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Hey, Keep It Clean!

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Hey sex fans,

It’s time for another Product Review Friday. And this week we review a great toy for all you ass fuck bottoms out there.

Before we get to the review, however, I have a few editorial comments. I hear from dozens of people every month with the same issue. They tell me they’d really like to experiment with anal sex, but they are concerned about the potential messiness.

Douching is the answer, of course. I’ve said over and over; keeping it clean where the sun don’t shine is a relatively easy thing to accomplish. Warm water is all you need. Never use soap internally. Some people add lemon juice or vinegar (1-2 Tbs. per quart) of the warm water. Others dissolve (2 Tbs.) of baking soda in a quart of warm water.

I always tell my correspondents to stay away from commercially produced douches; most contain harmful and irritating chemicals. And trust me, you don’t want that. Besides, all those over the counter douches are expensive. And all that packaging is definitely not eco-friendly. And we all want to be green perverts, don’t we?

Today’s product brings something new and affordable to personal anal hygiene market. And it comes from one of our favorite manufacturers, our good friends at Perfect Fit Brand.

You didn’t miss the earlier Perfect Fit Brand review, did you? The Fat Boy Cock Extender is probably the most popular review we’ve done this year. And you can find it and all our reviews archived on my review site, Dr Dick Sex Toy Reviews.

Now let’s check in with Dr Dick Review Crew member, Brad, for his review.

Ergo Speed Douche —— $21.93

Brad

Those who follow my reviews know that I’m a straight guy who really gets off on ass play. I make a point of saying I’m straight, because so many people assume if a guy is into his butt hole, he’s gotta be gay. Nonsense! The days of making that uninformed leap are over. More and more straight guys are discovering their prostate and living to tell the story.

I’m also a personal trainer and it just blows me away how much my clients, both women and men, confide in me about their sex life. When this first began to happen I was like; “Whoa, TMI, for chrissake!” But then I got used to it. I guess personal training is the new confessional.

Anyhow, the reason I bring this up is one of the things I hear most, from both women and men, is; “I want to try anal.” Every one of my clients is astonished to learn that I love being the bottom in ass play. Guys are like; “But dude, you’re straight.” And gals are all like; “Damn, I always pictured you as a top.” Whatever! So many preconceived ideas about sex and sex roles, what’s up with that?

The problem most people have with butt sex is the personal hygiene part. All the butt pirate wannabes imagine this is an unpleasant task mostly because they don’t know shit, pardon the pun, about keeping themselves clean down there.

That’s why I am so glad that I got the Ergo Speed Douche to review. I now have a great product to turn my clients on to when we have this discussion.

The Ergo Speed Douche is about as simple and straightforward a design as possible. It’s a bulb and a nozzle! But don’t let the simplicity fool you; a lot of thought went into creating this essential tool for us bottoms.

I confess I’ve blown through a half dozen other bulb-type douches in my time. So I can say with confidence that not all these puppies are created equal. First, most bulbs are too small. Their limited capacity means you have to load it more than once. Not good! The Ergo Speed Douche holds a generous 11 ounces and is made of medical grade PVC, so you get a LONG steady blast.

Another really annoying problem is all the other bulb-type douches I’ve tried push water IN when you squeeze, just like they ought to. But then they suck it back OUT when you let go of the bulb. This creates the dreaded backflow. You want to void the douche into the toilet or down the shower drain, not back into the bulb. Get it? The Ergo Speed Douche eliminates this problem with its unique one-way air valve on the bottom of the bulb. This prevents the backflow of water into the bulb.

Another common problem with lesser bulb-type douches is the nozzle-to-bulb connection. If that is flimsy or poorly designed it can pop off mid cleaning. Again, not good! No such problem with the Ergo Speed Douche though. This thing is built to last. The nozzle screws into the bulb nice and tight, as it ought to and it stays connected.

The Ergo Speed Douche has a bendable 6” nozzle. It is made of phthalate-free TPR (thermal Plastic Rubber). Being flexible is important, because it makes it more comfortable to use. But care has to be taken that you don’t bend the nozzle so much that it crimps. There is a bit of a learning curve with all anal hygiene products, so don’t get frustrated if, at first, you find this a bit awkward. Once you get the hang of it, it’ll be as easy as falling off a log.

Remember, it’s all about the flow. The Ergo Speed Douche nozzle tip has four holes that diffuse the stream giving you the most out of each squeeze. This douche does more than simply fill your hole with water; the four-way spray will actually gives you a rinse too.

