It’s Summer–Isn’t It?

Human sexuality is supposed to be "seasonless," meaning that people have sex all the time, while animals usually confine this activity to the spring. But most women soon learn that spring affects our males as well–they get a spring in their step, they eye the girls, and if they’re bold, they may even come up and whisper something in your ear. If you’re in a store, the nearest male will come up and ask if he can help you (while he ignores the man you came in with). Whitley and I actually USE this in places like computer stores and office supply stores, where one is likely to be ignored–I tell him, "Don’t worry, I’ll just wear a tight tee shirt."

I remember how angry I used to get every spring when, as a young Feminist, I would suddenly get all this (what I then thought of as) chauvinistic attention from men. I remember the time I was walking down the street in New York City, carrying an umbrella (as one always did in the spring), when I heard some really sexist remarks being made by the man behind me. I let him catch up to me and poke the sharp point of my umbrella behind me and got him right in the–well, you know. I think I hit the bulls eye, so to speak, because when I looked back, he was hopping around, obviously in pain.

I wouldn’t do that today: now that I’m an older Feminist, I appreciate these sorts of remarks! Whenever I get what I call an "OGG" (an "old guy glance"), it makes me feel good. I’m writing this in the middle of summer, but the men around me seem to think it’s still spring. Could this be because the weather was so terrible when it really WAS spring? The economy was bad too, which brings on stress, which raises that nasty hormone cortisol, which lowers male testosterone and libido. The economy is STILL bad, but maybe males are coping with it better at this point so their minds can move on to where they usually are in the spring.

I’ve noticed the "spring effect" is especially strong in the old guys. Could this be because they realize that their springs are numbered? We went to a conference chaired by an 85-year-old man who talked extensively about his sex life (he was celibate for awhile, due to his spiritual searches, but found he just couldn’t stay that way). Then we went to a bookstore where I overheard a man with a gray beard and a cane asking the people at the customer service desk if they had any books on "erotic triggers."

I’m an older, wiser woman now, so I say: Go for it, guys! Don’t hesitate–"it’s not over until the fat lady sings." And she’ll sing the loudest if she’s having some good sex.