Ball of Confusion=Planet Earth

Recently I was having a spirited discussion via e-mail with my sons and my husband, about the problems with the economy, and by extension, the world. One son said that it seemed to him that we all forget that all around us are confused people who don't know how to solve any of our problems...some seek answers in religion, but that's wrong because religion should be a quest, not an answer. Seeking to know God is the purpose of life, but there are no easy answers, and each answer is individual. Some seek answers from the government, but that is made up of people just as confused as the rest of us. Some seek answers in alcohol or drugs, in gambling, in just about anything that can be done to addiction-rates, because those provide what appear to be easy answers, or at least a temporary relief from the pain of asking questions. Some zealously hold onto all of their money because they don't know any other way to live, and the idea of giving some of it to help others, either via donations or enforced taxes, scares them too much. We are all scared and anxious and no one has the answers. We are living on a "Ball of Confusion".



Remember that song by the Temptations from 1970? Google it and there is an excellent u-tube video with images from our current time, shown along with the song being sung by the original Temptations. Remember these lyrics?



"Segregation, determination, demonstration,

Integration, aggravation,

Humiliation, obligation to our nation.

Ball of Confusion.

That's what the world is today." (Copyright 1970, Jobete Music Company, Inc.)



The words could have been written today. Yet each of us has no choice but to continue living our life as if these problems weren't so insurmountable. The rich/poor dichotomy has been with us since the first caveman had more meat to eat than the other one...one might have tried to kill the other for it, and you can bet there was a woman who was willing to sleep with the winner. The beginnings of romance?



We each try to find our own answers and hope fervently that we won't be judged too harshly in the afterlife for anything we might do wrong. Along the way we seek to find love, because to feel love and be loved is the only real security we can have. And love is available to even the least among us, as it is to those who have the most.



What was it the Beatles sang? "All You Need Is Love." More words as true today as the day they were written. And as authors, we seek solace in doing what John Lennon asked us to do: "Imagine".



In my latest book, I once again have an inter-racial romance. I guess I'm an eternal optimist, thinking that somehow if we can just remember that we are all humans, then color/race/nationality/religion will take a backseat to our essential shared humanity. The heroine is what euphemistically would be called "a free spirit", meaning that in college, she enjoyed the selection of eligible men so much that she joked she was trying to get the college to let her minor in sex! The hero is on a hardship scholarship that only gives him one chance to escape the ghetto he was born into, and he is determined not to waste it. A chance meeting brings them together, leading to a night of passion, which becomes a weekly affair. Just when they both acknowledge what they mean to each other, they graduate and she moves to another state. Years later, in the middle of a divorce, he decides he needs to find her again, to see if they can rekindle what they had in college.



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So which season gets you more in the mood for romance?

Is it fall, with thoughts of back-to-school making you think of the new kids you would meet each year, inevitably falling in love with someone "over your pay grade", who wouldn't even notice you? Crunching through the leaves, enjoying the changing weather, feeling the chill in the air, making you think of hot chocolate and warm fuzzy sweaters?


Or is it winter, with all of those opportunities for snuggling against the cold? The drinks/food/camaraderie of holiday occasions? Ice-skating, sledding, snowball fights, then coming in with cherry-red noses, warming yourself by the crackling fire? Afghans wrapping around you and that special someone, to enhance the warmth generated by your mutual body-heat, which raises the closer you press your bodies together.

How about spring, with the excitement of the changing of the season, from one that makes you want to stay indoors all of the time, to one that makes you want to be outside feeling the warm sunshine on your face? Rebirth is an important theme in spring, and new loves are a perfect accompaniment to dodging raindrops in April, and walking through fields of flowers in May.

Then there is summer...which I have to admit, used to be the season I liked the least. But I got married in late June, on a hot, humid day, with thunderstorms threatening our outdoor dining arrangements, making the tent all but collapse a few times. Since then I have learned to love the sound of thunderstorms and enjoy the feeling of anticipation when the air is heavy with moisture and you can smell the rain before it starts. There's nothing like the sound of raindrops on a camper roof, lulling you to sleep with the knowledge that you are comfortable and dry. And while we are at it, when it's too hot to sleep, there's always that other fun bedroom activity you can do! You are already sweating anyway, so why not enjoy the lack of flannel pajamas and raise your body temperature so much that once you are done you will feel all cooled off?

Here's to summer romance, the kind that makes you remember hot, sweaty, sticky nights, along with the pleasure of resting in each others' arms afterwards.





In my latest book, Two For Tuesday, Marcus is reminiscing about back in college when he and Melanie were f**k buddies who gradually fell in love. What started out as a one-day-a-week-fling for them has become important enough to him for him to start an argument with her over her still seeing other men. Afterwards they made up with explosive sex until her roommate came home and threw them out of the apartment. They retired to his dorm room where he convinced his roommate to spend the night in the commons area, so they could have more sweaty, screaming sex.

Since Marcus didn't have anything to drink in his room, he snuck out into the hallway to fill a water bottle, then returned to find Melanie had stretched out on the bottom bunk, which he had told her was his bed. He joined her and despite it being a tight squeeze, they settled comfortably into each others' arms.
“I'm not sure if I can sleep like this all night, though,” Melanie said after a while during which they'd run their hands over each other possessively. “I'll get a crick in my neck from having it bent up to rest on your shoulder.”

They separated then, lying side-by-side on the small, twin bed. They lay in silence for a while before Marcus spoke softly. “Melanie? Are you asleep?”

“Almost. Why?”

“Did you really sleep with a professor and both of his sons?”

There was a snort of laughter. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”

“I…I guess not. Forget it.”

Melanie turned to lean on his chest. “Marcus, look at me.”

He could barely make out her face in the moonlight streaming in through the window.

“It was the second semester of my first year here. I was sowing a whole lotta wild oats, what with feeling free of the restraints of living in my parents' house, and being able to stay out all night if I wanted to. I hadn't met you yet. It was years ago. There's no reason for you to be jealous of something that happened before I met you.”

Marcus pulled her face down to kiss her possessively. “I know that. I also know that there's a whole lot of men I could be jealous of, but hunting them down one-by-one wouldn't change anything. It's just that I love you so much. I want you to belong only to me.”

Melanie smiled so broadly with her face against his chest, that Marcus felt her dimples deepen.

“Well, I do now, mister. So you'd better be eating your Wheaties to keep your strength up. You're gonna have to work really hard to keep me happy, since I've never been able to get everything I want from just one man.”

Marcus sighed.

“Marcus?”

“What?”

“Think you're up for it?”

“Again? Now?”

“No, silly man. I mean, for the long term?”

“I'll give it my best shot.”

Melanie nodded, smiling again. “Good-night, lover.”

Marcus was the one to smile now. “Good-night, honey.”

He smiled even more broadly when she slapped him gently on the arm. Then she snuggled back into his side, and soon they were both asleep.


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