It’s essential that you keep your Ergo Speed Douche clean. Remember where it’s been! Warm soapy water is fine for quick cleanups. But you’ll want to sanitize it from time to time too. This is easily done with a 10% bleach solution. Detach that nozzle from the bulb and immerse both parts. Be sure to flush the bleach solution from both parts before your next use. Easy peasy!
Full Review HERE!

ENJOY

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The Dog Days of Summer 2012 Q&A Show — Podcast #344 — 08/20/12

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Hey sex fans,

My, my, my! It’s been six whole weeks since our last Q&A show. That’s not good. Because, ya know what? I have a huge backlog of very interesting questions from the sexually worrisome. And this time around, all my correspondents are men. Why, that almost never happens. I trust you will find my responses will educate, enrich and maybe even entertain. With a little luck, I’ll even have just enough time to do a product review. Sound fun? I think so too.

Tyler is straight but has the urge to stuff his ass.
Paul has polio, but he still wants to jerk-off.
Robert and his partner are having big time relationship problems.
John need more sex than he’s getting at home.
Steven is pulling his pud a lot, now some of the sensations are gone..
Mike is having extreme muscle spasms after he cums.
Finally we review the Fat Boy Cock Sheath.

Today’s podcast is bought to you by: Dr Dick’s Sex Advice and Dr Dick’s Sex Toy Review.

BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!

Check out The Lick-A-Dee-Split Connection. That’s Dr Dick’s toll free podcast voicemail HOTLINE. Don’t worry people; no one will personally answer the phone. Your message goes directly to voicemail.

Got a question or a comment? Wanna rant or rave? Or maybe you’d just like to talk dirty for a minute or two. Why not get it off your chest! Give Dr Dick a call at (866) 422-5680.

DON’T BE SHY, LET IT FLY!

Look for my podcasts on iTunes. You’ll find me in the podcast section, obviously, or just search for Dr Dick Sex Advice. And don’t forget to subscribe. I wouldn’t want you to miss even one episode.

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Go ahead, make my day

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Hey sex fans!

It’s Product Review Friday and this week we review a great toy for the men folk. And in doing so we welcome a new manufacturer to our review effort, Perfect Fit Brand.

You’ll be hearing more about Perfect Fit Brand in coming weeks, because we have a bunch of their other products to review. But right now let’s check in with Dr Dick Review Crew members, Glenn & Hank, for the lowdown on the toy they have

