>I don't often feel sorry for men, but I did reading this:
>
>http://www.nytimes.com/2003/12/14/fashion/14CIAL.html
Reminds me of a song I first heard about 20 years ago, called "The IPD", sung by a radical Hobart band called "The Ovarian Sisters". The song is about a fictional contraceptive device for men, the chorus gives a taste:
The IPD, the IPD.
It may not feel too good for you,
but its not hurting me.
So every time the pain starts,
to fill your eyes with tears,
Remember I put up with it for years.
The verse you're subject line reminded me of goes like this:
Now you know that some people
are never satisfied.
So scientists are working
once again, once again.
They've got something even better,
than that good old IPD
It called the contraceptive pill for men.
Its the pill that's better than the IPD.
It may not be too safe,
but we'll just have to wait and see.
So put away your worries,
put away your fears,
and remember I put up with it for years.
The Ovarian Sisters caused considerable angst in Hobart establishment back then, singing their songs in the central business district. They were prosecuted for breaching the peace for singing political songs in the Mall. One of their songs tells the story of the campaign:
Hey Mr policeman,
why'd you take my name?
I'm not the one who's in the wrong,
the Council is to blame.
Look at any city,
at its colour and its life.
You'll see that buskers add to that,
in Hobart you're in strife.
The Council says we're dirty,
sing songs with dirty words.
Their plan for entertainment,
is to use a clockword bird.
Hey Mr policeman,
why'd you take my name?
I'm not the one who's in the wrong,
the Council is to blame.
The red light spins and flashes,
The specials get you in.
They play 'Up There Cazaly',
hear the cash-box sing.
Seems if you've got money,
and a shop along the Mall,
the Council let's you break the peace.
The Kookaburra call.
[...]
The Ovarian Sisters Album, "Beat Your Breasts" is one of the two or three records I've bought and paid for in my entire life. If anyone's interested I could e-mail them an MP3 of "The IPD".
Anyhow, the story seems a bit weird to me. In my experience, healthy men have little trouble getting it up for a new lover. Keeping the damn thing down long enough for some blood to get to the brain is more of a problem. OTOH I've never met a woman impudent enough to insist she judges a man solely on sexual performance, either. (Most women seem a damn sight more complicated to satisfy.) Frankly, I thought it was only men who were that shallow. I have to admit though, that woman is very lucky, finding a 'perfect match' will be very easy for her. Unless she was actually trying to put the poor nervous fellow at his ease?
But why would the fellow get all nervous about it? In the unlikely instance that he doesn't rise to the occasion, surely he would be entitled to hoist her on her own petard so to speak. By declaring that he judges women by their ability to arouse him (the easiest job a woman will usually ever have to do) and declaring that, unfortunately, she doesn't seem to be up to the task.
What's good for the goose is good for the gander, after all.
Bill Bartlett Bracknell Tas