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24th Wedding Anniversary

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Editor’s Note — I wrote this editorial on my Wedding Anniversary for my wife. I had problems logging into my Word Press blog accounts on that day. Thus, the editorial stayed on my hard drive until I could get logged into publish the article.
Word Press seems to have updated their publish system, since my last editorial, so the format of this editorial may look different than previous posts.
Samuel E. Warren Jr.

24th Wedding Anniversary

Today, Sunday, July 20, 2014, Christy Warren, my wife, celebrates her 24th Wedding Anniversary. Wait, a minute. . .my wife ? Holy Cow ! That means I’ve been married 24 years today also.

I need a minute.

Okay. The shock has passed.

I am surprised I am celebrating 24 years of marriage. I was a single man. I liked being a single man.
My first marriage was “Made In Hell.” Actually, I made the Supreme Mistake of walking down the alise of the neo-Gothic cathedral of The School Of The Ozarks at Point Lookout, Missouri, back in the late ’70s.

I made it a point to ‘Forget’ that so-called “Wedding Day.”

The Lesson Of My First Marriage was simple: I will Never, Ever get married again. Two-and-a-half miserable years of being “Locked” into “Holy Wedlock”, is the reason Why I Don’t Fear Hell. I spent everyday in Hell for two-and-a-half, long, miserable years. I dreaded sunrise each day.

Once my divorce was granted, I made myself “The Promise.”

The Promise was simple: “Never Again.”

At age 24, I won back my “Freedom.”

I never had any intention of ever getting married again.

I was “Free !” I was single, again.” I had a good job in the United States Air Force. Thanks to Uncle Sam, I do my job, salute smartly and I could travel the world. I did.

Again, I was a Single American. I was fortunately to be a Single American G.I. I loved my job in Public Affairs because I got to live my fantasy as “The Reporter.”

I lived to write. My mentor Master Sergeant took the time to really “Teach” me how to use a camera to take news photographs for the newspaper. I worked at it and became a photojournalist. I wrote the stories and shot the photos, which ended up in print in a base newspaper. My Life was complete. I was Whole. I was Happy.

The day came when Uncle Sam handed me a set of orders for duty in the Pacific. Hallelujah !

The Ozarks country boy ends up at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa. I had heard my father’s stories about World War II in the Pacific. I had heard other veterans War stories about duty in the Pacific. I did some interviews and published some of those stories. When Uncle Sam gave me the orders, I had my camera bag packed before my duffel bag and I was ready to catch the aircraft on the runway.

While stationed on Okinawa, I noticed and met some of the Most Beautiful Women On Planet Earth.

I met Koreans and Filipinas. I got a temporary duty assignment to the Kingdom Of Thailand, so I met beautiful Thais, Cambodian and Laotian women.

I was in my 20s and 30s, so I was as “Handsome” as I was ever going to be. Fortunately, the striking blue uniform and my Battle Dress Uniform made even an average looking guy like me appear like a handsome Hollywood heart throb.

Still, I had “No Intention Of Never, Ever Getting Married Again.”
At Clark Air Base, Republic of the Philippines, I fell in love with the tropical climate, the country, the base, and my job. I was a Single American G.I., whose blood flowed and his heart pounded, so I naturally noticed I was “Ground Zero” in the Pacific version of Heaven. Everywhere I looked — Filipinas.

A Single Man In Paradise surrounded by beautiful women realizes Life is more fun and meaningful when it is shared.

One Filipina caught my eye. Christy had a Farah Fawcett-Majors shag haircut. Her eyes sparkled. Her smile was diamond bright sunshine.

She wasn’t tall. Still, she caught my eye and I could see her as a “Playboy” or “Penthouse” centerfold in my mind.

Christy might have known two words in English. Language was definitely the barrier. I learned broken Tagalog and she busted through the barrier and learned English quickly.

One of the things I noticed about my future wife was her independence and sense of style. In the Asian culture, women usually are shy and taught to stay in the background. Christy was one of the few Asian women I had ever met, who did not do the cultural “Docile Routine.”

When it came to style, Christy had the eye of a fashion designer. She knew how to mix and match colors that caught my eye and made other men turn their heads.

We began to date. I suddenly realized, “Jackpot !”

I knew “If” I didn’t marry Christy I would always regret the decision. I wanted someone I could “Love” and share my Life with.

Women came and Women went. I was a single man. I knew, Christy was “The Woman!” I didn’t want to see her, “Go.”

