For several years a decade or so ago, Kevin and I would meet weekly at the Elephant Bar on Sunrise Boulevard. We’d solve the world’s problems, one 2-legged cocktail at a time. I remember Kevin would often tell me: <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Jake, your problem is you need a connection, and connections are for total suckers. You only make things worse by needing a connection.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He’s right, you know. That is my problem. Was then. Is now. Call it guilt. Call it shame. Call it a pattern. But I gotta get my neurotic brain into alignment for such things. The calmer the brain, the better the ride.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I know, Kevin. I know. But you can’t hit those crazy peaks without it. You’re only gonna be able to go so far. Can’t open all the way without it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Reminds me of this group dinner one time at the Lazy Dog in Tustin. An open-minded group, we were discussing what makes for the best sex: An anonymous lizard brain session, or an intimate one with a connection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Definitely an anonymous one-night stand, where you pick up some guy. Just let your inhibitions go, and relentlessly fuck the shit out of them.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was the position of my ex-girlfriend from high school, now casual lovers from time to time. I don’t recall what we were that night, but given the nature of the conversation, I would say we were teasing our dates.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Not me. You’re fucking crazy. Nothing beats intimacy. That warm glow. The feeling that anything is possible. Makes my head wanna explode.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n