You Have No Control Over Your Friend's Priorities (Especially His Spiritual Priorities) As He Himself Leads As A Husband / Father

A few years back, I was blessed to meet Zane.  I'd felt so moved to participate in a day mission trip with our church, Lakeside Pres, in order to expose my youngest daughter to "Delta Streets" in Greenwood, MS.  This private all-boys academy was founded by a man who'd grown up in our church, and I knew enough of it to know of its impact and solidarity as a ministry.

It was a steamy summer day in '22 when our group of 15-20 Presbyterians made the early morning trek.  Zane, at the time, was only officially visiting Lakeside Pres with his wife and two elementary age daughters.  He'd heard about this Saturday missional opportunity, and despite not knowing anyone all around, showed up to participate.

And this speaks to one aspect of what initially and continually draws me to him.  

Zane is like Superman.  Selfless and willing to work really hard to help others.  And this correlates too as it pertains to his physical stature.  Though he's not a head & shoulders taller than most men, his upper body is built like an ox.  That combined with the 4" neatly manicured black beard / olive skin makes him appear like some sort of lumberjack mercenary.

What I soon discovered too, that also correlated similarly (Man of Steel analogy) is that Zane sees himself as "not at home in this world".

He grew up impoverished in rural Mississippi, and though he physically exited that setting immediately following graduating high school, his heart never did.  Every family member of his (& he's fiercely loyal to each) is still there, and they communicate regularly.  As such, when opportunity knocks, he points his GMC truck southwest 'till he arrives in remote Franklin County.  And once he's there, he'll stay as long as conceivably possible.  

Zane's father died unexpectedly 2-3 years prior to me meeting him.  In fact, according to Zane, as his father's health failed, he chose to suffer privately, and in lieu of seeking out medical care (his excuse was his lack of health insurance coverage), he passed away quickly as a result. 

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With our family's platonic support (we quickly took these younger folks - they're about ten years younger than us - under our wing), Zane's troop joined Lakeside Pres.  In line with that, his oldest daughter became involved in the church's youth ministry!  This child is socially awkward, quiet and reserved.  As such, it was a big leap for her (she's one year younger than our youngest daughter).

Up to the past few months, Zane and I have lunched regularly.  He's a fantastic listener / very intelligent / great conversationalist, and I've found him to seemingly warm up to "life in the big city" as I've had the opportunity to expand his horizons a bit.  Lol.

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What I've discovered though about Zane, that I cannot reconcile at this point, is how he prioritizes for himself & his side of the family (his people back home), the opportunity to fill shoes that belonged to his dad.  Is it guilt or loneliness or laziness / rut, or is this actually normal behavior that I shouldn't even question? 

His dad's deer camp is the epicenter of this role play.

For those of you who've no idea what deer camp is, let me provide a quick overview.

A large percentage of rural (& urban) Mississippi white men aggressively hunt the white tail deer (& prepare extensively year-round to do so - via bow & gun season) at their individual deer camp.  The camp itself consists of hunting land along with some semblance of a centralized waylay point.  This hub can be as basic as a series of makeshift structures large enough to shelter antiquated RVs to elaborately designed / built lodges that feature every imaginable, present day luxury.  

What Zane has access to back home, now that his dad is deceased, is far more in line with the former than the latter.

Nonetheless, when his dad died, he chose to purchase his father's membership within his particular club, and from there, he's never looked back.

The older men who were once his father's community have now become his community, and he absolutely loves the experience of "carrying the torch" forward.  These men, no doubt, love Zane as they loved his dad in their own unique ways.  Like father, like son.  As such, I've no doubt they, in turn, grieve their loss of Zane's father through his very presence.

As such, though he's loathe to admit to it, investing his time / energy therein is his main emotional / spiritual priority.  It feels natural and safe.  Plus, it's home for him.

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What I'd hoped for in Zane when he and his brood joined our church was for that commitment to be more than checking a box.  And as you can imagine, me seeing him VOLUNTEER his time so selflessly early on only added to that hope.

But his deer camp family is where it's at, therefore his church family has always been / continues more & more to be kept at arm's length.  And it may remain that way for as long as I'm privileged to call him friend.

Why does this matter?

If Zane were a bachelor, it wouldn't.  But he has a wife and two daughters, one of which just entered high school.

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White women who're wives / mothers, typically do the prioritizing (choosing) to either put their families in the church house on Sundays, Wednesdays, etc. or never darken the door.  Women tend to care about their family as a unit, and for those who see holistic church involvement as an asset, they're going to own that pursuit for their brood.  Therefore, their husbands need not necessarily lead in this regard.  Instead, the role of deacon / elder may serve to be their primary focus therein.  

Within Zane's family, this isn't the case, therefore due to Zane's priorities being elsewhere (as I've described above), church has slowly taken even more of a backseat for his entire clan.   

Zane's wife is, like so many women her age, captivated by every facet of social media.  To the point that she's a conspiracy theorist.  She also struggles with her physical self image, but partially due to the social media captivation, makes no committed, ongoing effort to address the issue. 

Zane's now high school daughter literally has her pocket computer glued to her face whenever she's awake (which based on my understanding is far too much considering the typical 24-hour day).  And this child is highly intelligent and very, very secretive / manipulative.  

And then there's the youngest daughter.  She's sort of the tagalong of the fam.  She's a tiny little thing, loathed by her older sister due to her ability to instantaneously draw attention / concern from seemingly anywhere.  

All that being said, if Zane doesn't "rally the troops" each and every Sunday / Wednesday, ain't nobody he's responsible for darkening the door of Lakeside Pres.  And I can't change that. 

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In conclusion, here's another caveat for you to chew on regarding this friendship of mine.

Zane strength trains regularly far more than I do.  In fact, we'll unexpectedly rendezvous at the Y during the week in the early evenings.  In fact, that's become a more regular occurrence (when we first met, he was going during the wee hours of the morning).  

And he's just as disciplined as I am regarding his specific routine.  In other words, he's not there for any other reason than to put in the work.  

If I didn't / hadn't come to know him through Lakeside Pres three years ago, I would NEVER approach him therein within that setting.  In fact, it's quite humorous (internally) to me as I imagine what it must look like for he and I to chitchat whilst leaning over the bed of his GMC truck out in the Y parking lot (as the sun sits low over the western horizon) post workout.  We're an odd coupling, for sure. 

And we could talk for hours.  For whatever reason, he considers me safe and I too see him as such in turn.  

I think in many ways, I'm like one of those older men from his Franklin County deer camp, but I just happen to be here in the "big city".  And I'm fine with that.  I just worry about his brood as I see time / opportunity slipping away.  But is this worry misplaced / overblown?

And that's how I prove to myself that I love this man like a brother.  It's my desire to want the very best for him and his family.

Nonetheless, I can only pray and provide support in light of the influence I've been afforded for such a time as this.  This brother is NOT a Samson brother.  Hence, restraint is expected.  Ultimately, I need faith to let him lead his life / family as he sees fit.  It's the respect I owe him just as he's afforded that same respect towards me.

Decent Jocks Choose Not To Invest In (Nor Advertise Towards) A Harem Of Whores

Professional athletes (male) aren't just physically superior on the playing field.  For coitus is a physical activity too.  And alongside coitus is libido for which pro athletes typically have in spades.

I remember the occasion like it was yesterday.

My family had chosen to take a new friend's (our church's then Associate Pastor) children to a "Gatti Town" pizzeria for dinner / game night (the year was 2010).  Whilst seated in the dining area, eating the restaurant's unimaginably greasy pizza, there playing on the wall television was none other than the following:

What's interesting to note is that this young man apparently loathed the fact that his own father (who'd been dead for four years when this press conference was taped) had a penchant for surrounding himself with whores.  Earl Woods was very close to his son.  So close, I believe, that he was his son's golf coach for much of his life.  The harem of whores his father entertained were part of their traveling road show as Tiger played professional golf around the globe.  

