As the old saying goes, can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em. Or anyway, I can’t. So how did I keep from hating men? Well, the Universe sent some pretty remarkable men my way. None of them were husband material, most of them weren’t even boyfriend material, but they all had something I needed just when I needed it.
Coyote Man: Coyote is a trickester in Native American legend, and so was Coyote Man. I knew him long before the divorce, and I liked him. He was very well read and I loved talking books, music and art with him. He had the ability to walk into a dementia unit where everybody was climbing the walls, and calm the whole place down in five minutes. He had an outrageous sense of humor, was an excellent listener, and in talking to him about his history of incest as a child, I realized that I was sexually abused in my marriage. He was a soulmate to me, but as Laurie Cabot says in “The Power of the Witch”, soulmates are there to teach you something, and are usually not someone you stay with for long. We were friends through my divorce, his divorce and a lot of other crap. But eventually, it was time to let him go, and I did.
Sensei: Sensei taught me tai chi and kung fu. And if you ever want to see something funny, I have some video of me doing tai chi. He also taught me to kick attackers in the groin. Besides that, he took me under his wing right after Barney left, and we hung out together, going to eat Thai food after class, watching movies, etc. He also did acupuncture for me that released a lot of crap. I remember walking into the dojo one day during class after I had had a god-awful day at work and all around, sitting on the stairs, and having him come over and put his arms around me. He gave me $20 when he found out Barney had left because he was afraid that I wouldn’t have any money until payday, even though Barney said he’d bring me money for the bills. He was right, and I thank him. He also scared the crap out of me whenever I went anywhere in a car with him, not because he was a bad driver, but because he took more risks than I would.
Tall One is still in my life. He introduced me to The Boyo. And I got a birthday card from him the other day. Yes, my birthday is in November, but that doesn’t mean much to him. Of course, it had a really outrageous pun in it. I met him on Valentine’s Day at a class on Paganism. I remember him standing out in the rain talking to me for half an hour after that class. He is a generous and caring person, but some people don’t look behind his goofy exterior. He has been known to give you not only the shirt off his back, but ask if you need his pants, too. We lived together, strictly platonically for a couple of years out of necessity. (I was broke, he had a room to rent out cheap.) He had a habit of doing things like walking out of his room and handing me a stamped envelope just about the time I decided I needed one. He was, and still is, spooky.
The Man with the Magic Wand: I met him at a Pagan festival after three years of involuntary celibacy. I guess the Universe decided I needed some time to meet men that didn’t want to screw me. But here he was, instant attraction. One of the great things about Pagan festivals is they usually have a Temple of Aphodite, well stocked with condoms, lube and other goodies. The Pagan community, one of the few havens for the gay community, learned the lessons of the AIDS epidemic early and often. And, oh my, did he ever have a magic wand. And other appendages. I used to go to several festivals a year back in those days, and he’d be at every one, and we’d go to temple. Then I met The Boyo, and that was the end of that.