We are living in strange times. One of our governments wants to eliminate the words girls, females, babe, broad, women, you name it. I don’t get it, but maybe I do.

To me women are the flowers or humanity. They grow, blossom, glow with birth then sometimes turn into angry bitches. I warn young men to take a different approach to women. Within that glorious exterior is a human being. Could be a good one, an intelligent one, a devoted one, an angry one, a bad one, you name it.

And maybe that’s why someone wants to eliminate the woman thing, so that we look at all humans as folks, pure and simple. But what would that do for man and his biological drive to fuck as many women as possible.

Dr. Pat Allen explained in her book that religions and monogamous relationship laws are diametrically opposed to how we are made. We are designed to procreate our race, pure and simple. Women, since they must be devoted to the cause for nine months, are pickier, and sometimes not.

If you watch Call of the Midwife, a wonderful series about midwifery after WWII into the ‘70s. A buddy of mine believes the series is all about Christianity. It’s a well-produced and acted series, but a major point is the struggle of pregnant women to survive and have a baby, and mostly men aren’t worth the powder to blow them to hell.

But beyond the biological drive some men have devoted themselves to family life with a single woman. While many of us have chased many dreams called women forever.

So, what do women represent to you? I’ll tell you some of my thoughts. They represent everything good in the world. Even in the middle of a fight or a war, a beautiful woman can stop the killing.

They represent a sort of freedom from the struggles of life. Just a warm smile or a kind word can set a man on a fresh new path.

They represent tenderness and warmth.

They represent inspiration and drive, for if there were no women why would a man work so hard?

They encourage creativity in every form from tattoos, to choppers, to writing, music, architecture, luxury yachts, painting, pinstriping, leather works, you name it.

I got a kick out of being at cover photo shoots for Easyriders. A brother would haul his creation, delicately in an enclosed trailer across five states to a studio in Hollywood to have it photographed with a model for the cover. He would prep and clean his creation he toiled and saved for, for half a decade, for this day.

This tiny broad would show up in a bath robe, her hair a mess, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. We would whisk her into the make-up room where she would be primmed and prepped.

When she emerged from the prep room she could set the world on fire. Everything stopped and all eyes were on her. The motorcycle was no longer important, only the glint in her eyes, the soft curve of her boobs.

The bike owner would be so moved, he’d return to home and Kansas, spend another couple of year building another shapely chopper just to return to do it all over again. Often the models were tiny little girls, but tall and statuesque in the photos wearing 6-inch high heels.

Sure, women sometimes bring out the best and the worst in men, but it’s all about drive and passion. What’s life without passion? I’m reading a book about William Dampier, who sailed around the world three times in the 1600s. He sought three things: to understand life and navigation, to survive and to have a woman in every port.

I’m struggling with the story of my life and the other night I started to understand why I’m Bandit. In a sense I wanted all my women to allow me to have other women. That’s what often came between us. I wanted to enjoy the flowers blossoming.

Maybe, I’m giving them way too much credit, but women represent more whether they like it or not. They represent kindness and motherhood, gentleness and warmth. They represent the best in society and the world.

Believe me, I warn younger men of all the pitfalls with women. I try to explain the similarities between marriage and partnerships. And how they need to be very careful where love and infatuation can take a man.

But if you are wise and careful, women can be an absolute delight and completely harmless. It only took me 50 years to fully understand the formula.

I recently came face to face with another womanly description equating women with the sun. It snowed all day yesterday in Deadwood. I swept and shoveled several times. I doesn’t seem to take on the doomsday gray of some other winter climates I’ve encountered.

Today I awoke to a light misting of snow, but then as I worked out in the rec center the basement window revealed blue skies as the sun arrived in full form and the brilliant blue skies unleashed majestic blue colors green pines and light. As the day rolled on the warming effects of the sun melted the snow.

This evening I watched a documentary and it equated the suns effects on our wellbeing and how the sun is much more that light, but also warmth. I thought about the day and about how a woman can add color to your life, brightness, and ultimately warmth. It made sense, and her touch, shape, and words can invigorate and enhance any situation.

I know, I’m giving humans way more credit than perhaps they deserve. But when it’s winter and the skies are gray as battleships, the ground is cold and muddy, the trees are without color like skinny frozen skeletons and your car is black and filthy, imagine opening the door to your pad after a hard days work and she approaches half dressed, her blue eyes bright and carefully adorned with her cheeks rosy and warm and her skin so soft it’s almost a crime to touch her with calloused and scarred hands.

Her thick wavy hair (blonde brunette or red) bounces ever so lightly on her naked shoulders. Her boobs are deliciously round and bubbly, jiggling slightly trying to escape the confines of her lacy bra. Here tummy is almost more that any man can stand as it flexes with her movements like a snake slithering between two rocks.

As she hands you a chilled glass mug briming with your favorite brew, she softly like pedals falling from a rose, says something so endearing you feel as if you just died and went to heaven. The warm words wrap you in a blanket of ultimately warm confidence. It’s that comforting moment when everything in the world is just right.

 

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