Review: Why Men Fall Out of Love: What Every Woman Needs to Understand

Why Men Fall Out of Love: What Every Woman Needs to Understand by Michael French

My rating: 4 of 5 stars



Mr. French seems to have a lot of rather misogynistic notions about women - but then it happens that a lot of men seem to as well. He attributes a lot of power and control to us that I'm not sure is actually valid - but then, I'm a woman and by definition I'm not going to understand why so often men do attribute so much power to us when we feel helpless and manipulated by just the type of actions and circumstances the men in this book describe. Still, I'm finding this book helpful because it gives a purely male view toward what causes relationships to fail, and that is what I was looking for in order to better understand my own circumstances. I do not have to agree with all of what he says in order to gain insight and value from it. French does an excellent job of presenting a list of very well-illustrated reasons why men may have difficulty in relationships, and this information will help me to be more effective in my dealings with people of the opposite sex, as well as have empathy toward them and perhaps not be so likely to feel hurt by them. Understanding, respect, and open dialogue about the inner landscape that leads us to act and feel the way we do about others is the canvas on which he makes a case for more effective and ultimately satisfying relationships between men and women. After all, it's the inability of the sexes to communicate effectively that is at the root of most of our failures, and this is a point he makes rather well.



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Creative Minds

Hai guise.

I'm posting here - for a change - because what I have to say fits more in line with what I'd originally set up this blog in order to do: comment on the state of the world at large, and maybe social, geographical, economic and environmental things specifically.

I was asked this morning by my boss to read an article by Richard Florida (The Rise of the Creative Class), published in The Atlantic, entitled, "How the Crash will Reshape America." Our little town of Sumter, SC is participating in Earth Day's "Spotlight Conversations," which is kind of a big deal.

As I read, I found my lips curling as I imagined Jim Kunstler's reaction to the article. Seriously, I wanna toss those two in a room and just listen to what happens. It could be kind of explosively awesome.

Even more awesome would be if Osha Davidson chimed in and gave his 45 cents worth.

hee.

NEW SPN TONITE. At some point I really still need to write that blog post about how the Impala is awesome and may actually save the Universe. No, really.

Also - I never blogged about election day in Horatio, South Carolina. I really am fail.

transitional dynamics

feeling the worth this morning of reporting on things that get into the meat of necessary change. so often what is out there is so much fluff, which is why we luddites and deep thinkers must just pass over it or puke. but some people are apparently getting it, even though the vast majority are still either caught up in the sparkly bits, or hiding their collective Gucci-clad heads in the sand.

it will affect us all some day. it affects us now, you know. why do you think we rush so hard to get to the computer & log on to check everything in the morning? is it because we half-way believe it might not be there, maybe sooner than later?

i am not here to convince anyone to do anything other than think. and to do that, you'll have to --ahem --educate yourself. not going to recommend any books, papers, or websites. you have access to blackle and you are a smart person.

zut, alors.... have to slap a certain website on the wrist this morning, howsomever. since when is it more "green" to buy French than Carolina or Virginia wines if you live east of the Mississippi? i ask you. the subject didn't even come up.... the choice as far as they are concerned is, napa or europe. and lo, papa, stop whirling in your proverbial urn. you know it's positively true that if you were alive today you'd be sipping virginia merlot dripped from right up the road at chateau marmoset morissette. or jefferson's meritage, say 2001. that is some yummy stuff. goes with the venison hubby bow-shot last weekend quite well.

meant to include linda's recipe for carolina venison chili and my apple tart recipe this morning. that will have to wait, out of time.

rest easy, papa. and you greenies? wake up and smell the local vintage, for chrissakes.

non timebo mala

Coming of Age in the Family Renaissance:
An Emerging Cultural Reality

“Who of us could endure a world… without the divine folly of honor, without the senseless passion for knowledge outreaching the flaming bounds of the possible, without ideals the essence of which is that they can never be achieved?” –Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

“I want to speak about bodies changed into new forms. You gods, since you are the ones who alter them and all other things, inspire my attempt, and spin out a continuous thread of words from the world’s first origins to my own time…” –Ovid, Metamorphoses


Blink quickly and they will pass you by. It's time I came into being with my own connections, and lo and behold! I like it. Alot.