Fat Boy Cock Sheath —— $41.56

Glenn & Hank
Glenn: “Damn! The fuckin’ Fat Boy Cock Sheath is about the hottest fuckin’ sex toy I’ve had the pleasure to use in just about fuckin’ ever.”
Hank: “As you can see, Glenn is being his usual articulate self. How many times can you use ‘fuckin’’ in one sentence?”
Glenn: “I’m simply being expressive in the best way I know how. So sue me, why don’t cha?”
Hank: “Don’t get me wrong; I’m totally with you on this. The Fat Boy Cock Sheath is as you say, fuckin’ amazing.”
Glenn: “Ok, so here’s the 411 on this product. The Fat Boy Cock Sheath is…well for lack of a better term, a sheath that fits snuggly around your boner. It is made of this revolutionary material called SilaSkin. Apparently it’s a proprietary blend of silicone and TPR (thermoplastic rubber). It is unbelievably stretchy and irresistibly soft. And it come in both black and clear.”
Hank: “We’ve tried other masturbation sleeves that are made of super squishy materials, like this, and we wound up tossing them in the trash after just a couple uses. While we love the softness and pliability, the trouble with most ‘skin-like’ materials is, they are also super porous and nearly impossible to clean. Of course you have to clean it after every use, but you also have to powder it to keep it from getting so tacky that you can’t use it again. It’s a fuckin’ hassle, I tell you.”
Glenn: “I admit, when Dr Dick offered us Fat Boy Cock Sheath to review, I just rolled my eyes. I was expecting the same song and dance as what Hank just described. I was actually going to demurely decline Dr Dick’s invitation until I open the plastic packaging. I did this because all the other ‘skin-like’ materials we’ve tried smelled horrible. It’s the disgusting off gas that is a byproduct of the manufacturing process. And ya know what? All the other skin-like materials are loaded with phthalates, which, if you’ve been paying attention to the reviews on this site is a definite no-no when it comes to sex toys. Phthalates are the cancer-producing chemicals that are used to make rubber and latex supper soft and pliable.”
Hank: “Yep, I’ll pass on the phthalates, if ya don’t mind. Anyhow, where Glenn was going with all of that is when you open the Fat Boy Cock Sheath packaging there is no discernible odor. There is no off-gas, because it is phthalate-free! Once we got wind of this, no pun intended, we couldn’t wait to get home and try this puppy out.”
Glenn: “Those of you who follow our reviews know that I am an insatiable bottom.”
Hank: “That’s an understatement, but please go on.”
Glenn: “Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic. What I was about to say is that I generously allowed Hank to use the Fat Boy Cock Sheath first. I simply stripped down to my jockstrap and climbed into our brand new sling.”
Hank: “Isn’t he generous? He allowed me first use of the Fat Boy Cock Sheath. Truth is he was gonna get the better part of this toy and he knew it. So ok, I have a big dick and I know how to use it. But slipping this sheath over my hog was fantastic. I dribbled some lube inside the sheath then squished it around. By the way, the inside of the sheath is ribbed and bubbled for my pleasure. We only used water-based lube to begin with; because we thought silicone-based lube would mar the silicone of the sheath. We learned later that we could have used whatever type of lube we wanted. Very cool!”
Glenn: “I watched with anticipation as Hank readied his cock. I gotta tell you the visuals were stunning. Oh, I should point out that there is a smaller hole in the base of the Fat Boy Cock Sheath through which you pull your balls. The material is real stretchy; so don’t worry about getting your boys through the hole.”
Hank: “Despite being hard as a rock from the get go, I started slipping and sliding the sheath over my dick. It felt fantastic! I swear I could have blown my load right then and there.”
Glenn: “But he didn’t. Because it was time to punish my asshole and I was all ready for him. I’m proud to say that I can take Hank’s thick 9-incher with relative ease. It’s taken years of practice, but I can do it. The Fat Boy Cock Sheath made his unit scary big and the task all that more daunting. But here’s the thing, the super soft and stretchy SilaSkin added to my pleasure, but didn’t chafe my hole like some of the bigger toys we use.”
Hank: “Speaking of pleasure, I was lovin’ both what was happening to my cock and what I could see what happening to Glenn’s hole. What a sight! My cock, encased in the Fat Boy Cock Sheath, slid in and out of Glenn’s lubed up hole with ease. I was sending him to paradise and I knew it. The squishy sound my dick made inside the sheath added to our piggy play.”
Glenn: “I knew Hank was close to bustin’ his nut so I held on for dear life. With one last thrust he was spent. But I was still ready to go.”
Hank: “A little quick thinking on my part brought Glenn to an explosive finish too. I simply slipped my softening dick from the Fat Boy Cock Sheath and replaced it with one of our beautiful glass dildos. Glenn loves the hardness of the glass, but it never seemed to fill him up. But now the sheath did just that.”
Glenn: “It was fantastic! I was yankin’ on my chub while Hank had a hold of my nuts and rammed the dildo home. I spewed so much spunk I thought it was time to notify the next of kin.”
Hank: “When the fuckfest was over, clean up was a snap. My nut was still in the tip of the Fat Boy Cock Sheath along with a mess of lube, but some warm water and mild soap took care of the whole thing. Cleaning it is easy because the SilaSkin material is nonporous and so stretchy you can actually turn the blasted thing inside out. And once thoroughly dry the sheath isn’t the least bit tacky. This product gets my highest rating.”
Full Review HERE!

ENJOY

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Love All: The Art Of Polyamory

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As polyamory enters the mainstream, could a relationship revolution be under way?

By Rowan Pelling

One bright spring day last year I was idly browsing Facebook when my friend Dr Kate Devlin (a lecturer in artificial intelligence at Goldsmiths) updated her status from “single” to “in an open relationship”. Since I’m 49 and live in uptight, windswept Cambridge, rather than a sex-positive community in San Diego, this was a social-media first for me. It seemed clear the polyamory movement in Britain had finally achieved critical mass. There had been plenty of portents. First, the fact that the term polyamory, coined in 1992, entered the Oxford English Dictionary in September 2006, defined as “having simultaneous close emotional relationships with two or more other individuals… the custom or practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the knowledge and consent of all partners concerned”. Meanwhile, female friends on Tinder kept being asked if they’d consider forming part of a love quadrangle. And I noticed people in my circle citing Dossie Easton and Janet Hardy’s The Ethical Slut: A Guide to Infinite Sexual Possibilities (the bible for consensual non-monogamists).