I proposed.

She made me wait.

I kept at the job and wondered “If” she would take me up on my offer.

She did.

Friday, July 20, Nineteen Eighty Nine, the presses rolled. “The Philippine Flyer” came “Hot Off The Press !”

In the best tradition of American Newspaper Editors And Reporters, I had told Christy, “The newspaper comes first !”

My Wedding Day was scheduled to happen — after “The Philippine Flyer” came off the presses. Show Time was 10 a.m., at the Justice Of The Peace office at The Main Gate of Clark Air Base. I and everyone of my witnesses and people from my office were in position.

The only thing missing ? The Bride.

Christy was having “Second Thoughts.”

The clock ticks. Time passes.

I smiled a lot.

The smiles helped to hide my nervousness.
I remembered the stories about being “Left At The Altar.” I remembered Dustin Hoffman in the movie, “The Graduate.”

The witnesses were getting restless. The Justice Of The Peace did some more paperwork to pass the time.

I got restless.

At 1 p.m., my “Bride” walked through the door. Heaven retired an “Archangel” that day. Christy was a heavenly vision. She wore a simple white dress with the traditional Filipina “Imelda Marcos Filipina sleeves”, which rise an inch or two at the shoulder seam.

Filipina First Lady Imelda Marcos made the dress style internationally famous, so, at least, Military Americans got in the habit of describing the dress as “The Imelda Dress” or a Filipino dress with “Imelda sleeves.”

Christy wore her long hair up to create a bun at the back described as Chinese style. I describe her holding mechanism as “Chopsticks”, for lack of a better descriptive term.

Christy was “Perfect.”

24 Years Later — My Bride, Christy is still “Perfect.”

The only thing my bride lacked was “Wings.” I looked at her and my mind’s eye supplied the feathery, ivory angelic wings to match her dress.

“I do.” The two most important words I ever uttered in my life, I spoke that day.

When I die, I doubt I go to Heaven. I don’t care. I’m a redneck Texan. I grew up in the Hillbilly Ozarks. I am an arrogant American. I love my country and my flag.

The Texan Warrens and The Missouri Ozarks’ DeLongs taught me the most important thing in Life is to Live It and Love Your Family.

The Day I Step Out Of This Life and stand before God or Satan and am expected to make a statement about my life, I already know, what I will say:

“Sir, with all due respect, I enjoyed every second of my Life. I had the Best Mother any Son or Daughter could ever ask for.”

” I am grateful for my father. I hit the celestial jackpot of aunts and uncles when it came to DeLongs and Warrens. The Universe hit me hard at times in Life.”

“I am not a religious man. However, I got The Best Wife that any man, in the past, present or future, could ever imagine or ask for. Christy Saldana Warren might not have been an archangel, but, she has always been, My Goddess. My wife has always been my strength, my heart and my soul.”

“If this is Judgement Day; so be it ! I ain’t askin’ for ‘Squat.’ I just want The Universe, Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, The Christian God and whatever other deities, real or imagined, which live in The Universe to realize I loved Christy Warren with my heart and blackened soul. I thank The Universe for my son, Samuel Ranilo Warren. I thank The Universe for my daughter, Donna Junea Warren.”

“My children have ‘The Best’ of their beautiful Filipina mother. I truly hope, my children have inherited some of the redneck arrogance, cynicism, skepticism, independence, stubbornness,and courage of their American Warren and DeLong ancestors and their ‘Hell-raising’ father, so they will achieve their own personal greatness in their lives.”

“Therefore, God, Satan, with all due respect,my Life is better than I could of ever hoped for. Faith, Hope, Beauty, Joy, Happiness — I had it all.”

“If you gentlemen dieties wanted me to suffer — you messed up ! I found ‘My Wife.’ I found ‘My Life.’ Christy Saldana Warren. I lived on the planet Earth. But, I Never really Lived until I woke up each morning and looked into Christy’s face.”

“My world. My Life. My Soul. I lived as a man. My wife completed me. No silly reward or No eternal punishment can ever separate my from The Love Of My Wife Christy On Earth.”

“Send Me To Heaven ! Send Me To Hell ! Cast My Atoms To The Far Reaches Of The Universe ! I will have the last smile. I had ‘The Best Mother Of Mankind.’ No Eternal Punishment Will Ever Torture My Sinner’s Soul because I had ‘The Best Wife Of Mankind’ — Christy Saldana Warren.”