Strangely, like father, like son.

But the most shocking pro athlete sex disclosure (that I've heard) was this one:

Damn.  That's disgusting.  Talk about vagina masturbation...

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Earlier this evening, I screened 20-30 minutes of this video:

What struck me is how decent Ms. Swift's pro athlete boyfriend is.  You can tell that he's made a decision to invest in knowing this very different human being really, really well despite their likes / dislikes / vocations / backgrounds.  Another observation:  Ms. Swift is no Amazon.  Instead, she's no doubt a normal-scaled adult female (all around).  As such, in contrast to her beau, you have to wonder how she's overcome the physical disproportion between her and her boyfriend.  And speaking of her boyfriend...

He recently had a high profile photo shoot that exemplifies the fact that physically, he's in his prime.  

If you know anything about the girl he's romantically attached to, she's introspective, extremely creative and the epitome of salt of the earth.  

Yet, he's a physical powerhouse.  Competitive, aggressive, forceful, masculine, jock, meathead, etc.

So, let's get down to the nitty gritty.

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If Ms. Swift's pro athlete boyfriend is to continue forward with this relational investment towards her (to the degree that he's sincerely displayed here), he's going to have to continue to wrangle his pro athlete size sex drive / high voltage allure 'till death do us part.  

How is that possible?

I think first & foremost, he's got to choose to be satisfied in her holistically versus exclusively as a bed partner.  

Ms. Swift has been very creatively public about her romantic history with men (her melodic compositions attest to this).  In doing so, she's made it very clear that experiencing further (romantic) relational hurt is in no way a priority.  As such, I have no doubt that her pro athlete beau has long since been privy to this (although I doubt he'd listened to much of her music prior to their first date). 

Too, she's no longer a spring chicken.  In other words, her eggs ain't getting any younger which is causing her biological clock to tick that much louder.  Therefore, being upfront about her expectations / coupled with an intentionally slow descent into romance had to have been a huge priority for her.  This is always a wise move, and she's obviously a wise (for her age) woman.

Of course, it's easy to see that he's just a big goofball.  Fun-loving and kind.  But that doesn't change the fact that he's a physical powerhouse.  Competitive, aggressive, forceful, masculine, jock, meathead, etc.

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So, in conclusion, if they've had intercourse / any other form of sexual intimacy (& hopefully they haven't since they're unmarried) when did it occur and how often has it happened?

I'd speculate just recently and very, very little overall.  

Why?

Sexual intimacy for nuanced women like Ms. Swift equates to an interweaving of deep seated emotions between her and her bedmate.  As such, this is where the "rubber meets the road" so to speak relationally.  Therefore, if the future holds a breakup, that decoupling will be exponentially more painful as a result of this emotionally validated genital connection.

(This is one obvious reason why the marriage bed is the VERY BEST place for sexual intimacy.)

All this being said, what about Ms. Swift's pro athlete beau's pro athlete-size libido / body / attention-seeking ambition?  What's to be done with  that?

This is what worries me.  Especially considering the recent, high profile photo shoot.  

Like so many pro athletes, Ms. Swift's beau undoubtedly feeds off of attention.  And very recently, he's not been shy about appearing sexy and available in order to obtain it.  

If he were my potential future son-in-law, I'd be asking, "What the hell were you thinking when you chose to allow those photos to be published?  Within almost all of them, you look like a half naked oaf."

Female Fun & Subsequently, Overexposure = Heightened Feminine Perception

1.  During the middle of April, my experience serving as a board member of a local nonprofit began to wane / languish inside.  The nonprofit's local mission was, in concept, exactly what I believed in (& had throughout my four-years of service), but the female Executive Director wasn't leading the org in line with any direction whatsoever from the 10-member Board.  Hence, we essentially were her minions / yes-men / women.  It was apparent throughout that everyone was perfectly fine with this hierarchy, and I was as well.  Until I wasn't. 

If you know anything about nonprofits, this is a backassward approach.  

But this female would have no part in being swayed from her reigning perch.  It was her way or the highway.  I blithely chose the highway a few weeks back by resigning from the board.

Doing this made me feel empowered but also very sad for I really will miss supporting the mission of that local org.  Yet, I won't miss this female.  She represented for me, a concentrated dose, with zero listening skills.

  

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2.  My middle daughter returned from studying abroad in Europe (Spring collegiate semester) last weekend.  Ever since last fall, her plan therein was to waylay for a few weeks prior to departing for her "next big thing" (Summer '25 away from home).  Not long after her arrival home, she approached me with the notion of cancelling her Summer '25 "next big thing" plans entirely, instead hoping to reside at home with her fam for the entirety of May, June & July.

Keep in mind that her "next big thing" Summer '25 away-from-home plan was duplicitous of what she did Summer '24 (which she enjoyed / benefited from greatly).

Multiple evenings were spent hashing out her desires / motives 'till I felt comfortable blessing her sentiency / maturity enough to position her standalone decision as fair / equitable.  

I felt deeply indebted to my wife for allowing me to assist our daughter in navigating this ultimate decision.  

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3.  My mother relishes the opportunity to host meals at my parents' home.  As such, every holiday / special event, it's her show (& has been for the past almost 30 years to the chagrin of my sweet wife).

A dinner birthday / homecoming (aforementioned study abroad grand/daughter) party was calendared (yet again, at her abode) a few weeks back for this past Friday night.  The birthday girl was to be my 93-year-old grandmother.

As an aside, last fall, mom insisted on providing me with specifics on how her brother (my grandmother's primary caregiver) physically assaulted / threatened to kill her.  She did this during our annual Thanksgiving meal (once again, at her home) while she and I were talking somewhat privately, and this disturbing commentary continued forward intermittently 'till I put my foot down.  As you might imagine, I was livid (not only regarding what I was hearing but taking into account too the setting I was hearing of it within).

I have no siblings; therefore, I can't pretend to comprehend on any level how those relationships work.  Nonetheless, I do know that every sibling relationship is unique and that the parents play a sizable modeling role therein as it pertains to the dynamic.  I also know that females long for peace and by default, sweep an awful lot under the rug, for better or for worse, yet too desire to be heard, heard, heard.  

But one thing you must know about my mother is this:  she's my uncle's puppet and always has been.  In fact, his own mother ('till she lost her ability to care for herself) was too.  Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.

In essence, my uncle is a highly intelligent, articulate manipulator who's all around intimidating to boot.  

Therefore, once I caught wind of my uncle's invitation to my grandmother's birthday party, I verbosely rescinded (last minute) me and my family's RSVP.  

Verbosely:  the use of too many words

Know this:  this wasn't profanity.  I simply solidly drove home my point.

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On the opposing side of this gender fun, I've been actively working towards obtaining proposals pertaining to some needed plumbing work at our small, 25-year-old abode.  Having met with 1, 2, 3 plumbing company reps (males) over the past week and a half, I was reminded of how distinctly different men and women communicate / engage.  

Nonetheless, I believe because I've been having so much female fun over the past few weeks, I've been hyper-observant / available emotionally - gender be damned!  And this vulnerableness has ratcheted up in proportion to my female fun milestones.  

And that's made this relatively simple task that much more exhausting (but holistically a bit fun as well).  

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In closing, I'm just tired out.  Lots of folks, women and otherwise have needed, expected, introduced themselves.  Each with their own position, stance, temperature, outlook.  As such, I'm reminded, no, been demanded to listen, react, observe intentionally.  For they're so very different than men.  Complex beyond belief.  And that complexity can enliven us to be far better and more capable than we ever would be otherwise.