Then there were the celebrity polyamorists. Author Neil Gaiman and his musician wife Amanda Palmer have never made a secret of the fact that they both took lovers, with each other’s consent; although their set-up has reportedly become more conventional since they have had a child. Will Smith’s wife Jada Pinkett Smith once posted on Facebook, “Will and I both can do whatever we want, because we trust each other to do so. This does not mean we have an open relationship… this means we have a grown one.” Which sounds pretty much like your average polyamorist explaining why their ménage is an expansive, loving set of mutually agreeable arrangements, rather than a free-for-all. And Tilda Swinton became the poster girl for every mother who feels that, much as she loves the father of her children, she wouldn’t mind shifting him to another part of the house while she moves in her drop-dead sexy lover.

When news of Swinton’s unconventional domestic arrangements first broke, my husband said: “That’s the life you’d like, isn’t it?” I pointed out that John Byrne, the father of Swinton’s twins, has a croft he can escape to on his own, to read books and write: “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” It seemed an excellent quid pro quo – especially for couples who aren’t each other’s gatekeeper and don’t give a fig what curtain-twitching moralists think. Throughout our 24-year relationship, my husband has never attempted to curtail my movements, and confesses himself “infinitely puzzled by men who are physically possessive”. Indeed, I’ve only been able to pursue my line of work (delving into erotic literature and sexuality) because he’s totally unruffled if I say, “I’ve got to go to San Francisco to interview the leader of the Orgasmic Meditation movement.” In similar spirit, I don’t question my spouse’s deeply entrenched desire to do no socialising whatsoever, to eschew travel and to potter round the house pondering metaphysical dilemmas as well as the contents of our two boys’ school lunch boxes. We have lost four parents and a beloved step-parent between us, as well as our first pregnancy (a baby with a terrible chromosomal disorder), so we know what heartbreak means and that profound love entails a level of kindness and support that goes way beyond sex.

But then nobody is too surprised when editors of erotic magazines, aristos or bohemians lead unconventional lives. For me, the significant thing about my friend Kate Devlin’s post was that it marked the moment when I first witnessed a bunch of well-heeled professionals all nod and say, “Good for you!”, rather than falling silent or expressing surprise. I sent her a message offering congratulations and suggesting polyamory would make a great article for my magazine The Amorist, which explores passion and sexuality. She replied, “I’m already halfway through.” The finished piece caused a bit of a stir, and a version was reprinted in The Times. Kate explained that she had one lover who occupied more space in her life than the other, who she saw once a month (both men also had at least one other regular partner), but that it worked for all of them, and she concluded, “I am content though. Happy, definitely, in a way that I couldn’t be if I were with just one person. I am fascinated by people and delight in learning more about each one… I know polyamory is not for everyone. There are degrees of it that are not for me. I’m tentatively feeling my way blindly because the familiar social structures aren’t in place, but it’s OK. It’s OK. I remind myself that it’s OK. For every pang of insecurity, I have an equal and opposite panic about being trapped. Then my heart lifts as I remember: I’m not.”

For decades, the notion of a complex, open-sided set of mostly heterosexual relationships has been associated with the more baroque excesses of the 1970s – along with key parties, pampas grass, shag-pile carpets and the bearded man from The Joy of Sex. It’s no surprise that this is viewed as the decade of carefree sexual exploration. Lovers benefited from the advent of the contraceptive pill: the first time an entire generation of women had been freed from fear of pregnancy. It was also an age of relative innocence, before the Aids pandemic and doomy sexual-health ads terrified the populace back into serial monogamy. But it was also an age when the bearded man had the upper hand. The general consensus was that “free love” was imposed by randy men on unwilling women, and that it never really worked; someone was always left sobbing and abandoned in the corner. Joni Mitchell spoke for many when she said, “It’s a ruse for guys.”

The only problem with that point of view is that monogamy clearly doesn’t work either. One-on-one is clearly the best way to proceed when you’re in those electrifying early years of love: the space when you’re so narcotically in thrall to your beloved that everyone else seems faintly repugnant. And monogamy certainly works while your cultural inhibitions, religious sensibilities, or sense of loyalty and duty to shared family, friends or children outweigh all other considerations. But, eventually, so the statistics tell us, only the fortunate minority feel a deep, abiding, unconflicted contentment in one person’s arms over an entire lifetime. The other 70 or so per cent of humans in the Western world will be unfaithful at least once in their lifetime. Divorce rates now run at well over 40 per cent in Britain and America. The certainty of adultery, heartbreak and pain is the other great inconvenient truth of our times. Which is why New York-based relationship guru Esther Perel recently published The State of Affairs, which attempts to explore the myriad reasons for infidelity and to look at how couples can not only survive betrayal but learn from it and even become stronger. The prevalent myth Perel seeks to dispel is the notion that one person can be everything to another: soul mate, lover, best friend, fellow adventurer and co-parent. In her view, adultery is often about the desire to reinvent the self and become fresh and fascinating in another’s eyes, rather than an active wish to reject the best beloved.