In the United States, it is never easy to find the Love of another person.

In the Republic Of The Philippines, Love might be totally ignored because people are taught to believe in a God creature or his underling, rather than open their eyes and search for the soul that adds to or completes their Life.

My Life has taught me that Love is The Soul Who Completes You.

Christy has not always agreed with me. Christy, at times, has definitely disagreed with me. We have had our loud shouting matches at each other. However, I would never want to imagine My Life Without Her.

Thus, God or Satan — real or not — does not worry me. None of the deities of Mankind frighten me. Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, The Christian God can all take a bus to Brooklyn and drown themselves in The Atlantic Ocean. I do not “NEED” or “WANT” any of the silly religious fantasies and mythologies of The World’s Old Tired Organized Religions.

I stood at “Ground Zero”, the day that Super Typhoon Yolanda, came to my barangay in the Philippines. I heard the winds howl. I saw the intense white light around the door frame. The door busts open three times. Three times I rushed put my shoulder to the door and closed it.

None of the phony Gods Of Mankind had ‘The Power’ to take me.

I love my wife and family. The phony Gods didn’t get me and they had their chance.

Super Typhoon Yolanda didn’t take me and I gave her three chances when I grabbed the door and shut it.

Thus, “If” I ever do stand before one of the false Gods Of Mankind or Satan, I will be respectful: I was born a Texan and “Respect” is ingrained in my DNA.

I will not “Fear” because I was raised in the Ozarks by a proud “hillbilly” mother, who taught me “Love IS Family” and “Family IS Always Love.” Relatives who betray you; aren’t family — they are just biological lifeforms who have a lot of the shared RNA and DNA.

Marriage can and does “Create A Special Mystical Strand Of RNA and DNA”, which flows through the blood and enhances the organs to evolve a human into a special, unique human, who lives for his or her family.

In the final analysis, I have, no doubt, I could look God or Satan in the eyes and present my final statements.

“My wife,Christy made me welcome each sunrise. Everyday with Christy was an adventure. We had our ups. We had our downs. We always had ‘The Love.’ Christy gave me two beautiful children, Samuel Ranilo Warren and Donna Junea Warren. The Universe knows ‘My Goddess’ is Christy Warren — my heart, my soul, and my Life.”

Thank You, Christy for 24 Wonderful Years Of Married Life. Thank You, Christy for 24 Years Of Life. Christy, You are “My Goddess.”

I love you, Christy.


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EDITOR’S NOTE: This editorial is based on my observations and experiences in the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. I am the sole author of the opinion.

LOVE in the United States is first and foremost about Money. The 1970s ignited the spark that destroyed Romantic Love in favor of Economic Reality

Samuel Warren

A Grumpy Old Man Editorial


by Samuel Warren

SEX ! Thank You God and Mrs. God for The Gift Of Sex.

Sex never goes out of style.

SEX is the reason we all pretend LOVE can exist between two people, regardless of gender.

Sex is the one issue that splits Americans right down the middle, into two Camps of Us Versus Them.

Sex and the whole concept of Love became so perverted in the United States in the 1970s: it is amazing that anyone would waste time to get married..

Sunk Ship Survivor

My skeptical view of Gender Love comes from being a Sunk Ship Survivor of The Sadistic Sex Storm Of The Sick Seventies.

American Men and Women awoke cold, drenched, angry, hungry, frightened, weak and hopeless on the sand, while the great Ocean Liner Of Convention sunk somewhere beneath the waves over the horizon in the Midnight Of Despair.

The National Tsunami Of Gender Conflict

The irony is the nation sailed i into The National Tsunami Of Gender Conflict without so much as a weather report. But, The United States Of America Ship Of State had focused on avoiding the forgotten mines,submerged depth charges and water-logged torpedoes of the American’s Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s that kept exploding well into the 1960s.

A Legion Of Pirate Issues kept attacking America’s Ship Of State underway in the 1960s.

The Sexual Revolution Ocean Liner Of The 1960s was the largest non-profit ship afloat that allowed passengers to indulge in their most unusual passions. The numerous Ports Of Call of the day stood more than willing to offer all types of narcotic supplies and cargoes to the youth of the era.

The USS Vietnam War

The USS Vietnam War, a tremendous national battleship of issues, sailed battered and bruised through the Open Oceans Of Controversy.