Curiosity Guardrails

As a 52-year-old, I have and continue to be a very curious person.  And this curiosity primarily is seated towards men / boys / males.  Whether it's interpersonal, business, church, if males are involved therein, I'm curious as to who these dudes are specifically / what motivates them to be involved / their backstory, etc.  In other words, if I had been Steve Trevor, landing on Themyscira by accident, I would likely have quickly died from boredom.  Why?  To Rob, women, in particular, are incredibly boring / uninteresting handiworks of the Creator God.  And no, that statement doesn't automatically make me a misogynist.  For I love my wife and my daughters with my whole heart.  

As such, women / girls / females are of distinct value, but overall, I MUCH PREFER being opportunistic regarding rubbing shoulders with men / boys / males. & for the most part, this curiosity is rooted in my own gender combined with my distinct inability to see myself (good, bad or ugly) therein.  Combine those two together and you have an endless supply of motivation to be man / boy / male curious / associative.

A distinct benefit of my men / boy / male curiosity / fascination is it has allowed me to clinically analyze the cultural choice that so many men have made as it pertains to their homosexual desires, and the keyword there is clinically.  And I've been doing this from early on within my life as I crossed paths with in-person men prior to also overlaying that MO with those who present themselves online.  Earlier this week, I delved into a podcast that's hook is interviewing hyper-masculine gay porn stars.  And it was fascinating.  To have that granular opportunity here in 2025 is amazing.  For it allows me to see / understand / confirm my choices by analyzing - up close & personal - theirs.  All the while satiating my curiosity appetite (in ways that do not involve gay porn).  

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And that serves as a lovely segue into the ease of access of gay porn and why that's such an issue for me.

Covenant Eyes is my lifesaver.  It puts guardrails on my insatiable curiosity yet not so much that I feel like I'm being treated as if I'm a child.  

I have one Ally who monitors the CE reporting and WILL reach out if he sees activity (he receives my report on Monday) therein that seems abnormal.

This man is local, and we've known each other for many years (originating within in-person Samson Society).  I respect this man enough to know how his presence as my Ally influences my behavior online.

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What's unusual is how effective this is overall.  Now, there have been rare occasions (tail end of last year) where I've been lackadaisical, and this has resulted in me delving into gay porn consumption no holds barred (for a week or two).  But this approach / attitude isn't the norm.  

Nonetheless, if throwing caution to the wind does rear its head more than usual, I may very well turn on filtering within the CE sentinel software as a means to an end.  Thankfully, at this point, I've never had to do that.

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And yes, there are times when CE "craps out" and needs reinstallation.  All software has this trait, and mostly it's due to CE not being able to readily keep up with OS updates - rung to rung.  

In closing, CE is a huge partner of Samson Society.  I love this especially about their company. Countless men hear about Samson Society via their engagement with Covenant Eyes. 

All this being said, I just purchased a CE lifetime membership and am proud for it.

Thank you, Covenant Eyes for orchestrating my online behavior for the better.

Combating Mundanity (Loosening The Grip Of The Private, Self-Destructive Novelty)

When I worked for the State of MS ('06-'12), there were two sides to our team.  The opposing side (opposite the "employee team" I belonged to) were mostly smokers and all males.  And though their ages were varied, these white men (who were usually only in the office - for the full day - on Mondays & Fridays) made a point to take a smoke break - at least twice a day - in order to break up the mundanity of the government job.

I'll never forget naively discovering this routine via happenstance, and literally being shocked seeing most of them huddled up within the "designated smoking area" there on the north side of the Woolfolk building (basement level of the attached garage). 

What was great about this routine was the community it built amongst those men (in spite of the inhaled carcinogens).

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When I was in architecture school (+/-43 students were in my class of '95), I vividly recall two fellow students (one of which died a few years back) who smoked cigarettes regularly right outside the architecture school building.  One or the other of the two young men would initiate this ritual by moving within view of the other (their desks were on opposing sides of our assigned studio space).  From there, a cig would be raised high to signal what was to come next.

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What's the takeaway here?

Men get bored with routine.  It's the reason men / fathers aren't typically small children's (infants / toddlers) primary caregivers.  

We long for adventure and newfound experience(s).  And usually, a brotherhood component exists as part of that.    

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Privately consuming Internet porn is the antithesis of this.  No camaraderie.  No brotherhood.  Not to mention supporting an industry that's debased as a result.  Its digital toxicity running amuck with a reach & influence that's almost completely unchecked. 

I read an article earlier this week (I can't provide a link since it's behind a journalistic paywall) that featured a family with three adult sons, all three of which are floundering.  Two of the three young men dropped out of their collegiate studies and are now living at home whilst working for the family business.  Disillusionment was the theme.  The boys' parents were exasperated and losing hope.

There was no mention of video games, social media or Internet porn consumption being suspect in exacerbating the problem for this stagnated family.  This shocked me because it was so obvious (these were obviously rich, white people).

Instead, it indirectly blamed women gaining the educational / vocational upper hand and therefore outmaneuvering their male counterparts.  

Please.

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I'm almost an empty-nester (one to go!).  My wife works most evenings.  I love to exercise, but I do also covet my downtime.  

Nonetheless, I must be intentional about interrupting the mundanity of my existence sans self-destructive novelty (Internet porn consumption).  

Samson Society's brotherhood provides THE EASIEST fallback.  Whether it's attending meetings or being intentional about connecting with a brother one-on-one, there's an instantaneous isolation antidote.

If you haven't taken the plunge, I encourage you to do so today.

  

Jesus Loves Boobs

Northpark Mall in Ridgeland, MS was such the petri dish of maturation throughout my teenage years.  I spent hours upon hours there from ages 15-19 frying chicken at Chick-A-Fil on the second floor (right down from Dillard's).  The years were 1988-1991, and at that time, this particular MS mall was almost at its heyday.   

Spencer Gifts was downstairs from the Chick during this initial Northpark era, and this is where I began to discreetly obtain a collection of sexy greeting cards / calendars.  The photos therein were of muscular, handsome men posing / being photographed in order to capture / capitalize on their masculine beauty.  It was these photos that served as Rob's sexual fantasy reserve.  

Today, Spencer Gifts is located within an adjacent wing of Northpark Mall.  I was reminded of this Wednesday, (8/21) whilst walking down memory lane (& returning some clothes to Dillard's).  

On the Spencer Gifts' storefront was a T-shirt design that read "I Love Boobs!" (the word "Love" was a heart symbol).

I immediately was taken aback (which was the whole point of the display) for I couldn't imagine such a storefront during the late 1980s.  

But hey, this is 2024.

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When I run, I almost always wear a tank top.  I do this because it's a shirt that I wrestled mightily with wearing years prior.  Mucho shame had to be overcome.  But now, I find them to be my go-to for the gym, running. They're comfortable and a reminder of the importance of milestoning small victories.   

Our 'hood is filled with retirees, and they're out and about constantly walking their dogs.  One man (former runner) I encounter often (whilst exiting / re-entering our 'hood from a 5K run).  Years ago, I noticed how subtlety taken aback this mid 60s retiree reacts whenever I raise one of my arms (as if to scratch my head / wipe my eyes / point at a bird passing over) if and when we've paused to chat. For when I do this, he can't help but be exposed to / get a clear view of the defined / sculpted muscle mass within my shoulders / upper arms.  

My grandfather (dad's dad) died when my father was 9-years-old.  He was a chain smoker and was dead in his early 40s from lung cancer.  If you look at photos of the man, you can clearly see the broadness of his shoulders.  Bizarrely, he was +/-20 years younger than his oldest brother, therefore all of his siblings (he had three older brothers) looked more like grey-templed uncles than siblings.

