Testosterone Dudes

Men. Ya can't live with 'em, ya can't live without 'em. After all, your life began because of a man (with the help of a woman), so the question becomes, will you spend/end your life with one. And also, who's in control, them or us?

There's no question that men are woven into the fabric of our daily lives, they are an important part of who we are, specifically, who I am. The significant men in my life have been a random cross-section of male personalities, traits and testosterone levels. Great men, good men, not so good men. In an act of self-preservation and an exercise of self-discovery (which I am bravely sharing with the world), I have been thinking about this male/female topic for some time now. Today I have chosen to review the most significant men in my life, beginning with my Dad...

My Dad. Joel Ray Baugh. Tall, skinny, creative, artistic, handsome, ever-searching, tolerant, curious, married to my Mom (Marilyn Jean Frederick) for nearly 50 years (until his death) but separated for almost half of that time, father of 3, dapper dresser, not religious as a result of his Dad and unresolved religious questions, never smoked, a journalist with a temper, unconvinced Christian.

My Grandpa Baugh. James Wesley Baugh. Huge -Texas rancher huge, uncommonly devout, photographic memory, intolerant, baritone, frisky (my grandma's word), never smoked or drank, southern through and through although transplanted to the southwest and California in his mid-30's, married to my Grandma (Zora Middlehouse) for over 70 years, father of 7, a devout Nazarene with a penchant for prayers long enough to run off two sincere LDS elders (mid-prayer).

My Boppy. Harold H. Frederick. Small, quiet, huge smile, dedicated to my Mimi (Jessie Eliza Parkins) and married to her until his death, birth father of one son who died at birth, adoptive father of 1 (my mother, Marilyn Jean Frederick), mid-western through and through, dapper dresser, always wore a hat, smoked a pipe, lifetime employee of Paxton, Illinois' one and only men's clothing store, community church member and regular attendee.

My Brother. James Frederick Baugh. Tall, skinny, handsome, creative, artistic, compassionate, tolerant, native Californian who was born, lived and died there, window designer for Saks and Nieman Marcus in Newport Beach, baptized a Mormon when he was 18, musician, artist, considered my kids as his own, adored, conflicted on his sexuality until he was an adult, died of AIDS in 1985 after being diagnosed just 6 months earlier.

My Uncles. Dad's three brothers. Wes, Glen, and Leo Baugh. Wild, rebellious, fun, with great belly laughs, one with red hair, one bald, one so handsome and successful he dated starlets, all married and divorced at least once, not religious because of their father's overly zealous religious demands, all fathers, some successful, some not, a butcher, a bartender and a rancher.

My Sons. Kurt, Kollin and Kyle Avarell. Three hard-working, spiritual and honorable young men who have made choices in life that will make them successful, comfortable in their own skins, and joyful. Two former LDS missionaries. They inspire me every day.

My Sons-In-Law. JR Jorgensen and (soon) Logan Washburn. Two hard-working, spiritual and honorable men who each chose one of my daughters to spend their lives with. I love them and appreciate them both.

My Grandsons. Daelan, Kiel and Jespen Jorgensen. These three young men inspire me daily with their zest for life, their energy, their enthusiasm. Just the thought of them makes me smile. Regular church goers, probably future missionaries.

