, but in this case the difference was too big to overlook. The old saying, opposites attract one another, may be so, but it’s not a comfortable life having to always try to adjust, when you could have selected someone more compatible.
Sharon was fire, fine and noble, educated; she couldn’t save the sick buzzard—me! But she tried. And Jean, was often, too often the despondent lioness; I was advised by Denny one day, a friend, when in need, said, “All I’ve ever seen you two do is fight, and I’ve known you for two years.” But the sex was great, and that makes you overlook things, what a man needs is a little more than pleasure. Denny was really telling me, in essence, that I was too close to the forest to see whatever I needed to see, —and he could foresee—the serpent of the tree had bit her in the leg, and thus, I should avoid her, forevermore.
With all three—don’t get me wrong—I have had many a multicolored times.
But often, too often, it was like riding a horse all night long as fast as one can, hoping to clear the vicinity, only to find, the backyard is too big….
As I reread this, it sounds as if I have named, renamed, this story ‘Cain’s allergies…’ something or another, instead of ‘Three Woman,’ but this is an error in judgment, I simply come to the conclusion females have some of Cain’s blood, most of them anyhow. I don’t want to generalize, so I say ‘Most’ not all! They are akin to fish with big teeth, you put them in the water, they sink, and when you try to save them, to snatch them out, they bite you. Hence, I can never figure out or determine if it’s Monday or Tuesday with them, matter of fact, they are a paradox, inconsistent, a puzzle, some, not all moody, but trying to figure out which one, you end up in a spiral. And the perplexity of this, will never diminish. So what do you do? My advice is to watch the movie: “Fiddler on the Roof” where the Fiddler has a little room to hide in on top of his house, extended out and above the roof, and when his wife gets into one of those ecstatic, or frenzied moods, there he heads.
Revised and Reedited, 7-2015