As I began to strength train during my mid-30s (I'm in my early 50s today), I would have guys comment to me regarding my shoulders / upper arms and how muscular they were becoming.  I would immediately dismiss this affirmation on the surface, despite my knowing that it was absolutely in line with my Turner genetics.

My father's youngest brother (who was one of three of his brothers), being just one generation away from Joe Ware Turner, Sr. (my long since lung cancer deceased grandfather) absolutely received that same stocky upper-body build.  

And now there's me (along with one of my cousins).  

There's beauty there.  Plain & simple.  Not to everyone, mind you.  But certainly, to some.

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At Lakeside Pres, Pastor Tyson has been slowly marching us through the gospel of Matthew Sunday after Sunday after Sunday.  We're now close to wrapping it up, therefore he recently preached on Jesus being anointed via perfumed oil via his friendgirl Mary.  If you've never read the passage (chapter 26), I'd encourage you to do so.  

Never would a Protestant pastor insinuate the sensuousness of this tale, but if you read it from that point of view, it's undeniable.

Did Jesus appreciate the breasts of Mary as they brushed against him during this ritual?  Was his reaction therein what perpetuated the callous criticism of the whole affair?  Did he feel his cock getting erect as the liquid flowed from the alabaster flask?  

He had to have been so very pleased with himself for creating breasts to begin with as her bosom brushed his upper body throughout this whole scandalous / selfless affair.  

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(Some) Boobs really are beautiful.  

We've been so pleased to see a tenured couple recently returned to our church, and both have lost substantial weight whilst away.  As a result, the wife's breasts are decidedly smaller.

When they were members years prior, she'd often wear attire that "celebrated" her beautiful boobs.  I can remember on several occasions being stunned by her Sunday morning look.  

I knew her husband well enough to know that he was 100% onboard with her ecclesiastical seductiveness.

He maybe attended one or two Samson meetings overall (when I facilitated an in-person meeting there at the church).

It was eye opening to say the least.

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As Christian men who are looking for help with compulsive sexual sin, so many parachurch ministries decry:  "Look Away!  Look Away!  Look Away!"

I'm not so sure this is truly the most reliable long-term solution.  

Jesus loves boobs.  He created each pair with utmost attention to detail.  Can we not lean into his example by learning to appreciate sans capitulating to default lust?  

The Earnest Wife (Puppeteer). Am I Happily Married To A "Doormat"?

During my first Samson Society meeting back in August of 2014, I met a younger man who'd also lost (two, actually) jobs for breaking company policy (IT / personnel).  I wasn't at all sure how to feel about that connection for I was still deeply overwhelmed with shame / grief therein (my similar job loss occurred in September of '13).  

He was very friendly though and did not discount the role his wife played in his recovery.  This piqued my interest.

This younger professional man's initial job loss came during a season where their young family was (as the Turners were) living in small town MS.  They'd been there a good bit longer than our one year, and therefore had made more platonic connections.  As a result of his job loss, his wife promptly "threw him out" (his words) of their house which resulted in him bunking on a friend's couch for +/- one week.  Eventually, he found another job (civil engineering firm), and after that seemingly reciprocal termination, they found themselves looking for work either back home (AL) or somewhere in Jackson (they landed in "The Bold New City").

At some point during all of these fits & starts, my new friend's wife declared that her husband was "someone she didn't recognize".  

I really became dialed in at this revelation for I knew that what she actually meant was:

"This part of you that's so drawn to sexual content / salaciousness / flirtatiousness with the opposite sex, I refuse to acknowledge (though I've been aware of it all along)."

In other words, pretend to be someone else.  Everyone likes you better that way.

I believe it's important to know that his wife was deeply religious, having come from a deeply religious family.

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A much younger, mentally ill Samson brother was quick to call out "doormat" wives within our then troupe.  The year was probably 2018.  In that regard, the husbands married to these ladies were Type A, dominant males.  This younger man obviously felt as if wives shouldn't be submissive?  I have no idea.  

Of course, this raises the question of what actually is / qualifies as submissive.    

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My second architect bossman (1996-2006) divorced his first wife (the mother of his two young sons) due to her being "unreasonable".  This man was / is ten years my senior (he hired me when I was 24).  Now, he'd been intensely hands-on with their second son (birth - preschool), leading me to believe his wife was an educated, working full-time professional (this man, my boss, had since remarried - to one of his employees).  I was never given the opportunity to meet Wife One but oh, how I longed to.  I absolutely wanted to understand more about his terminology.

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Last year, I reached out to a Samson brother who'd posted grim marital news on Slack (on Xmas Eve).  From there, we began to chat weekly.  He'd been separated (but only during the daytime) from his spouse for awhile, living instead at his sister's home (20-minutes drive away).  He been readily dismissing his siblings / parents' criticism of the arrangement (they wanted him back living full-time within his own home).  Instead, choosing to vouch for his wife's demands.

Keep in mind that she was a homeschool mom (to three young children) with bizarre health issues that were / are seemingly undiagnosable.  In fact, one of those bizarre health issues convinced her to demand that they build a new home in lieu of living comfortably (except for her) where they were residing.     

My Samson brother too had lost a job (D-day) via breaking his employer's IT policy.  He'd also executed a full disclosure with his wife under the guidance of a therapist.  I believe it's important to note that his job loss and all the complications therein resulted in suicidal ideation.

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Another Samson (younger) brother whom I've communicated with for a number of years ranks within the top 3 pertaining to intelligence / career success.  He's a brilliant guy who's in turn making money hand over fist.  In spite of his drive / vocational stardom, he's recently endured an "in-home" separation from his spouse.  

Too, she's feeling more agreeable now that his pocket computer is locked down, leaving him unable to go online.

Now, when I say brilliant whilst describing this young man, I'm not referring to just a high ACT / SAT score kind of brilliant.  I'm talking about - change the world sort of brilliant.  

What's interesting about his situation is he's terrified of his wife and her threats (particularly related to divorce).  

Yet, they spend almost all of their free time together.  Whether it's playing sports or vacationing (together with their two small children).  

Another interesting note is his wife is of Mexican descent (he's white).

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And finally, another Samson brother attended last Sunday's "Brain Changers" virtual Samson Society meeting (that I facilitate), having (earlier that Father's Day) been humiliated by his wife (in front of their adult children) via her chiding him pertaining to his "untrustworthiness" with computers (pocket & otherwise).  He was so distraught at her crass disrespect (he was in the middle of doing vacation research for their family) that he was visibly shaken.  I didn't know what to do in response.  

But I can tell you what my kneejerk reaction was.

Hire a divorce attorney yesterday.

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My wife recognized three things back in 2013 (D-day) regarding Rob, her husband:

1.  He'd been honest with her regarding his struggles with sexual sin since their formal engagement in 1995.  

2.  He'd been actively looking for help ever since.  Particularly in line with technological advancements (digital smut's viral availability).  

3.  The emotional fallout tied to his job loss had been devastating to him personally as well as their marriage, considering the risk they'd both taken to execute the new vocational role (with three small children).

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What frustrates me about my friendships with Samson guys, who're either married or seriously involved with the opposite sex, is how disjointed my feelings become regarding WHAT I HEAR of their spouse / spouse's reaction.  And this is due to the overlay of my own spousal support therein.  

I suppose too that I truly believe marriage is a sacred yoking between two very imperfect people.  People who didn't choose marriage to begin with in order to not recognize the desire for integrated, ongoing support.  Especially considering the unpredictability of culture / technology / life and how they intersect personally with each of us as individuals.  

In closing, I often hear Samson guys disclosing how their wives don't feel safe around them anymore.  