America’s Ship Of State sailed majestically through the Straits Of Strategy and held to the true Course Of Hope. The Sexual Revolution Of The 1960s frolicked in the waves and steered clear of intentional contact with the USS Vietnam War for fear of youthful passengers being “Drafted” into the less than popular war. Other national issues failed to cling to the three majestic mammoth monarchs of the day and disappeared like punctured life rafts beneath the waves of history.

The Mythical Twin Isles of the 1970s

Unnoticed, in the Pacific Ocean, near the Devil’s Triangle, and simultaneously in the Atlantic Ocean, near the Bermuda Triangle, the water boils and simmers. The stench of rotten eggs rises through the ripples. Slowly, the twin volcanic land masses start to rise above the waves. Consistently, the land masses rise cooling and releasing toxic steam and volcanic ash into the surrounding sky.

The Mythical Twin Isles Of The 1970s give birth to beautiful vegetation of asexual wildflowers, which spreads toxic pollen of gender confusion into the sky. The heat of the volcanic lava, ripens the spores, and forces the disease into the jet streams of the moving volcanic ash.

The seismic eruptions spawn Port Royal hurricanes, typhoons, cyclones and tsunamis that had crews of the three major issues afloat “battening down the hatches” and praying to ride out the Hellstorm.

Infernos Of Controversy

Roe Versus Wade and the Equal Rights Amendments were the devastating lightning flashes that refused to be ignored. The self-generating lightning bolts struck time and again and unleashed the Infernos Of Controversy.

It was Every Man And Woman For Themselves. The Sexual Revolution Of The 1960s Hangover was wearing off. Women Turned Against Men seemingly overnight.

America’s Psychological Nuclear War

America’s Feared Nuclear War wasn’t Radiological; it was Psychological.

Michael didn’t sound the Trumpet Of Jericho.

Walls didn’t come tumbling down – they went up – at record speed as the Genders prepared to harden their bases of operations.

The Sadistic Sex Storm Of The Sick Seventies had unleashed the barbaric insanity of both genders.

Women and Men had become Mortal Enemies.

Every American boy and man were suddenly Public Enemy Number One. All members of the American male race had been charged, tried and convicted of being direct descendants of the First Inconsiderate Caveman Of Ancient History, who ever imagined an inappropriate thought about a woman.

The Virus Of National Gender Insanity

Like unseen germs The Virus Of National Gender Insanity spread quicker than the Swine Flu and infected as successfully as Small Pox.

The whole country had gone Nuts!

Real World Feminists and Chauvinists became Taliban Gender Fanatics. They lost no time in planting their battle standards before their encampments. Their Gestapo propaganda sought to separate gender into Us and Them encampments. The Nazi tactics loved to classify people as “sell-outs” and “traitors to their gender” for not choosing a side.

America’s National Politicians in the 1970s were focused on trying to “Save Face” and end the Vietnam War.

Working for The Establishment

Reluctantly, Baby Boomers were turning in their tie-dye T-shirts for business suits. Reality meant kids, groceries, a roof over their heads and responsibility. The time had come to “sell out” to “The American Military Industrial Complex” and find their cubicle in “The Establishment.”

The Status Quo had held.

Like their Grandfathers and Fathers, the boys had traded the Idealism Of Youth for The Sadistic Practicality Of The Real World.

Bras Of Protests – Aprons Of Tradition

Unlike their Grandmothers and Mothers, the girls refused to go quietly into The Kitchen. The Aprons Of Tradition had been burnt with the Bras Of Protest In The 1960s and the mystical gender rules had been consumed as quickly as government draft cards.

Rosy The Riveters had welded her a place in the U.S. Economy. Rosy’s daughters kept their mom’s “Union Cards Of Necessity” and held on to the rights to choose Kids Or Careers.

The Stale Apple Pie Celebrations Of 1976 ended as quickly as a rained out 4th Of July Picnic. TV Dinner Cuisines Of The 1970s became the staple food of The American Bachelor and, probably, The Virginia Slim Smoking Career Minded American Amazon proving, “You’ve Come Along Way, Baby !”

Cursed by Zeus – Tortured by Hera

Being a young man in the United States in the God-awful 1970s meant you were Cursed by Zeus and Tortured by Hera.

In college, it seemed all girls had sworn a Vow Of Celibacy to Mary, Hera, Diana, Isis, Venus, Shiva, the Goddess, and any other mystical or real woman with any reputed celestial ties of any kind. Exorcist rituals, chastity belts, prayer books, Holy Water, the Holy Bible, crucifixes, and prayer beads were not needed.