My Friends and More. Wally Cook, kissed him on the bus in kindergarten which created quite a ruckus and required a note from the bus driver to my Mom concerning my behavior, my first lesson in love. John Barker, my Mom loved John because he had perfect table manners and knew how to correctly eat soup from a bowl by pulling the spoon toward you, rather than pushing it away from you; typical heart-throb guy, later played the guitar and sang in clubs; a real heart-breaker; lost him to a friend with a knock-out figure - my first lesson in the reality of male hormones aka testosterone; Grif Thomas, great friend from 4th grade on, quiet spirituality, musical, talented, smart, we dated quietly and randomly in high school/college, my first lesson in how NOT to win the guy, he married a great gal and I still keep in touch with Grif, Sue and their family. Charlie Goodspeed, long-term boyfriend through high school, spotted him at a Community Hall "concert" featuring a local band in the summer of 1969, reconnected at our high school football game the following year and dated him from 1969 until 1974, a brainiac with a penchant for technology before it even existed, tall, dark, handsome, devoted, in control, educated, doubting spirituality, first lesson in what kind of guy I wanted to end up with, he married a redhead named Jan and they are still happily living in northern California. Kory Avarell, the father of my children. Tall, handsome, white eyebrow, BMW's, funny as heck, played the guitar, talented, smart, served a Mormon mission in Guatemala, baptized me in Lake Arrowhead, shared the best years of my life (he had me at "hello"), together for over 20 years, married for nearly 18 years, divorced in 1993. He still makes me laugh. Roy Jespersen, a great friend since 1976, talented, handsome, educated, self-assured, smart, funny, creative, tolerant, in control, philanthropic, spiritual, father of 3, a huge influence in my life over the years and a great example of a successful marriage (with Anne) following devastating divorce, I consider Roy and Anne friends for life. Kim Belcher, the friend I shouldn't have married, and I (we?) knew it immediately (on our honeymoon) but still gave it a short, but too long, run. Hal Krisle, "the man I had been waiting for" was my immediate thought when I first saw Hal; tall, dark, handsome, devout Mormon, hard worker, opinionated, devoted, uber-patient in some things, not-so-patient in others, supportive, smart. Married in 1998, I will always love this man. Bill Hunt, my 25+ years friend, the husband of my best friend, Dee, and my boss for several years at Suncadia; a good man with a good heart, hard working, successful, in control, semi-tolerant, self-assured, father of 3, converted Mormon, charming, handsome, tall, smart, educated, a great mentor, I consider Bill and Dee friends for life. Neal Ackerly, the PhD that showed me more in a few years about some aspects of life than I had learned in the past twenty; in control, supportive, naively spiritual, karma-seeking, unassumingly charming, handsome, intelligent, redneck, tolerant, self-assured, archeologist, over-educated, father of one son, a friend for life. Miscellaneous, the many men who have befriended, counseled, chastised, educated, supported, loved, left, advised, played with, mourned with, celebrated with, and basically kept me going from birth to this day through quiet acts of kindness, moments of rare selflessness, road trip therapy or outright generosity, some from my youth, some from my young married life, some professional relationships, some from this more mature place in life, and even some newly formed friendships; former teachers, bishops, pastors, neighbors, co-workers, classmates, church leaders, professors, boyfriends, friends, and chance acquaintances.

So many different men, so many different personalities, so much influence on me. Funny. Smart. Tolerant. Educated. Spiritual or Religious. In control. These are the very few commonalities. Well, and testosterone, of course.

Interesting: Funny. Smart. Tolerant. Educated. Spiritual. In control. Hmmm.

I love the male species. I have learned much from this bunch of testosterone dudes and I am grateful for every one of them. However, I have to admit that I love some a lot more than others. There's a reason we are supposed to partner and live our lives "two by two", and it's simple - we like testosterone, and they simply can't live without us!

The male species. Ya can't live with 'em, ya can't live without 'em. How to sum this up? As I said in an earlier post: It's a zoo out there! The animals are going wild. The testosterone is raging. The dudes have come out to play; some are hiding behind hormone-supported walls, but most are charmingly boyish behind that aloof yet commanding veneer.

So wait, who's in control?

I honestly don't know, but I do know this: If it's a man, I hope he has a loyal (and patient) woman by his side to help along the way!

Village People "YMCA"

Simplicity

What can you say about someone who loves you unconditionally - especially when you are me?

Lots of things, I suppose, and it's not a simple answer.

Life isn't simple. I am not simple.

Relationships aren't simple. Marriage is not simple.

Somehow I think I missed the instruction booklet on relationships. I actually have done better (even with all the mistakes I made) at raising 6 kids then I have done in relationship(s) and marriage(s).

Yes, (s). As in more than one.