As strange as it may sound, I don't know why any woman could find a man attractive who's completely safe to be yoked to.  Men, by definition, are masculine in the sense that they will things into existence that weren't there prior.  They're also disciplined and resilient in line with this pursuit.  Hence, yoking oneself therein will result in risks that far outsize the security baked into a life lived alone.  This is what makes men men, and it's what makes marrying a man so enticing.

When Rob's Reality Intersects With Normal Hetero-Masculine Reality (Outside Of The Controlled Environment Of Samson Society)

Computational failure.  That's what it feels like.  

Imagine observing an automobile unsuspectingly being driven along a nondescript street, and suddenly, it begins to fly.  Soaring higher and higher into the sky as if by some unseen nonrational force that affects nothing else around it.  

When I overheard the two guys from across the gym floor agree upon the statement that one had so confidently purported, just seconds prior, that's when the emotional laws of nature, for me, went all Calvin & Hobbes.

And I'm still feeling incredibly helpless whilst attempting to process that experience.  Again, computational failure.

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Most Samson men are heterosexual.  And that's because Samson Society serves as a microcosm of the world around us.  It has been my privilege to effectively & efficiently befriend countless of these heterosexual guys, throughout the past almost ten years, via the Samson Society landscape.   

What exactly is the Samson Society landscape?

It's the Neutral Zone to use a Star Trek term.

Essentially, a space where antagonism / posturing is neutralized because once inside, specific identities are dramatically downplayed therein.  Think of it as the space between two separate realities / territories.  A space that offers safety in spite of it being almost incomprehensible unless one's entered into it (by means of personal crisis).  

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Throughout the many years I've strength trained at our local Y, there've been plentiful days when a lovely fellow (female) gymgoer has been on the floor too.  I first remember seeing her working alongside a private trainer, but when that trainer relocated (years ago), this middle-aged goddess continued forward on her own, discipline intact.

The only words we've ever spoken to each other - through the years - have been formalities.  Nonetheless, it's obvious there's a mutual respect / comfort-level there.

I suspect that she's single.  Perhaps divorced.  And overall, compared to most every other female that graces the space regularly, this woman is, hands down, one of the most physically / emotionally attractive.  There's a certain youthful poise that radiates from her as she goes about her workouts confidently.

We'll call her Gina.

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Back in 2004, I had the good fortune to travel with a lighting (fixture) representative and his best friend (an electrical engineer) to San Francisco, CA.  This was a combination perk / educational trip funded via the lighting rep.  As an architect / specifier, I'd been on numerous trips like this one, though with neither of these two.  

The night before we were slated to leave (to return to Jackson Metro, MS), the three of us went out for an early dinner.  It was a beautiful California evening.  In spite of this, it seemed to quickly morph into an awkward meal due to me being a teetotaler / uninterested in sports, etc.  As such, the dialogue eventually waned before turning stale.  It didn't help matters that we'd been together for +/-3 days straight (this was before the smartphone revolution) there in that idyllic California city.  

As we eventually made our way back to the hotel for an early-to-bed closure to the evening / trip, I could sense more and more strain between myself and these two besties.  

Why?

They both desperately wanted to conclude our trip via a redlight district, guys-night-out finale, yet they didn't feel at all confident confiding in weirdo Rob regarding. 

Now, this was never voiced by either (married) man, but it was apparent (I'd known both of these work colleagues for many years).  For they were red-blooded, hetero-masculine males (who were far from home).  Plus, the night was young.

I found myself between a relational rock and a hard place.  Was I behaving like a true friend / being true to myself or simply a redneck fuddy duddy? 

Ultimately, it wasn't the thought of me being surrounded by naked women (strip clubs) that was off putting.  Not at all.  It was me being present, within said strip clubs, with my two, dear hetero-masculine Mississippi friends and having to computationally endure their reactions therein sans my brain exploding.  The thought of having to endure that is what turned my stomach.  

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Mid-week last week was when the aforementioned eavesdropping occurred.  One of the two (male) gym-goers who was involved in the exchange was very familiar to me, and, just so you know, both had been mulling around the gym floor for a morning class to soon start.

What was said when they spotted Gina checking in at the front desk wasn't at all hetero-masculine unusual.  The men both agreed wholeheartedly (with sly grins on their faces) at the declarative statement, immediately upon its release.  Even I, as the overhearer, found it not at all out-of-line with my limited understanding of hetero-masculine reality.  

Nonetheless, I'm still unable to process it completely.  For seeing that car simply go from roadgoing to airborne continues to befuddle me.  What the fuck just happened?

It's shocking to me how much I exist within my own reality.  We all do really.  Isn't that unnerving?

I'm hoping to lean on a dear (hetero-masculine, non-Samson) friend, later on this week, for assistance in understanding where I should go from here.  

Ultimately, what naturally went down relative to this beautiful female's presence last week, there at the local Y, offered me a glimpse of something I'm so not familiar with.    

I'm truly at a loss at this point.  And, at the same time, so very grateful.  For I want to understand that which doesn't come instinctual for Rob.  

Why?

I have a deep respect for normalcy and hetero-masculine men in general.  Thanks be to God that planet Earth isn't populated solely by Robs (it would be far less interesting).

A Man's Greatest Aphrodisiac Is His Perceived Ability To Provide A Woman With Security. Enter Prince Coitus.

During my high school days ('88-'90), there was a late-weeknight call-in "sex talk" show that was broadcast on cable television.  Mind you, this show wasn't available via premium channel, and it was not filmed in front of a live audience.  Instead, it was perhaps on some fledgling network in a fairly nondescript studio (similar to Larry King Live!).  Very rarely would I be up late enough (11 PM CST) to chance upon it (too the male host was incredibly obnoxious), but one night I do recall paying it heed due to there being a very handsome young man on set as an "in-studio guest".  

What intrigued me most about this particular broadcast was how this handsome bachelor proceeded to coolly articulate his rationale behind his (& other men's) nonchalant approach to promiscuity.  From there, he took it a step further and explained his thinking regarding how his female lovers choose to perceive him as a playa.

And this guy may have been prostituting himself to women.  I honestly can't remember.

Nonetheless, as a 17-18-year-old teenager, this served as an excellent lesson regarding cheap, hetero, sexual relationships.  As such, it truly has stood the test of time as I've lived out my life.

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The cul-de-sac we've lived on for 23 years is home to ten other "garden (small) homes".  Six of the overall eleven are 3-bedroom while the remainder are 2-bedroom.  There're three (not Medicare-age) singles living within these single-family homes, two of which are "relationally active".  

What I mean by that is both have significant others that visit often, and it's not unusual for them to stay overnight, even for weeks at a time.  

One of these two "relationally active" homeowners is female and other male.  Both have children, some of which pay a visit on occasion while others seemingly come and go at will.  

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Prince Charming is how the young, handsome in-studio guest (late-night '80s sex talk call-in show) described his harem of female lovers imagining him to be as they chose to participate in relationally non-committal intercourse.  

As we know from the fairy tale, Prince Charming was Snow White's savior.  He restored her health, having come for her during her time of "eternal sleep".  Therein, going forward, it's implied that his presence radically transforms her existence which leads to abundance, joy, and eternal happiness.  It's a fate that's fit for a Disney film, and it is deeply ingrained within the psyche of our culture.

The young, handsome in-studio guest went on to describe how he could sense this mirage each and every time he'd achieve participating within consensual intercourse, based on the woman's receptiveness towards him.  He did, in fact, acknowledge his physical attractiveness (which perfectly played into her fantasies), but made it clear that each of the women he'd engaged with sexually were unwilling to spread their legs out of a raw desire to fuck (which was his MO).  Instead, they were perpetuating a romantic fantasy throughout coitus that was hinged on safety, stability, and hopefulness (that he'd surely bring abundance, joy and eternal happiness).