Some parents --it seems to me an inordinate number of them, actually --look forward with trepidation to the years when their children become teenagers. Having already raised one, maybe I'm a bit relaxed on the subject. Or maybe it's just obvious that my children (15, 13, 11) are only continuing to unfold into the caring, creative, all-out wonderful creatures they always were, only more so. Every day brings a new step toward enlightenment, as much for me as for them.


evolution
i find bright young minds
unspoiled and open
beyond limits imposed
by successive
generational layers,
accepting as a matter of course
all the differences they find
in humanity.
wasting no time on particulars
never turning it over and over
and over in their minds ad nauseum
pointing out and categorizing
nuances
better appreciated
celebrated
loved.
more established minds
often described as wordly wise
often see nothing in differences,
or refuse to accept them when they do,
may even belittle them
say they don't matter
and are more likely to immediately find
a pigeonhole or tightly lidded box into which they resolutely attempt to make one fit otherwise they cannot see what is even there much less the wisdom.
the world evolves
or we die.
that, in truth,
is something
of which acceptance
has no part.

--susannah eanes

my dad --eternally youthful and questioning --used to say:
if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand the answer.
in some ways, i'm finding out how wise he was. i am hearing the echoes of his longing, his epistles, his passion, in the words i read written and hear said by my children. who are the main youth in my life.
someone mentioned recently, how the generation who came of age in the 1960s, was supposedly more "with it" than the youth of today. and then went on to make the predictable comparisons with his generation and angst-filled young moderns.

i soooo beg to differ. it is well known, and one of the observations of our times, that the 1960s generation sold out to wall street, walmart, and mundane life a long time ago.
in other words, turned their back on your youth, and walked away.
and, imho, this person hit the nail on the head when he wrote, "I see the music some of these folks (including the 40ish crowd) are listening to, and it might as well be another planet as far as I can tell.. with some exceptions. "

he might as well have said, "I can't hear the music..."

neither could my dad. and it's sad, really, because it just means neither of them cares enough about other people to really give a damn, and LISTEN. as if, it's not worth anything that they might come up with in their own minds: to hell with youth. the hubris is real, and all-pervasive.
that, my friend, is obvious. when my older daughter was listening to Nine Inch Nails almost a decade ago and watching movies like The Crow and Donnie Darko, I couldn't hear the music either. I just "saw" men being tortured and violence and darkness.
But when I listen to my very oldest daughter, as well as her sister and the younger 3, because I now suspend judgment and keep holding them up as examples of light, unspoiled, fresh from God --because that is what they are --I found it was fear of the unknown, and fear of going back, of losing myself, that stopped me from hearing the message of all of the above, and so very much more.
i rediscovered pieces of myself i had rejected when i was as young as 9, and had left behind completely by age 14. and the rest of my youth was totally destroyed by age 19. so now i feel like, hell yeah, i've gone back and embraced that young, questioning, innocent young girl. 'cause she was a good person who deserved to live. she had enough violence in her life to cause her to run away from herself, avoid any mention of violence or follow true passion in her life.
but... thanks to my youthful companions, and those like them --who are all around, thank god, i am finding that exploring humanity in all its forms instead of running away from what scares me or alarms me or at one time would have been put away in the "inappropriate" box has allowed me to climb up on top of it and crow.
Now I hear the music. And I put alot of it on my MySpace page.
J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan in the original form said basically the same thing.

It's a universal idea. Not dead, not even resurrected. Just enduring.

plain as plain

and what, you may well ask, is plain? well, for starters, me. i am plain. i live plainly. plain keeps life "doable," so to speak. anymore when life starts to clutter up it lets me know that i'm not living plainly enough. so i look about for something to divest.

that latest divestiture is worry. worry about whether or not i'm doing the right thing, mainly. all i know is i really am doing the best that i can.

also, i'm concentrating on the planning work, and my writing. besides my children and my husband (and two houses!) that is enough. i'm not cut out to do manual labor for others, my family keeps me busy enough. recently we re-incorporated adair fox as a non-profit. it better fits our mission, and makes us able to work more closely with others aligned with the same tasks: that of bettering the world, instead of our own pocketbooks. in all honesty, i have never felt so free to do what i see that needs to be done in the world.

thank god, thank god.

i just like to be able to sleep at night, and my work must continue to enable me to do so. i quit the government sphere because my body told me "no more stress." i am honored to be seeing my work being fulfilled at last with love, honor, and truth. this is all that matters. so. onward and upward. when my children no longer need me there will still be this work. it continues to be the most important contribution i make aside from them. i am glad to be able to say it is all finally coming together, amen, and amen.

a 21 year reunion....