Sad isn't it? More than one marriage...I mean really, even those who are happy and love their marriage would say that ONE is enough!

But not me, oh no. I keep thinking I can learn from my mistakes and be more successful the next time, but that isn't the answer. It's like starting from scratch all over again. This is not the way to do it. I am certain they spelled that out in the instruction book I missed.

So what's the deal?

I am not overly difficult. However, I am not overly easy either.

I am a redhead. (yes, that says volumes)

I am relatively intelligent.

I am fairly quick thinking.

I get bored easily.

I love to be on the go.

I love to laugh.

I trust completely. (which means I am completely vulnerable)

I can laugh at me, myself and I...and the rest of life.

I can forgive.

I have a quiet faith. I have learned to trust in God, not men.

I can love. Sometimes too much, sometimes not enough.

I am not too far off the track, am I?

No, at least I don't think I am. So, I am confused. Why isn't it simpler?

I know that one thing is for certain -

Relationships aren't simple. Marriage isn't simple. It takes work, compromise, honesty, patience, humor, forgiveness and unconditional love.

I have the pieces down, I can do all of those things, almost effortlessly. I just can't seem to put them together in the right place and the right time and in the right order to complete the whole puzzle. There's always something missing, that critical piece in the middle.

Except for that one piece, all the rest of the pieces seem to be here, but I can't get them to fit right.

So, no, it's not simple. And that's a problem.

Because in the end, that is what I want - something a bit more simple. Not something easy, something simple. Not something effortless, something natural. Something pure. Something true. Something honest. Something that fits.

I want a relationship that is calm yet fun, steady yet exciting, dependable yet spontaneous, trustworthy yet breathtaking.

I want a companion. I don't need to be bowled over, I just need my hand held. I am strong, but not that strong. I am independent, but not that independent. I want to enjoy life with someone.

Simplicity, in a world of chaos. It MUST be in the box somewhere; some of the pieces are almost perfect, but not quite. If I really pushed hard, I could MAKE them fit, but that's not how it should work. It should take effort, not force.

I am not asking for a miracle. I just want all the pieces to fit together, and I want that one center piece that has always escaped me. The real one. Not an imitation. Not a substitute. The real McCoy.

My fear is that in the chaos I have made of my life, I might have already found it and then lost it.
Or maybe I should just acknowledge that I did find it and then lose it. No fear needed. Just own up to it.

Or maybe it's just waiting to be found for the first time, or rediscovered after being lost, or appreciated after being taken for granted.

I know this much, whatever it is, it's not simple.

So, what can you say about someone who loves you unconditionally - especially when you are me?

A simple "thank you" would be a good start. "I love you" could follow, but only if it's from the heart.

And instructions, simple instructions would help too.

Find. Love. Hold on, not too tight, but hold on. Love. Commit. Love. Don't let go. Love. Appreciate. Love. Enjoy. Love. Support. Love. Share. Love. Have Patience. Love. Renew Often. Love. Respect. Love. Live. Love.

That should do it.

Maybe I need to write AND read the instruction book.

Simplicity, huh? If only it really was simple.

Whitney Houston "I Will Always Love You"

Something Old, Something New

It's a crap shoot, ya know, this wedding stuff. You plan and you plan and you just never know how that day's gonna turn out, with one exception - you can be fairly certain that the bride and groom won't notice much beyond each other and won't remember much of the extravaganza.

White is so banal anyway. What's to remember? No wonder we add colors and flowers and people in frilly dresses and dark suits with fancy ties. It makes sense that colored mints are par for the course and towering cakes with unfamiliar people perched on top are de rigor.

And now it's customary to add trees and white lights (everywhere)...it's a wonder the bride doesn't trip over some poorly placed chord.

And this brings me to Kelly and Logan, the newly engaged couple who didn't even want a wedding. And I can see why. Who wants to have bags of leftover mints as dessert for the next year, topped by a frozen (and stale) cake top with those same unfamiliar people cryonically preserved and still perched on the inch of sugar-icing? I am pretty sure they don't. But I bet the cake cutting moment will be worth all that planning!