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Our home is positioned at the entrance point of our cul-de-sac.  As such, we have more frontage than any of the other ten homes, by far.  Therefore, me being in and out a fair amount, I can't help but see who's coming and going at all hours of the day and night.  Loverboys (& girls) make their way to our neighbors' abodes regularly, all the while never acknowledging Rob as they do so.  I find myself, at times, attempting to make eye contact when they pass but to no avail.  Me thinks this is the case due to fact that I'm no doubt a REAL, LIVE HUSBAND.

Men absolutely crave wet pussy.  As much as they can get and as often as they can get it.  Women want security.  Even if it's fantastical security.  And they'll (oftentimes begrudgingly) jettison their chaste in order to compromisingly receive it. 

What's fascinating to me is the power of the fantasy.  Females are taught, from an early age, to firmly believe in Prince Charming in tandem with what romantic love looks like.  

My question is, when do they become more involved with the fantasy, thereby removing their better judgement relative to reality?  In other words, knowing that they'd be better off, for all parties involved, to steer clear of perpetuating yet another sexual relationship, why do they allow themselves to not see men's intentions clearly (zero long-term commitment / artificial security)?  

Fantasy, within women's minds is amazingly affective.  I have to wonder if intercourse (resulting in orgasmic pleasure) doesn't further concretize the illusion as the brain releases hormones in line with the sex act itself.

Prince Coitus?     

Refrain From Reverse Engineering (Then Overthinking) The "Attachment Theory"

I believe the "Attachment Theory" holds a lot of merit for guys in active recovery, but when parents of small children attempt to reverse engineer it, we've found that they tend to overthink / way overreach it.  From there, they may very well do more harm to their children (& marriage / family) than good.

For example, let's say you didn't / weren't allowed to properly attach (emotionally) to a parent(s) as a small child.  Hence, this, no doubt, will impact your emotional health as an adult / (potential parent).  From there, let's say you marry and choose to have children of your own.  And you're privy to the "attachment theory", having studied it extensively.  Therefore, you choose to overcompensate (hyper-attach?) whilst rearing your own child(ren) as a result.

We've seen parents do this by giving their children free reign.  Very few constraints.  Very few boundaries.  And this can result in children becoming elevated / entitled pretty quickly.  To the point that they're the ones ruling the roost.  

It's a weird scenario, and I'm convinced most children who're within the throes of it do realize that it is back-assward (relative to their peers). 

For as you know, children are brilliant.  Somewhat powerless, for sure, but certainly brilliant.

My advice to you, Samson brother, is to ONLY delve into this theoretical work from the standpoint of understanding your adult self (who's in active recovery).  From there, I would argue that your recovering / recovered self (as a parent) will do a far better job rearing your own children by default (on autopilot).  In essence, trust your recovering self to not make the same mistake(s) as Mom and Dad did.

Is Lusting After (Social Media) Imagery Generated Via Artificial Intelligence Sin? Remember These Aren't Real Women. They Have No Parents & Cannot Be Your Neighbors. They Only Exist Via A Screen As A Result Of Soulless Software.

"Momma's Been Married Five Times."

A few weekends back, I had lunch with a friend from church as an embarrassingly tardy follow-up.  He's one of those (surprisingly cool) middle-aged men who's a contrarian (taking his own upbringing into consideration) relative to his marriage / rearing of his own children.

When he and I dined together initially (pre-pandemic - 2019? - I honestly can't recall exactly), I vaguely remember him chatting a fair amount about his devout Christian mother.  He likely mentioned (the embarrassing truth) her marital track record then, but it must have blown past Rob without registering.  More than likely, I simply had forgotten about this curiosity.  Or perhaps, I felt a pity overflow (for him), and therefore simply refused to allow it to stick.  Considering this latter assumption, I cannot underestimate the fact that today, he presents himself as a really nice guy who simply found himself (as a boy) within the line of fire as a result of his mother's issues.

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I have a deceased uncle whose second wife (& mother to three of my cousins) is now married to husband #6 or maybe #7.  She's - at present - essentially estranged from some (if not all) of her three children due to this chronic romantic recklessness.  

Back in the early '80s, she was repeatedly unfaithful (with her eventual second husband) to my uncle which subsequently resulted in their divorce.  

There's a story that I've heard my father (& another deceased uncle - my dad's younger brother) reminisce about relative to some of her infidelity hijinks during this time.  It has to do with the two of them accompanying their brother (her then husband) on an "adultery stakeout" in small town Mississippi.  The punchline zeroed in on her large breasts stalling her from escaping out of her lover's bathroom window (supposedly topless) in reaction to her husband (my suspecting uncle) banging on the front door.  

I recall the first time (+/-15 years ago) I heard my dad and his younger brother awkwardly retell this heartbreaking tale.  For everyone knew that it was her husband's punitive - after the fact - physical reaction (he assaulted her) that gave her clear legal credence to ultimately file for divorce (& gain custody of my cousins).  From there, their beautiful three boys were gone forever.

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I never really thought about / considered women being compulsive sex consumers until I became involved in Samson Society.

Years ago, a former parishioner at Lakeside Pres was referred to me (as the then facilitator of the Lakeside Pres Samson Society group).  He and I had dined casually once prior, but circumstances being what they were now, our second sit-down was not at all as jovial as the first.  As a result, he agreed to attend his first (& only) Saturday morning meeting.

The first statement out of his mouth was (during share time):  "My wife is a sex addict.  That's why I'm here."

That's the one and only time I've ever heard a guy make that statement within all the hundreds and hundreds of Samson meetings I've attended since August of 2014.  

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I've known of a few older Samson guys who've married much younger (& understandably hornier) women.  Youth = vitality (particularly as it relates to libido).

But that's not what I'm attempting to address here.  This has more to do with women who've allowed sex to become perpetually disproportioned relative to its influence / relevance within a romantic relationship.  And what makes this so weird to wrap one's brain around has to do with how the majority of women approach sex overall.

Sexual activity for a woman is 99% of the time rooted in the notion of security.  Even if it's an illusion or fantasy.  

Women participate in intercourse believing for those few minutes that their lover is their "knight in shining armor".  It's a powerfully securing experience for them that promulgates feminine orgasm.  Anatomically, with men "going into" women with their penises, the act itself demonstrates this consensual act.  Otherwise, it's rape / assault.

As such, sex for women is never cheap because their heart (either literally or fantastically) is involved each and every time it occurs.

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But there are those women - no doubt - who're moreso like (some) men regarding sexual perspective.  Hence, it has become a methodology or technique to control / use / abuse, and as such, they themselves see no need for being "protected" / "heart connected" by / to their lover.  Instead, it's simply a pleasurable experience that satiates their horniness for such a time as that.  And this drives them onward, brandishing their seductiveness to whomever they wish to use within their orbit.

To me, this is an ugly description, but especially so if it happens to be your momma.  Yuck.

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In closing, when I worked at Delta State University in 2013, I had the good fortune of befriending one of my employees - to the degree that I circumstantially (conflict of interest) could.  He was an absolutely beautiful (physically & emotionally) pagan man with such a sweet spirit.  I was so fortunate to know him for those fast-moving twelve months.

What truly drew us together was him choosing to (reluctantly) answer my questions about his upbringing there in the Mississippi Delta.  And part of that commentary inevitably centered on his mother.  

This man had no issue labeling her a "whore".  This was shocking to hear, but nevertheless, he described how pervasive her routine was at bedding men throughout the impoverished region during his growing up years.  

I imagine, taking his physical appearance into consideration, that she likely had been equally as attractive in her own right.