The Coeds Of The 1970s had learned two magick words that held the Power Of Silver Bullets And Wooden Steaks: “Good Friend.”

Any man or boy who had been “Cursed A Good Friend,” knew the time had come to enter the nearest monastery and become a monk, run off and join the French Foreign Legion, or move in with Mom and Dad – for good.

‘ 70s Psychobabble

The Psychobabble of the 1970s removed the skeptical suspicions of con man and “snake-oil salesman” from the emerging professions of psychiatry, therapists and any related field that could pronounce or spell Freud and Jung.

B.F. Skinner’s Behavior Modification work spawned the publicity that changed the meekest of college students into “psych fountains spewing rationalism and spurting transference.”

Nature Versus Nurture Nonsense

The Nature Versus Nurture Philosophy spread like a California wildfire. Freud blamed Sex for everything. Jung had chose to look for other causes. Mother Nature had been forced into combat with real world mothers.

Children turned on parents like rabid dogs. Overnight parents had become legendary comic book super villains. Celebrities checked their publicity polls and bank accounts and in days – one, if not, both of their parents had been The Consorts Of Satan Devoted To The Destruction Of The American Family And The Dedicated Demons Devoted To Making The Particular Child’s Life Miserable.

Rallying cries like, “Trust No One Over 30” exploded like mortar fire among children, into magazine advertising and spinning off TV shows and movies. “ Logan’s Run” found a voice among youth who cut their teeth on “Star Trek” and “Star Wars.”

The Psychobabble Nature Camp broke out their Earth Day fliers and began prophetic predictions of how the living planet had suddenly initiated a personal conspiracy against every man, woman, child, and teenager who had ever “mown a lawn” or “ate a hamburger.”

Psychobabble Fuels Gender War

The psychotic psychobabble fueled the ongoing gender war.

Suddenly: “Women Are Smarter Than Men And Vice Versa” “Women Are Better Parents Than Men And Vice Versus.” “Men Are Better In Combat Than Women And Vice Versus.” “Men Are Better In Manual Labor Jobs Than Women And Vice Versa.” The differences of opinion went on ad inifinitum with Feminists and Chauvinists trotting out their experts and statistics to prove their beliefs. No one dared asked if any of the silly questions really mattered – that would have been Gender Blasphemy Of The Highest Order.

The X and Y Chromosomes Zones

Somewhere, near the legendary Twilight Zone, there must be The X and Y Chromosomes Zones were bad ideas become deities and try to work their way back into the world as humans. Because the Discovery of DNA in 1976 spurred on serious research and unleashed the flood gates of bad genetic ideas.

The X and Y Chromosomes were continuously being served, backhanded and slammed over the National Net Of Opinion. LOVE had simply become a score in tennis.

The Shuffleboard Of Opinion had the chromosomes being offered up as definite proof of either A Genetic Condition Of Criminal Certainty – the right chromosome meant that you would be a spree or serial killer – or the other favorite conclusion – Gender Certainty Of Homosexuality.

Blow The Doors Off The State Room

The Lightning Strikes Of Roe Versus Wade and The Equal Rights Amendment had ran The Sexual Revolution Of The 1960s aground, anchored the USS Vietnam War at port and blown the doors of f the state rooms of The United States Of America Ship Of State.

The blasted, burning state room doors concealed the Toxic Fumes Of Discontent. Politicians, Feminists and Chauvinists bumble into the compartment.

America’s Bedroom

Once America’s Bedroom had been open to Uncle Sam, the government would never be kicked out. Personal, Family and Sexual Issues were now legitimate copy for The Evening News.

Abortion, Adoption, Sexual Orientation – all gender issues were suddenly fair game for everything from supermarket tabloids to politicians on the campaign trail.

Time to buy the King-Size Bed, America!

America’s Bedroom door blown off the hinges did mean that the Closet no longer seemed important – or maybe, it could just be used to hang clothes.

Open The Closet

The cliche is “People started coming out of the Closet.” (Talk about a Big Closet) History had kept Homosexuality,Lesbianism and Bisexuality out of the limelight for centuries. Perhaps, historians should consider the 1970s as The Decade Of Alternative Lifestyles.

I stick with my term of “The Sick Seventies” because I went from being a teenager to a young man in that God-awful gender sadistic decade.

