My Specificity is a Myth
Here is the thing, I put forth this idea that the things that move me are really specific. That I have a highly tuned sense of what I appreciate, what titilates me, what inspires me. All that. Some might sort of portray this as a high versus low thing, hot versus cold, or something. I had this sort of post thought up before and it was going to be about the male gaze and the patriarchy and a funny internal monologue, but I chickened out. But, something happened today, thought it would be fun to write about it, and hopefully not get it all wrong.
Today my ex sent me a photo of her in an outfit that she is thinking about wearing to a gala in her town because the college is doing something. Now, the truth is I should probably not have a friendship with her, but that is another post or discussion over internet coffee, but I got the photo. She sent me a few text messages, and I imagine she thought it would be a few texts, and on we go. But I HAD to call her. I just had to. And she knew I would I think. I just raved about how flattering the outfit was on her. I mean I raved. I waxed poetic. I gave my barbaric yawp. But, here is the thing, my compliment was super unique, I think. The outfit, in my eyes, high lighted the length of her torso from her armpit to her mid hip. And if you want to know, that is my jam. The long torso of someone like Dara Torres. Or that youtube person LeanBeefPatty.
And the thing is, its not just females. You look at young Tim Roth, or Sean Penn, or so many others, that length of torso is just my jam. I like long torsos on humans. I find it titilating, or exciting, or cool, or something. It is just my thing.
So, I went on and on with my ex about how good shoe looked. How the dress did this or that. And you might normally think that the specific thing about the line of the torso was a strange sexual thing. It might be. But, if you had heard us talking you would have heard us expand out to other stuff. It was in that other stuff that I realized that my specificity is just nonsense. I can get jazzed up about anything.
Some of you in real life, have been caught on the phone talking about the Bezel insert on a specific watch. One or two of you have been caught on a phone call where I explained Skyline Chili. Or the difference between a wide mouth water bottle, and a narrower drinking thing. Some of my music friends have had to endure an endless discussion about how the movement of the right elbow in guitarists is the thing man. How they handle that elbow, that is going to tell me. The difference between SRV and Tom Morello.
I think that there are things that are sexually enticing for some. Denim Skirts over the knees, tall socks or something. Some males just have 'things'. Here is the thing, I do not have a 'thing'. Everything can totally spin me out in all the best ways. I am rarely sexually titilated I think. But, I am moved deeply by lots of things. But not seuxally. For example, I know for certainty that Hayley Van Lith is really pretty. I mean, that is just true. But, you know what is also amazing, the hight that she dribbles at when she did her cross over in the Olympics. And the fact that she did not make the regular hoops team, but played 3x3 just to be an Olympian. I mean her hesitation step that she used at LSU, it was breathtaking.
I can literally talk to you for the rest of this evening about my Columbia hoodie. Or the Kia Soul. Or the Chevy Sonic. I can talk all week about the joy of using a Sony Minidisk player when I was a journalist. God forbid you bring up the solid state Marantz PMD 600 field recorder, and I might literally talk you to death.
Part of me wants to think that my exes long torso in that dress just is my thing. That my ex in a backwards fitted baseball cap, a sports bra, and some Umbro soccer shorts sitting on Bradford Beach after SummerFest is the thing. But, here is the thing, I could literally write about book of amazing things about my three significant loves, and the outfits they wore, and the way we rode in cars, and all the rest. I could tell you endless stories about me and Jill going to school every morning listen to the Repo Man soundtrack.
I am 53, and I have little or no idea what 'does it' for me. Because I sort of think everything 'does it' for me in one way or another. So, while I think it is some specific thing like her torso, or a moleskine filled with unpublished poetry, or a battered dive watch...the truth is its everything. Every torso. Every watch.
The reason substack is the greatest FOR ME, is because you are all telling me stories. I do not need to know what your talking about, or really even understand. But honestly, I am so stoked by all of it. Literally all of it blows my mind, and I get to have the best days.
So, I am not specific at all. I am a broad spectrum chaser of inspiration. And I find it every where. I mean it, its everywhere.
Dude I'm stoked on your stoke.