After Rob was fired from that institution in September of 2013, Angie and I did share one last meal with my work friend and his wife.  Afterwards, he and I sat out on his patio, and I awkwardly shared my story (to the best of my ability at the time).  

From there, we quickly lost touch as our family returned to the Jackson Metro.

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The Bible addresses the women I'm attempting to describe here.  One of the most famous is actually within the lineage (bloodline) of Jesus (she was a prostitute).  

I know so little about what promulgates women like this, yet I've seen firsthand the tremendous suffering / shame their own sexual brokenness can cause.  It brings me pause, furthering my respect for men who carry this matriarchal legacy with them - day after day.

Should I Take (Advantage Of) This Trip?

Chemistry.  You've heard that word before, and no doubt you've experienced it for yourself.  That's the best word I know to describe sexual tension / attraction between two people.  

I vividly remember facilitating a project meeting (during Rob's architecture career) at a Mississippi university 10+ years ago.  There were 6-8 of us in the conference room of the Physical Plan, and partway through the meeting, a lovely young lady was invited in.  She was a campus museum curator, and now in attendance because the university-owned museum (that she oversaw) would be impacted by said construction project in the near future.  Therefore, we felt compelled to include her early on within the planning stages in order minimize disruption for her department.  

I immediately took note of the chemistry between her and one of the young engineers in the room.  It was easy to spot as they dialogued regarding scheduling / logistical coordination pertaining to the project scope.  Looking back, I've often wondered if they ever followed up with each other after the fact.  

Body language, pupils, facial expressions are dead giveaways to chemistry.

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My oldest daughter has a pronounced impact on certain men.  Even when she was in early high school and still wearing braces, I'd witness younger men react "chemistrially" to her presence.  Because she was a minor (& I was present), you could clearly see their discomfort as they wrestled with the situation, they now found themselves within.  

An old Samson friend used to react the same way around her (he hasn't seen her for many years).  Even with his own wife / children present.  It was always amusing to me due to the fact that I knew his porn diet consisted solely of "Barely Legal / Girls Next Door" models.

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On the opposite end of the spectrum is chemistry between younger men and older women.  

Here's another memory:  my second (sophomore year) potluck college roommate once bragged about having a sexual relationship with one of his friend's moms.  This guy looked far older than he was, primarily due to his hugely muscular build.  That, combined with his overall machismo, lead me to not question his track record in spite of how uncomfortable it made me whilst ruminating on.

Similarly, I have friends now within Samson Society who've admitted to bedding older women, many of which were married (at the time) and mothers.

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I serve as a board member of a local (community) volunteer organization.  I ended up therein by providence, having run-into the org's tenured director (she resides within a neighboring community) one Sunday morning whilst out running (exercising).

As I came to know the director better, I began to see how much I admired her commitment to this org and subsequently to the community she and I both have been longstanding members of (which the org directly serves).  This woman is highly intelligent / driven / passionate.  As such, she talks incessantly about whatever's on the forefront of her prefrontal cortex (which is A LOT).  

It didn't take me long to sense the chemistry between us (much moreso on her end than mine).

I've been serving as a board member for most of '22, and though she and I haven't worked directly on any projects throughout this calendar year, she's beginning to propose that we do (in '23).  

Know too that this wonderful lady is retired and serving as her (almost entirely homebound) husband's full-time caregiver.  They've had a long, successful marriage, but unfortunately at the present, his health is failing rapidly.  She, on the opposite end of the spectrum, is as vibrant and youthful as ever.  

So, I know what you're thinking.  What does she look like?

She's pretty hot for a grandmother.  In fact, she's the hottest grandmother, by far, that I've seen in some time (other than my mom who obviously CANNOT / WILL NOT count).

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During our last board meeting (a few weeks back), an out-of-state regional retreat was discussed.  It quickly became apparent that it was a retreat (hosted within the larger eco-system of the org itself) that someone needed to attend from our board.  I spoke up to represent our group, and soon thereafter duly coordinated my '23 calendar accordingly to accommodate the two-day excursion.  The aforementioned director regretted not being able to attend (ailing husband).  As such, my commitment to do so was warmly received by everyone in attendance.  

Yesterday, (12/15) I received an email from our director stating that she'd like to attend too.

?!?

[I couldn't help but be reminded of my mother's adulterous trysts with her boss 40 years ago (I was 10 years-old at the time) during out-of-town trips to the Mississippi Gulf Coast.]

The director went on to say that her husband "used to" accompany her on trips like these.

?!?

I replied to her email with the following:  "I only agreed to attend the regional conference in your absence, therefore once you make a final decision on attending, if you're unable to go, I'll gladly sign up to represent [the org] during that event.  I have coordinated my work schedule accordingly, therefore I'm on standby to sign-up.  There's no need to expend [our org's] resources for two reps to attend."  

Thanks mom (for the memories)!

For Tenured Samson Guys, Church Can Seem Awfully Saccharine

Being reared in a megachurch (First Baptist Church Jackson) with the pedigree of a Huckleberry Finn, I simply stood back in awe of the spectacle, masses and outstanding preaching.  As a teen, I was there during the late '80s when Dr. Frank Pollard (Senior Pastor) was in his prime (during his second appointment there).  We attended both Sunday mornings and evenings, giving nary a second thought to driving all the way from humble (back then) Madison to downtown Jackson twice (+/25 minute car ride) on The Lord's Day.

Church provided teen Rob (only child) with so many good opportunities to be cared for by adults who weren't Bob and Darlene.  Therein, I was lassoed in by the gospel at the tender age of 13.  In many ways it was religiously idyllic.  Especially considering the setting being Mississippi.

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Today, Samson Society provides the caring adults who support Rob, done so at a level (appropriately so) that's far more nuanced and intentional.  

So where does that leave church?

Church, to me, is like going to the Y for a workout or down the Reservoir multi-purpose trail for a run.  It's time well spent, but mostly, it's routine more than anything else.  

Now, we tithe our 10% every month, and I sing in the Chancel Choir for both the Christmas and Easter cantatas, and I will keep doing that.  

But, I don't work hard to make close Presbyterian friends, participate in either the domestic or overseas mission projects or aspire to become a deacon / elder at Lakeside Presbyterian Church.  

Hence, some Sundays can be monotonous and thereby fatiguing.  

But, there is one regularly scheduled church programming event (Fall / Spring) exception to this.

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One of the things I really like about our little community church is Wednesday nights.  And not just due to the food line ("Family Night Supper").  

When I was in late elementary school, Bob & Darlene would bring me to megachurch (First Baptist Church Jackson) for Wednesday evening service, and though the food was great, everything else about it sucked.  

Primarily this had to do with the facilities, which were vast, but on Wednesday evenings, the attendance numbers were miniscule compared to Sunday mornings.  Hence, the megachurch building felt daunting and frozen due to its emptiness.  

As such, their formality was amplified that much more.  

After that singular year (1985?), we discontinued attending Wednesday megachurch services because none of us liked it one bit. 

Fast forward to today, and there's no doubt that Lakeside Pres' facilities are on the opposite end of the spectrum.  They're not even, by definition, modest.  Haphazard is the best descriptor I can think of.  Yet, in so many ways, it's a perfect reflection of the community it serves, and this is due to the fact that the Reservoir area is such the Hodge Podge free-for-all / redneck resort paradise of the Jackson Metro.  

Today, Wednesday nights at Lakeside Pres are typically jammed packed with middle to upper middle-class Presbyterians, easily stretching the seams of the '70ish facilities.  It's borderline raucous.  And I like that about it because it doesn't - in the slightest - reek of church.  Plus, there are even a few occasions where Bible studies are enacted, following dinner, that are well worth the weekday evening invested. 