So what does a pragmatic, ethical individual do if they don’t ever want to behave like a lying, cheating love rat to the person they adore? For increasing numbers of people admitting to an enduring libido, the logical answer is polyamory. Now if, like me, you’ve knocked about a bit, you’re going to find the concept far older and more familiar than something supposedly invented at the tail end of the 20th century. Many in the LGBT community laugh at polyamory being some form of novel arrangement. The gay writer and comedian Rosie Wilby, whose book Is Monogamy Dead? was published last year, told me, “The LGBT community has experimented with forms of non-monogamy for decades. If you’re already doing something that has been widely viewed as ‘deviant’, then trying out another deviance from the norm has never felt like too big a jump. So it’s hardly a new concept for us.”

Indeed not. Think of the sexually fluid Bloomsbury set, who Dorothy Parker famously described as having “lived in squares, painted in circles and loved in triangles”. Many Edwardians – generally intellectuals, radicals and the upper classes – thought a free and open pass on fidelity was a practical way to go about things. After all, this was an era where the king himself – Victoria’s playboy son, Edward VII – was known to have taken many mistresses, including actresses Sarah Bernhardt and Lillie Langtry. It was also an idyll, a long-skirted, Arts and Crafts summer of love, which followed the more fixed morality of the Victorian era and flourished before the terrible devastation of the First World War. Proponents of unusual erotic arrangements were everywhere, from Vita Sackville-West (lover of Virginia Woolf) and her husband Harold Nicolson to the children’s author Edith Nesbit, who shared a house with spouse Hubert Bland and his mistress Alice Hoatson. Nesbit even raised Hoatson’s two children by Bland. Sexual experimentation started at the top. Meanwhile, last winter’s arthouse cinema hit Professor Marston and the Wonder Women dramatised the story of psychologist William Moulton Marston, the creator of Wonder Woman, who lived with wife Elizabeth and mistress Olive Byrne.

Complete Article HERE!

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How Homophobia Has Robbed Men Of Touch

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The pathological fear of even platonic contact has created a generation of men plagued by loneliness and anxiety.

I wrote an article in which I asked people to consider the following: American men, in an attempt to avoid any possible hint of committing unwanted sexual touch, are foregoing gentle platonic touch in their lives.

I call it touch isolation.

Homophobic social stigmas, the long-standing challenges of rampant sexual harassment and abuse, and a society steeped in a generations-old puritanical mistrust of physical pleasure have created an isolating trap in which American men can go for days (or weeks) without touching another human being.

The implications of touch isolation for men’s health and happiness are huge.

Gentle platonic touch is central to the early development of infants. It continues to play an important role throughout men and women’s lives in terms of our development, health and emotional well being, right into old age. When I talk about gentle platonic touch, I’m not talking about a pat on the back, or a handshake, but instead contact that is sustained and meant to provide connection and comfort: Leaning on someone for a few minutes, holding hands, rubbing their back or sitting close together not out of necessity but out of choice.

Yet, culturally, gentle platonic touch is the one thing we suppress culturally in men and it starts when they are very young boys.

While babies and toddlers are held, cuddled, and encouraged to practice gentle touch during their first years of their lives, that contact often drops off for boys when they cease to be toddlers. Boys are encouraged to “shake it off” and “be tough” when they are hurt.

Along with the introduction of this “get tough” narrative, boys find that their options for gentle platonic touch simply fade away. Mothers and fathers often back off from holding or cuddling their young boys. Boys who seek physical holding as comfort when hurt are stigmatized as “cry babies.”

By the time they are approaching puberty, many boys have learned to touch only in aggressive ways through rough housing or team sports. And if they do seek gentle touch in their lives, it is expected to take place in the exclusive and highly sexualized context of dating. This puts massive amounts of pressure on young girls; young girls who are unlikely to be able to shoulder such a burden. Because of the lack of alternative outlets for touch, the touch depravation faced by young boys who are unable to find a girlfriend is overwhelming. And what about boys who are gay? In a nutshell, we leave children in their early teens to undo a lifetime of touch aversion and physical isolation. The emotional impact of coming of age in our touch-averse, homophobic culture is terribly damaging. It’s no wonder our young people face a epidemic of sexual abuse, unwanted pregnancy, rape, drug and alcohol abuse.

