Went to another reunion, and it wasn’t even mine.
Not entirely certain how I keep ending up at other people’s reunions, but never making it to my own.
It can’t be because I don’t want to go, I mean, obviously I enjoy these types of odd soiree.
Maybe its that sense of not officially being eligible to be there.
Breaking even a basic rule can be fun.
Most people don’t, but this falls right in line with my Catholic School upbringing.
Catholic school is a bizarre form of psycho/sexual abuse that few people come away from unscathed.
I don’t mean being touched by a priest, that is a separate kind of crime, I am talking about the legal form of mental abuse. (Which I still don’t get. I mean, at age 9, I was HOT. You could have bounced a quarter off my ass. Nobody laid a finger on me.)
Sex ed, when taught by angry sexually frustrated nuns to angry sexually frustrated young boys, becomes a harrowing tale of the blind leading the blind.
The girls, in crisp white blouses, plaid skirts and patent leather shoes, were herded into one room, and a mangy group of sloppy boys was herded into the other.
The girls, I found out later, had a four hour lecture about how evil and vile boys were.
The boys, had a different afternoon.
Watching 4 hours of the most grisly VD movies ever made has a peculiar effect on the adolescent mind.
It had the same effect as the Reefer Madness films had from the 60’s.
We didn’t believe a word of them.
First off, masturbation did not cause blindness or hairy palms.
If it did, we would all be tapping white canes and look a lot like werewolves in school uniforms.
And I would be the Alpha Wolf.
Some of us discovered things earlier than others.
The funniest part was, non of us understood what they were talking about.
Self abuse? Who would abuse themselves, that sounds nasty.
Play with myself? Sure, who doesn’t?
There was 2 kids I went to school with that went to the bathroom a few times before recess, spent all of recess there, 1 time before lunch, all of lunch, and a few times before school got out.
In retrospect, it is possible that they were trying to rip it out by the root.
Like I always say, its important to have a hobby.
One kid stopped bringing lunch as eating cut down on his private time.
And non of us went blind. (Ironically, I am wearing glasses right now.
On a side note, I may be one of the hairier men you will meet this side of Little Armenia in Southern California.
Maybe something to that.
For the most part, we all survived the Catholic school version of Sex Ed.
But, much like returning soldiers who have been thru hell, we all bear the mental scars of it all.
The mildest side effects are those of us with the standard sexual kinks. Oral fixations, promiscuity, that sort of thing.
The worst are those that are the serious deviants. Gimp suits, scat fetishes, barnyard animals, and it gets worse.
And the world keeps turning.
And the nuns keep talking.
And the circle of life continues unimpeded.