Go to the Image Gallery



has it been 21 years... really? since i rushed home after the store closed at hancocks fabrics in tampa to see the show that was to transform everything from network tv to crime dramas as we knew them?

well don... you haven't aged a bit. tonite was the airing of the first episode of miami vice. you looked like such a ***baby***!!! so young, so fresh, so immoral!!
when i remember my innocence of the years when miami vice first hit the screen --it makes my eyes tear up a bit. i remember how gratified i was that my favorite actor from "the rebel" had actually been rewarded with the type of fame due his talent. unbelievable, yet so gratified.

it wasn't the armani suits, the deep tans, or the testarossa. i promise you. it was the green eyes.... and the doubt, the betrayals, the agony that kept us tuning in week after week. it was watching you deal with things that made our miserable lives seem human again. it was seeing you come out of it and go on... again, and again. it was like nothing we'd seen before... how lovely to see you'd aged well. my 14-year old son could not believe this was the world before cell phones, before the internet... and it looked cool, and splendid. and i wanted it back, i did.

last night i watched "hot spot," "long hot summer," AND "word of honor," just to refresh my memory. you are just as fascinating as you always were. i don't care what anyone else says.... we'll see the new re-make as it appears to be a must-see, but nothing can change the fact that you were always my muse, my hero, and the one that caused me to take up my pen to write in the first place. it's high time i finished the novel i started way back then, don't you think?

molasses in winter

over the past year i have been getting a lesson in just how slowly the wheels of the legal system roll. most of us have absolutely no concept whatsoever of how excruciatingly sluggish things can be, how a mislaid file or the failure on the part of some courthouse employee to update a particular judge's calendar results in months of delay in getting justice.

i wish someone had told me it would take this long, because i wasted over 3 years in attempting to reason with the person in question before even consulting with several attorneys, all of whom were glad to take the case & encouraged me to take the person back to court. i finally agreed to do so in november of 2004 and hired an attorney. we have been through several mediated sessions and have been given no less than 6 court dates, all of which have been 'postponed' for one reason or another (see above). i am hopeful of getting a date for late march. i have no assurance this will happen, but am assured that 'this will be resolved and you will see justice done. yours is a special case and we just have to roll with it and be patient. these changes do not occur overnight.'

at this point i am just trying to keep my sanity. this blog started out as an attempt to do just that, to give me something else to do to distract me from the very problem of which i speak. at first it was a good distraction, but eventually i decided it wasn't a good idea to post my thoughts about what is happening in the world of land use online. the (unrelated) nature of my court case prevents me from being specific, but i need all the prayers and assistance i can get right now. i have little energy to do anything other than pray, and have for weeks. long ago i gave up trying to pursue a career because of the distractions and energy involved in pursuing the matter. but i must press on, i must continue to find the energy every day because there is absolutely nothing more important that the three little souls whose well-being depends upon it.

backyard view

"Summer is over, autumn beckons. How wonderful to have that forced upon me when waking. How wealthy am I, not to be insulated from my world, to be aware of the activity of my neighbors who are different from me." --blog post from Sept. 06, 2005

Since that post I have wanted to share a photo of the view from my backyard. Here it is, and of course it does not do justice to the reality. It was taken during this past weeks' fine weather, when the sky told why in glorious terms it is called, "carolina blue," and the air laid soft upon my skin as I hung the morning's laundry. The light is always particularly golden, as it is so many places in the less populated areas of the south. The place is quite lively all on its own, it has no need of man's intervention to make it a "happening place." This morning, for instance, the particolored leaves are a veritable orchestra of sound as they continue to shower the earth with tickets to the show in gold, copper, and russet. The light glitters pure and shining upon them, ensuring none is slighted, each is picked out with its own special limelight, silhouetted against the shadows of the dark treetrunks. The stubble field, sown in rye, is as green as the course at Augusta, and the cloudless sky is a deep periwinkle blue.

None of which would translate to film, I imagine. I have neither the skill nor the patience of our dear friend Fred. And I am not sure even he could capture the sense of all the movement, which is what makes it so alive. So you will have to be content with words, or come for a visit.

first post

good morning.... and a fine one it is. in the small town office where i work it is far too fine a morning to be inside, but that is where the work is. i try to be philosophical about it, people have always complained about work, and i am no exception. however, i believe in work, i believe in the fulfillment gleaned from tasks performed well, in being productive, but not just for the sake of being busy. it is a simple joy to involve ones' hands, heart, and mind in worthwhile tasks, both mental and physical.

i much prefer sewing to government service. however, i have yet to figure out a way to feed my family with needle and thread. so from time to time i may ruminate on the loss of physical work in our society. i think that is part of our problem...

on to be happy with the day. if i don't make something of it, who will?