Who wants to worry about what color hat someone might wear and how people who really don't like each other (but come together for these very spay-eh-shul occasions) might act? No one, which is why most folks are on their best behavior at weddings.

So, why have a wedding? It's expensive, it's stressful, it's over in an hour, you have to invite people you have never met - and you have mints left over.

The bride has to find the dress of her dreams, in one shopping spree usually. The groom has to suck in for a cumberband of appropriate color. They both have to select "best" friends and favorite family members to serve in the wedding party. It's a wonder weddings don't sometimes turn into family feuds. It's more of a wonder that more couples don't elope mid-wedding-planning. I am certain many consider it. So what keeps them on track, what motivates them to have a wedding? Love. Family. Tradition. Celebration. Friends. Love......

Weddings are celebrations of life and love. They are as much, if not more, for the guests (family, friends, others who have to be invited because of that silly Vanderbilt book of etiquette) as they are for the couple getting hitched.

And there's an interesting phrase, "Getting hitched." Sounds like redneck trailer talk to me. "Hitch it up, Fred!" Somehow, "Hitch her up, Logan" just doesn't feel right.

So, we have weddings, we invite people "just because" AND "because!", we hope for civility, grace and courtesy from all, but mostly, we love that feeling of hope and dreams and optimism that young couples in love almost ooze, to say nothing of those mints; so we plan and plan an hold our breath in both excitement and dread all the time watching out for those loose chords and saying quiet prayers that this union will be one for the eternities.

Knowing Logan and Kelly...and watching them together, and sensing their mutual respect and witnessing their obvious love for each other... this one's a slam dunk.

Which brings me to Ralph Bobik...and those size 14 Converse basketball shoes he wore to my reception - with his tux - in 1976, sending my poor Dad into heart failure. I love that guy. I am not sure my Dad felt quite the same affinity for Ralph at that moment of truth when Joel (my Dad) looked at Ralph and said "YOU BETTER NOT have forgotten your dress shoes."

I loved my Dad. And I love that memory (which proves that brides DO remember some things from their weddings and receptions!).

And I love Converse. And I love weddings. And I love Kelly and Logan.

And now I get to go help Kelly find the dress of her dreams in one shopping spree.

And maybe even a perfect pair of Converse, for a very special day and an even more special girl.

Of course it won't matter, she won't remember much of it anyway. But I will and so will everyone else who is there. But the person who will remember? Logan. The minute Kelly comes into view - princess for a day to all of us but in Logan's mind that day will be one of those eternal photoshot moments, forever engraved in his memory.

Weddings. An old tradition for a new love.

Well, and for the mints, of course.

Elvis Presley "Something Blue"

BLING! BANG! BLING!

It's hard to imagine accepting a diamond engagement ring from a kneeling man while holding a gun in your hand.

It's harder to imagine a man kneeling behind a woman who has a loaded gun in her hand.

But it's easy to imagine Kelly and Logan together forever.

The proposal was proper. Dad had been asked, Logan was on his knee, the ring was sparkling and Kelly (unaware of the proposal) was probably the only thing not exactly in proper form. After all, she was wielding a pistol when she turned from her target practice to find Logan down on one knee behind her and holding a ring.

What's a girl to do in this situation? Are there etiquette books about this kind of proposal? I don't think so.

Kelly's instincts kicked in, almost as quickly as the tears started flowing, and she quickly (and carefully) tucked the gun behind her while offering her left hand to accept the blinding diamonds.

Now, we don't know what was actually said during those sentimental (and armed) moments, but I can tell you this - Logan must trust Kelly. And there is no doubt that Kelly trusts Logan.

There weren't any witnesses that I am aware of that day, but there were certainly sparkles and grins and tears and love, and yes, ammunition and weapons.

Thank heavens these two found each other.

Now they can write the first etiquette book for proposals on a rifle range, and include a special chapter about accepting a diamond ring from the man you love, while holding a gun in your hand.

Clear!

Transplants "Diamonds and Guns"