In America, in particular, if a young man attempts gentle platonic contact with another young man, he faces a very real risk of homophobic backlash either by that person or by those who witness the contact. This is, in part, because we frame all contact by men as being intentionally sexual until proven otherwise. Couple this with the homophobia that runs rampant in our culture, and you get a recipe for increased touch isolation that damages the lives of the vast majority of men.

And if you think men have always been hands-off with each other, have a look at an amazing collection of historic photos compiled by Brett and Kate McKay in their article Bosom Buddies: A Photo History of Male Affection. It’s a remarkable look at male camaraderie as expressed though physical touch in photos dating back to the earliest days of photography.

As the McKays note:

“At the turn of the 20th century… Thinking of men as either “homosexual” or “heterosexual” became common. And this new category of identity was at the same time pathologized—decried by psychiatrists as a mental illness, by ministers as a perversion, and by politicians as something to be legislated against.

“As this new conception of homosexuality as a stigmatized and onerous identifier took root in American culture, men began to be much more careful to not send messages to other men, and to women, that they were gay. And this is the reason why, it is theorized, men have become less comfortable with showing affection towards each other over the last century.”

Spend some time looking at these remarkable images. You’ll get a visceral sense of what has been lost to men.

These days, put 10 people in the room when two men touch a moment too long, and someone will make a mean joke, express distaste, or even pick a fight. And its just as likely to be a woman as to be a man who enforces the homophobic/touch averse stigma. The enforcement of touch prohibition between men can be as subtle as a raised eyebrow or as punitive as a fist fight and you never know where it will come from or how quickly it will escalate.

And yet, we know that touch between men or women is proven to be a source of comfort, connection and self-esteem. But while women are allowed much more public contact, men are not. Because how we allow men to perform masculinity is actually very restrictive. (Charlie Glickman writes quite eloquently about this in an article for The Good Men Project. Read it. It’s a real eye opener.)

Male touch isolation is one of many powerful reasons why I support marriage equality. The sooner being gay is completely normalized, the sooner homophobic prohibitions against touch will be taken off straight men. As much as gay men have faced the brunt of homophobic violence, straight men have been banished to a desert of physical isolation by these same homophobic fanatics who police lesbians and gays in our society. The result has been a generation of American men who do not hug each other, do not hold hands and can not sit close together without the homophobic litmus test kicking in.’

The lack of touch in men’s lives results in a higher likelihood of depression, alcoholism, mental and physical illness. Put simply, touch isolation is making men’s lives less healthy and more lonely.

When visiting my 87-year-old father for a few days, I made a point to touch him more. To make contact. To express my affection, not just by flying a thousand miles for a visit, but to touch the man once I got there. It may seem simple, but choosing to do so is not always a simple thing. It can raise a lifetime of internal voices, many of which speak of loss and missed opportunities. But I hugged him. I put my arm around him as we shared a cigar and cocktails. I touched him whenever I walked past his chair.

Each evening, we would watch a movie. As part of that nightly ritual, I would sit in the floor, take off his shoes and socks and rub his bare feet for while. It is something I will remember when he is gone. Something I did right. Something that said to him, I love you. Spoken on the same deep touch levels by which he connected with me when I was a toddler sitting next to him, his strong arm around me as I watched the late show 50 years ago.

This touch thing is so crucial: I kiss and hug my son constantly. He sits with me—and on me. I make a point of connecting with him physically whenever I greet him. The physical connection I have with him has been transformative in my life teaching me about my value as a human being and a father.

We need to empower men to touch. We need to fix our sexually repressed (and sexually obsessed) American culture and put an end to distorted and hateful parts of our culture that allow homophobic people to police all men everywhere down to the very tips of our fingertips.

It’s too late in my life for the impact of these stigmas to be fully undone, but I have great hope for my son. When we collectively normalize gay life and relationships, my son, whatever his sexual orientation turns out to be, will be free to express platonic affection for others, be they men or women, in any way he sees fit. The rabid homophobes who have preached hate in America for far too long will finally be silenced, and men will be free to reach out and touch each other without fear of being labeled as somehow less of a man.

It’s a dream for a better America I can already see coming true.

Complete Article HERE!

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