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My wife, Angie, isn't involved in The Sarah Society (a women's equivalent to Samson Society), therefore her relationships at Lakeside Pres are (aspiringly) tantamount to the ones I enjoy via Samson.  Therefore, on Sunday mornings, she lingers far longer than I do - after the service - to chat meaningfully with her friends.  Angie's also far more likely to interject prayer requests during Sunday School, and she frequently attends a ladies' breakfast gathering amongst her middle-aged (& a few older) peers.

Angie loves Lakeside Pres.  In fact, were she forced to choose between it and her husband, I'm pretty sure she'd choose Lakeside Pres.  

And that makes me really happy because I believe church today is mostly geared towards women and meeting their spiritual needs.  In conclusion, finding one where my wife feels communal makes me one quite content Samson guy.     

"Will You Be My BFF If I Suck Your Dick / Sodomize You?"

The Internet - URLs, apps for pocket computers - gives us exceptionally easy opportunity to splinter into tribes.  And these tribes can be built around all manner of mutually agreed upon tropes, but in the end, their purpose is to provide men with relational respect and women with relational security.  Those are the baseline needs being carried out therein.

When apps for smartphones, in particular, came on the scene, the most popular ones skyrocketed to the top relative to "tribalism indoctrination" efficiency.  Hence, hookup apps made the top ten list almost overnight.

All in all, the keyword here is efficiency.  This is why / how software programmers made oodles of $$$ so quickly (selling subscriptions / ads to support their hookup apps' services).

Garnering a friendship takes a boatload of time / effort, and there's absolutely zero guarantee relative to a return on your time / effort (emotional investment).  Hence, most adults are wary to even make the effort.  But, hookup apps changed all of that (for many, many consumers).

And here's how I came to understand that whilst also managing to come to terms with just how baseline depraved, we truly are as a people.

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Mr. Nate Larkin is the founder / spokesperson for the Samson Society.  As such, he's often on the road, taking his testimony / outlook regarding our community to those who've never heard.  As far as I know, he mostly speaks to churches, asking them for an audience over a period of two consecutive days.  Oftentimes, that second day is where he'll organize some "trial run" Samson meetings in the church basement with said parishioners.

I received an email from Nate many years ago about a man who'd approached him after his stock church speech.  Nate has known of my sexuality for some time, and he wanted to know if he might triangulate me with this man due to what he revealed to him there at the front of the alter.  I had no problem with that.  Hence, I waited for my new friend's communique, but received not a peep.  Finally, I pinged Nate regarding the silence, and from there, Nate's follow-up served to open the spigot.

Whilst looking back, I can tell you that this man was angry.  Angrier than any man I've ever had the privilege to know.  Much of that anger was laser focused towards the opposition (political).  He constantly devoured political rhetoric, allowing it to stoke the flames of his rage.  As such, this anger was what fueled his life.

This man was very intelligent and extremely motivated.  He was a successful business owner and bodybuilder.  Plus, he owned / singlehandedly managed real estate in multiple states.  Physically, he had such the stature compared to his diminutive wife.  That coupled with his million-watt smile did wonders to attract suitor after suitor on - of all things - Grindr.  

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His response to me as to why he'd hooked up with close to (100) men anonymously (over a period of +/-10 years) came down to his desire to foster friendships.  Plain & simple.  Friendships that were reliable as this man traveled (for work) to repeat destinations.  In his words, he was seeking friendship that was built on shared interests, and for him, those consisted of drinking, watching sports and - on occasion - having gay sex.

No doubt, all of these suitors (& potential friends) were drawn to my new friend's Grindr profile due to his impressive physique / handsome mug.  Again, plain & simple.  It was the "bait" - so to speak - that he hoped would serve to initiate a longstanding, reliable friendship(s).

But it didn't work.  And though he knew the sex was sin, he couldn't understand why his long-game approach didn't reap the results he'd longed for.

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If you're anything like me, all of this seems preposterous.  But this is our reality ever since these malevolent apps came on the scene.  And this is happening every day.  Sex has become so cheap that we truly have become like dogs in heat (glued to our pocket computers like a dog licks his butthole).

One last note regarding my friend.  As you can imagine, throughout this promiscuous season, he constantly lived in fear of becoming HIV positive, therefore he was vigilant about being tested for the virus.  At the same time, he was no doubt putting his naive wife at risk too each time they had intercourse.  But he had no issue with that.  Them "friendships" took precedent.

In the end, he essentially saw this period of his life as a relational side hustle that he deeply regretted involving himself in.  As stated, it grew out of his need for connection, but it was the perceived efficiency that promised him an understandable, by-the-book plan for success.  An efficiency which was hinged on his ability to exploit newfound tech to his advantage which resulted in him forlornly "cutting the crap" in an attempt to expedite connections he could rely on.  

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Generosity is the key to winning friends.  Plus, since generosity is ultimately Christ-serving, even if you're unsuccessful in the platonic realm, your obedience (to Christ) stands.

Here's a favorite definition of generosity:  largeness or fullness; amplitude

I love that word amplitude.  It implies casting a wide net.  Spreading generosity liberally on ALL FREQUENCIES.  

I love seeing wonderful films in theaters with exceptionally capable sound systems.  I've even had the good fortune of seeing one film in a Dolby Atmos theater.  There's something amazing about hearing everything on all frequencies (8 to 64 channels!), all around you, as you're watching the lovely big screen.  

Last night, we had a young couple and their baby (who're three members of Lakeside Pres) over for dinner.  It was a lovely time, but especially so from the standpoint of how intentionally the young man took an interest in our (my) garden.  He and I spent a better part of twenty minutes out there, throughout the evening, dialoguing about its origin, various species of native plants, etc.  With he and I both coming from Mississippi country "stock", there was an immediate shared appreciation for our pedigreed green thumbs, and what joy they have / could bring to us and our clan.

Early this morning (insomnia), I looked back into iMessage on my pocket computer and was surprised to find that it was almost exactly three years ago that this young man and I had our one-and-only lunch together.    

A day or so prior to that 2019 rendezvous, I'd emailed him my testimony (warts & all).  As a result, the lunch itself was awkward.  I could tell that he'd not at all appreciated by candor relative to my story.  And this was because he had mistakenly assumed I was fit to become a potential "mentor" (his words) of his (they had recently joined Lakeside Pres).  Instead, he was now faced with a pervert queer guy who'd felt the need to tangentially overshare to the nth degree.  And this disappointed him tremendously.  For what benefit was a pervert queer guy who's into oversharing to this young fellow?

It was this young man's wife who'd introduced herself to Angie (+/-3-5) months ago at church (some sort of women's function).  Soon thereafter, Angie asked me about this young lady's husband, vaguely remembering my rendezvous from 2019.  I updated her sincerely, and not surprisingly, she walked away with a familiar grin.

Eventually, the aforementioned dinner party from last night was calendared and rescheduled.  And now, here we are.  The.  Day.  After.

Interestingly enough, the young man has even text messaged me today, thanking me for sharing some zinnia seeds (which he planted upon their return home yesterday evening).

I can tell you with no hesitancy that the three years since he and I first came together has given him time to come to terms with my transparency.  And that relational incubation period - if you will - was no doubt put to good use by God's spirit.  For the young man I shared the evening with last night was far more mature than the one I engaged with three years prior.  

And that makes my willingness to be generous with myself worth it all the more.  For this dude now understands fully how both important it is to me and how it actually can be that we co-exist on the same platonic plane as broken, imperfect men.  

And thankfully, there's no blow jobs or buttfucking called for.        

Be generous.  Expect nothing in return.  Be patient and mindful of your Christian witness.  Have faith that God will return to you - exponentially - what you've been willing to give indiscriminately and altruistically.  From there, sit back and remain hopeful.