Romance for Real Women

Are you as bored as I am with the apparent national obsession with Christie Brinkley’s divorce from Peter Cook? Of course you are. Real women find the intrigue surrounding the Madonna/Guy Ritchie split much more entertaining. It, after all, features a major sports figure who may or may not be having an affair with the material girl, but who is certainly and probably not co-incidentally also getting a divorce. Add to that, a mystical Jewish sect and celebrities who still have star power and you have the recipe for at least some relief from our summer dog days.

The Brinkley/Cook debacle features a middle aged man having an affair with an eighteen year old. (And, frankly, could his face lifts and professional tan be any more obvious?) Haven’t we, as a nation, already gone through the angst of a middle aged man diddling a young intern? We have. And there are no spotted dresses here to titillate.

We also apparently need to know about Cook’s obsession with internet pornography. What’s new or interesting about any of this? The only thing we don’t know yet is whether he takes Viagra and I’m betting he does.

And, this may sound harsh, but with all due respect to Brinkley’s past accomplishments both as a model and as having raked up four marriages including one with singer Billy Joel, isn’t she a little washed up?

What tilts the balance for me is that Ritchie and Madonna are not hanging out all their dirty linen. In this case, Madonna is showing an unexpected degree of class. Or maybe just simple concern for her children.

Brinkley had the option of a closed trial and declined it. So, her kids who include a thirteen year old son and a ten year old daughter will have to deal with every salacious detail reported about their parents. So, there go their chances for any well adjusted childhood, if they had a chance to start with and the more I learn about her, the more I doubt it.

So, don’t play the “poor me” tune to me, Christie. I ain’t hearing a single note. My sympathy stops well before the court house door.

Tall, dark and handsome.  The classic romantic hero. Who can resist that fantasy? And why would you?

I first discovered today’s Hot Guy on Robin Schone’s forum when he was posted as the image of Michel des Anges (Michael of the Angels), the damaged hero of Schone’s historical erotic romance, THE LOVER.  Beiron Andersson was gorgeous at 27—back in the mid-90’s—and for some time I didn’t realize the photos were a decade+ old.  Here’s a PG pic but a Google search will produce a wide range of photos including some artistic nudes that will steam up your screen (nothing X, but he is European).

Recent pics and video have appeared online—dog love the internet– proving the guy still has it. Maybe it’s just me, but I think he’s just as hot at 40+. Beiron today…

It’s getting mighty warm in here.

Aloutte

Real women know that post-coital etiquette is an important element in romance. So, let’s discuss.

You’ve decided to do it. You do it. Now what? Take a little control, that’s what. Don’t leave the entire post- coital glow up to him.

You know he’s going to be hungry. All men are always hungry. What you do not want is for the two of you to be pawing through your leftovers in what should be a romantic moment.

But what they eat and drink depends on their type.

So, think it through.

Say he’s a meat and potatoes kind of guy. He likes beer, not wine. So have a platter of sliced sausage and cheese ready in the refrigerator. Have frosted beer glasses in the freezer. Be sure the beer is cold. Sure, his breath might be a little garlicy, but you’ve already signed on for that.

He’s maybe a little more sophisticated. Have grapes and brie, of course, with water crackers and champagne. He’ll appreciate your understanding of what he likes. And, remember, grapes are always associated with romance. It’s a nice, subtle signal.

The point is finger food is best. You really don’t want to be slopping around with Irish stew at this point.

Here’s an important tip. Make sure whatever you decide to offer him fits on one platter, a platter you can gracefully carry to the bedroom. If you’re very confident and have laid in a lot of supplies, have him carry the platter while you take up the slack with the bottles and glasses.

Tip number two. Use a breakfast tray if you have to, but ensure there is a place to put it that is not on the bed. Keep that area clear for other activities that may come up. Get it? Clear off your nightstand. No sense sweeping your tissues and romance books into a drawer in front of him. Too ad hoc.

Tip number three. Whether he’s a meat and potatoes guy or a sophisticate, you’ll need napkins. If you give him sausage, trust me, he’ll eat it, but he’ll get his fingers greasy. If there isn’t any room on the platter, drape the napkins over the food.

Tip number four. If you’re uncomfortable padding around naked, have a chemise or peignoir draped artfully over a chair…within reach. Slip into it on the way to the kitchen. Practice this move if you have to.

Tip number five. Don’t fight him for food and don’t take the biggest pieces. He’ll notice.

Advance planning is the key. If he’s very alert and has been very well trained, he’ll know this kind of effort required a little planning. That’s nothing to worry about. If he mentions it, tell him you’ve dreamed of what just happened. Tell him, you’d hoped it would.

He’ll eat that up, too.

The Fourth is coming up on Friday and it’s something to look forward to because real women love men who can grill. Men who grill are manly men. A man wearing an apron while tending a grill is masculine. A man wearing an apron in the kitchen is a wuss…unless of course he is a chief in which case he is a manly man.

There’s something about a man who wields a large spatula around a burning grill that causes that lovely atavistic frisson which can lead to still lovelier things later provided he also cleans the greasy grill pan.

One of my sister’s husbands liked to fish. He would bring home everything, including the tiniest, most inedible aquatic vertebrates. At that time, she was still interested in pleasing him, so she’d go into apparently genuine raptures about the most insignificant of catches. (He always took this excessive praise as his due which amazed me and was a part of the self importance that finally led Mary to give him the boot.)

It was only later that I understood she was experiencing the same thrill I experience when a man grills, that sort of primal connection to food and the feeding of loved ones.

Here then are my top five reasons to encourage your man to grill.

First, it gets him away from the television set. There is nothing more annoying than to be stuck in the kitchen while everyone else is watching TV. Grilling will get him onto the patio or porch where you can watch him and wave to him encouragingly while you’re stuck in the kitchen.

Second, it gets the kids away from the television. All kids love fires. This shouldn’t alarm you unless of course they begin to set them. A grilling fire will get them off their cell phones or ipods at least for a few minutes.

Third, he’ll drink less beer. This may not be entirely true.

Fourth, he’ll demonstrate his competence to the entire family. This is a good thing. Children and partners are all reassured when the man of the house demonstrates competence in tasks they’ve set for themselves. We tend to believe, rightly or wrongly, that this competence translates into other areas. It will be up to you of course to make sure the chicken is cooked through before it comes off the grill. This may lead to an argument. Be gentle, but firm.

Fifth and most important, you’ll enjoy that shared sense of accomplishment when the hot dogs and hamburgers come off the grill. You’ll glance at each other tenderly between mouthfuls of char grilled beef fat. And if some drips down your blouse, not to worry. You can always change into something pretty later on.

He’ll want you to.