Published: February 20, 2009 12:29 am      

WHITE-WALKER: Happy days, happier nights

Every time I’ve alluded to sex in my articles, it’s always the men, seldom the women, who come up to me and say, “Good job, girl, I really got a kick out of your column last week, even enjoyed a few chuckles.”

“Thank you,” I demurely smile, like no man has ever used that three-letter word in front of me before. “I don’t want to imply that sex is meant to be funny,” I continue.

Actually I want to pop the really big question to them like, “ But gentlemen, don’t you chuckle at my column every week?” But of course, I’m almost afraid of their answers because you can’t hit a home run every time, darn it.

And so it is the same with sex. So many things have to go right so that everything doesn’t go wrong. Hey, I speak not with real authority, mind you, because don’t forget, men are supposed to be the experts in that department. Talk about pressure — no wonder so many struggle, or so the TV commercials are always reminding us. Just tell me I have to perform every week for the newspaper and suddenly my mind goes all blank, blank like the writing paper before me. But tell me that my whole writing career doesn’t hinge on one flop or two, and suddenly my whole being changes and I become all confident and relaxed, like I really know what I’m doing.

And so it is with sex, but the relaxing part doesn’t only come at night as much as it should during the day. Yep, you read that right; the sex therapists insist that it’s what happens during the day with couples that will indicate what or won’t happen at night. I know, I know, I couldn’t believe it either, so that makes intimacy a 24-hour job. And that means stress and responsibility for both sexes.

“There’s always a hitch to everything,” balk the men who must keep reminding themselves that if they expect a little evening sweetness, they can’t be dishing out dirt during the day. And ladies, remember, that goes for us, too. We can’t be carping at our husbands all the time and then expect bliss in the boudoir.

“I expect nothing,” spoke up a long time married matron, “and that’s exactly what I’m getting, but you know something? It doesn’t bother me, but it bothers me that it doesn’t bother me.”

Had she not had a longing look in her eyes like, ‘Oh, I remember when,’ I might have believed her. “I’ve always heard that sex is the glue that holds a marriage together, and that if a marriage goes on the rocks, the rocks are usually in the mattress,” she sighed. Yeah, she doesn’t care, all right.

Why did she have to put those ideas in my head? Who the heck did she think she was, Dr. Ruth? No, Dr. Phil because she kept going on and on. “Dr. Phil said that when things are going right in the bedroom, it’s only 10 percent of the relationship, but when things go awry, it becomes 90 percent of the relationship.”

I’d sure hate to hear her spiel if she was interested in sex.

“Eh, what good is sex, anyway?” another satisfied spouse heard from.

“I guess no good, you’re here, aren’t you?” I half teasingly replied.

Poor darling, she never even picked up on my insinuation, but some things are best left unrepeated. And some things like sex should be elevated to a higher level. If rocks are in anybody’s mattress it’s because the mystique of sex has been shattered. Some couples sleep in a bed the size of Rhode Island, and they’re all snuggled and secure. Others sleep in something the size of Alaska; guess that tells you how much traveling they do together during the day.

Karen White-Walker is a Wilson resident.