At the time, it wasn’t uncommon for boys and men to make the statement that maybe: “One of the reasons so many men were becoming homosexual was the simple fact that they were tired of trying to live up to all the rules and expectations of the women around them.”
Made in the USA – in the 1950s

Made in the USA the 1950s, my Mental Operating System had been hardwired with the Ozarks Conservative Basic Input and Output System. Universal Upgrades, patches and fixes throughout the 1960s had never touch the lines of code that require “I Marry For Life Regardless Of The Circumstances That Might Develop Over Time.”

Despite the Viruses, Trojans, And Worms Of Current Events, I kept humming along through life trying to get an education that would allow me to enter the world force. My background processing kept running the Internal Diagnostics trying to figure out what values to delete and if I could continue to try and implement the Constantly Changing Languages Of The Dating Protocol.

Packets Of Gender Priority

None of the Packets Of Gender Priority being sent and received seemed to make any sense. America’s Overall Dating System Version 1970s had major flaws. The daily, monthly, annual and sometimes hourly upgrades were adding bells and whistles to the minor bugs, but the major glitches had The Youth Of America Freezing Up Into Blue Screens Of Death.

Everyday brought a Hard Reboot.

I had one date with a girl, who left college and joined an Amish community. Publicly, you shrug off the event. Privately, you switch to Internal Diagnostics and search every electron of your Mental Hard Drive for any data that would cause someone to make a major life changing decision overnight.

My Personal ARPA Open Source Initiative Version 1978

I went online in October 1955.

The Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA) went online in February 1958. I, Sam the Human, had only went online in the world about three years before the groundwork was being laid for the Internet.

By March1972, a United States Department of Defense Directive, changed the name ARPA to the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency (DARPA) and became established as a separate defense agency under the Office of the Secretary of Defense.

In March 1972, Sam the Human, was online in his Junior year at Galena High School. Wes Ashcroft, my math teacher and the brother of former U.S.Attorney General John Ashcroft, had given me a book that talked about the ongoing possibility of the development of computers – one day – possibly, in the near future.

Scientist didn’t have to worry about their basic transistors and silicon wafers developing any romantic attractions other than basic electron, proton and neutron attractions..

My First Kiss

I had started school at age five. During recess one day, before my sixth birthday, I had went up and kissed a girl on the playground. The pleasurable experience had been saved in my internal database. Society’s constant references to Love and Kisses only kept me uploading information into adolescence.

Confused Teenagers

By my teenage years, I remained as curious as any boy in America. Every boy wanted to be Hugh Hefner and live at the Playboy Mansion. Sean Connery and Roger Moore had breathed life into Ian Fleming’s “James Bond,” Early 1970s National Male Role Models – Real or Fictional – had become icons that rubbed salt into the wounds and wombs of Feminists.

I never missed an episode of “Wonder Woman.” Farrah Fawcett Majors blonde bathing suit poster was found on walls in the nation’s college and military dormitories, but as a teenage boy the woman who always caught my eye was the attractive brunette Lynda “Wonder Woman” Carter.

The Sick Seventies in U.S. History should stand out as being the time when it seemed like a crime to have been born a boy growing into a man. On the other side of the coin, life had to be confusing for girls who were being taught “Men Are The Enemy” and were being encouraged to play with B B guns, instead of dolls.


Although the psychobabble of the 1970s had reached the Midwest, conversations about hormones and puberty were topics that were only expounded upon in college in the early 1970s. Personal computers weren’t around in the 1970s. Knowledge relied on the traditional sources people, school, libraries, books, newspaper and magazines.

There was guidance and advice for everything on the planet, except – SEX. The experts of the world provided you all kinds of information about every subject imaginable, but, when it came to SEX – the experts walked you to the door and then, turned and walked away.

You were left at the Door To Sex alone, as though – no one knew what waited on the other side.

Computers and people do seem to have a lot in common. Gigo, is an early computer term, which means “Garbage In, Garbage Out.” If you put bad or wrong information in a computer, then, what you get in return is garbage. Information affects people the same way. The so-called relationship information of the 1970s usually turned out to be “garbage.”

College had taught me theory.

Momma paid the bills and I remained a “Professional Student,” who loved knowledge, trivia and the education routine, but had no idea what I could ever really do with it.

Welcome To The Real World

By February 1978, I was Online at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas. “Boot Camp” proved to be a major system overhaul. The year 1978 is when I got my Real World Open Source Initiative. After boot camp, my eyes got open to the Real World.

Results; not theory is what counts in the Real World.

The U.S. Air Force taught me job skills that put groceries on the table, a roof over my head, and money in my wallet.

Theory had given way to Results.

At last, I had a purpose in life – a goal. Welcome To The Real World.

The Sadistic Sex Storm Of The Sick Seventies still raged spewing volcanic ash into national issues and shaking the earth of values beneath my feet.

Life Among The Explosives !

In the 1970s, you learned to always be careful to avoid the depth charges of Feminist and Chauvinist actions that would torpedo your simplest remark. The most mundane action, like opening a door for a woman, became a political act that always seemed to rally Feminists and Chauvinists into the fray or brought in their Taliban-AlQuaedaFanatical Relationship Opinions. A woman might say, “Thank you.” Another woman, might slap or curse you. It was a no win situation for boys and men.

The whole concept of relationships by the middle 1970s was like living in a room with unstable explosives. You never knew what to expect. You never knew what remark or action would possibly set off a woman that you were interested in.
It seemed almost any word, phrase or action could knock you “overboard” into the Ocean Of Gender Controversy.”

Like a cheap dyed shirt, the 1970s finally faded. By the 1980s, the Sex Storm didn’t seem as violent and persistent. Gender Combat had finally seemed to settle on definite Rules Of Engagement and the Campaigns For Job Choices And Equal Pay had led to meaningful treaties between the genders.

I wasn’t born handsome.

I wasn’t born rich.

I simply had to take my place in the legion of boys, who had been born in the 1950s and were reaching manhood in the 1970s. The battles of the sexes had finally escalated into a sadistic all-out war that no one was winning.

Romantic Ideology

The era I grew up in – the initial rules were simple: All boys were Prince Charmings waiting to come of age. All girls were Cinderella waiting to come of age. Marriage was the process that ensured “Happily Ever After.” The Sick Seventies changed all those beliefs overnight. By the time the 1970s had arrived there was no doubt Romantic Ideas had to be recast in the Real World terms of economic reality.

The Almighty Dollar called the shots.

It probably is true that before the 1970s in the United States that people did: ”Marry For Love Instead Of Money.

During the 1970s and after, if anyone Marries For Love Over Money – , then, they are just fooling themselves. The American Culture has rebuilt the idea of relationships around economics.

By 2010, a poor Real World American Cinderella will simply have to run off to another country to find a man to marry for love because in the U.S., there is no separating economics and romance.

The Real World Price Of Love In America

Alimony, Palimony, Prenuptial Contracts, Child Support, Community Settlements, and Property Settlements, are all factors of America’s Romantic Economic Reality. Some of the laws might have been on the books before the 1970s, but the Sick Seventies changed the laws into Personal National Lotteries that sent couples dashing to the nearest divorce lawyers to cash in their scratch off tickets.

Since the 1970s – Love In America is a rigged lottery.

The controversy spawned by gender skirmishers throughout the 1970s did seem to bring serious attempts at equality in pay and the workplace, which began in earnest in the 1970s.

By the end of the 1980s, the Gender War Of Attrition was finally wearing thin. It seemed that Women and Men had hated each other for so long that there was nothing left. Fortunately, The Sadistic Sex Storm Of The Sick Seventies proved to be an American Gender Cultural Conflict that stops at the shores of our shining seas.

Pups Of The World

Our American View Of The World – we often forget or ignore the fact that there are various cultures that have been around for thousands and tens of thousands of years. We are The Pups Of The World telling The Old Dogs Of The World they are all wrong.

I’ve never known American Parents whose blood pressure didn’t blow a gasket when their teenagers or 20 something children got in their faces and told Mom and Dad they were all wrong.

Like Hardheaded Teenagers Americans sometimes have the tendency to yell our values into the faces of other nations. The Other Nations like Mom and Dad tend to ignore “the arrogant pups.”

Victims Of National Arrogance

It is wonderful to be an American, but time and again we become Victims Of Our Own National Arrogance. My theory of the major glitch of American Foreign Policy is our Unwelcome Attempt To Try And Americanize All Other Countries.

In my lifetime, I’ve never met anyone who wanted religion shoved down their throats and yet missionaries swing bibles like baseball bats.

Whenever a Bible-Waving Christian gets in my face I have always smiled and confessed: “I’m Buddhist” or “I’m a Satanist.” Those words never failed to have the soul-saving missionary-types slowly back away and then literally run out of my presence.

I noticed overseas, time and again, Americans of good intentions trying to shove their values down the throats of people of other cultures. Most foreign citizens were courteous enough to let the crusading Americans have their say.

By the mid 1980s, Uncle Sam had given me “Liberty From America’s Sadistic Sex War,”

Relationships between women and men were light years apart in Asia in comparison to America. The rules were different in Japan, Korea, the Kingdom Of Thailand and the Republic Of The Philippines. In the United States, in the 1970s, American women were changing the rules and American men either learned to go along or become a monk.

‘Save The Asian Sisters’

The Asian Culture, in general, became the welcome loophole for American men overseas. As a rule, American wives and American women in uniform overseas seemed convinced that Asian women were subservient. I watched time and again as American wives and American women in uniform tried to “Save” their Asian sisters.

Americanize The Competition

The attempt always seemed on the surface “humanitarian.” But, Humanitarianism In The Real World Always Comes At A Price – the real message proved to be simple relationship “protectionism” – “eliminate the competition.”

By converting the competing Asian women over to American values, then, the Asian women would be “Americanized” and no longer “competition”. The tactic usually failed because the tactic seldom breached the walls of Asian cultural traditions.

American women in uniform at stateside bases could pick and choose from among the population of men on or off the base. The ball game was extremely different overseas. American women in uniform overseas were often ignored because they kept to the American gender rules in the Asian culture. American wives also found themselves ignored for the same reason.

Wallets Over Men

In the 1980s, in Asia, Asian women weren’t hardwired to examine a man’s future earnings potential before she flirted with him.

American women’s attempts to “Americanize” the Asian women usually “blew up” in their faces because their national arrogance kicked in and they wound up “talking down” to the women they were trying to convert.

The irony, in the 1980s, Asian cultures did not have the Standard Of Living of the American culture, yet Asian women seemed more content to date and marry men than their American sisters.

Asian women did seem capable of loving a man for the person that he is, rather than worrying about his future economic earning potential. By the 1980s, American women seemed extremely paranoid about financial security, which always seem to come through even on “dates.:

In Asia, American women became their own worst enemies. Instead of “eliminating the competition,” they “guaranteed the success of Asian Women by revealing American Women Loved Wallets More Than Men

Love Beyond The World Of Wallets

My observations of America’s Gender War had created skepticism and cynicism that had replaced most of my idealistic notions of romance. The Real World Romance In The United States had become Dollars And Sense and left chocolate hearts and greeting cards to previous American generations.

By the late 1980s, I had accepted my Fate that I would be an American Bachelor. The feelings of Loneliness – would just be something I would continue to deal with.

Then, I met Christy.

None of the silly, American Gender And Dating Rules Of The 1970s worked. She liked me for the man I am. Being an American didn’t work For or Against me, in her eyes.

Gender Fallout

History proves Economic Catastrophes and the Fallout From Wars last for generations. Cultural Shifts also bring generational fallout.

Computers and the Internet have been used to try and overcome the fallout from the Sexes Sick Seventies, but the cultural shift changed the rules.

Diplomacy Trumps Dating

Now, American Men And Women are cast in roles like visiting heads of state, who choose neutral ground, to try and negotiate a working agreement, rather than a relationship.

The Sadistic Sex Storm Of The Sick Seventies had disappeared as quietly as it had began. The Twin Isles, hidden by the fog, slip beneath the waves.

American Boys And Girls, American Men And Women may not yet be comfortable around one another, but, at least, they are no longer acting like Middle Eastern Jihad Martyr Combatants Locked Into An Eternal Struggle For Extinction.

By 2010, it seems that American Men and Women can finally be in the same room without the radical Feminist, Chauvinist Catafalque-Fanaticism that tainted relationship attempts of the 1970s.

The Risk Of The 21st Century Relationships

My Heart goes out to Teenagers and Youth of the 21st Century, who are trying to make sense of the inherent nonsense of the American Dating Culture. I imagine technology has complicated, instead of, clarified dating.

My unsolicited advice is to Develop Your Own Dating Philosophy. Know What You Value In Life. Know Where You Stand On Social, Political, Economic and Philosophical Issues.

Never Try To Change Someone You Are Interested In; it doesn’t work – people either change; their own views or they don’t – but, trying to force a change of ideas on someone else never works.

Find Someone Who Shares Or Is Willing To Accept Your Values.

In my experience – There Truly Is Someone For Everyone.


Written by samwarren55

February 17, 2010 at 4:31 PM

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