From the former Newstime website – interview by Rudzani St.floyd. Published in November 2010.

In this week’s Tell It Like It Is with Floyd meet the world’s famous single dad, author, columnist and soon to be television talk show host, Marlon Abrahams. Marlon sure tells it like it is. Read how he believes in the future of this country even though he believes it will not happen in his lifetime. Marlon also happens to have a solution for Julius Malema and DA leader Helen Zille, read on

RF: Who are you?

MA: I am a Creative Communicator, but you can Google my name for the juicy details.

RF: What do you think of SA going forward?

MA: I find politics and politicians amusing. I am a bit of an “expert” on Roman history, especially the periods before, during and immediately after Julius Caesar. And the machinations of modern day politics are absolutely no different than it was back then. Except that they used to have no moral qualms about killing an opponent for the sake of expediency. Though I think that still happens in some places like Zimbabwe for example. South Africa is just fine and will continue to get better. People will fight, people will die, people will be brutalised and raped and murdered and savaged and all the bad things. And people will prosper, and become rich and happy and healthy and all the good things. Just like it was back in Rome. We forget that we were seriously dysfunctional for over 40 years. It’s going to take at least that long if not more to get better, certainly not in my life time.

RF: What changes do you want to see happen in your lifetime in SA?

MA: Free, world class education from pre-school to university, for all.

RF: What do you think of the SA media? Is it doing it for you? What do you want to see happen?

MA: I think a lot of us (journalists) take ourselves far too seriously. In general though I think there is an overall lack of creativity in telling stories, whether it be on TV, Radio, online or print. Most media have such a blatant agenda or bias it’s frankly ludicrous. What happened to the pursuit of objectivity? I remember we had a debate about it in journalism school and we decided that objectivity was impossible, but that it should always be strived for ruthlessly. I don’t think enough energy is exerted in that direction. But I’m an eternal optimist and I believe it is improving daily.

RF: What newspaper do you read and why?

MA: I don’t read newspapers anymore. I consume many news channels online on my blackberry mostly. TV news is too repetitive and the timing more often than not does not suit me.  I enjoy the Telegraph online, primarily because of the innate skill the journalists have as writers and story tellers. They’re able to write about any subject, and even if I am not interested in the subject matter per se, I’m still able to enjoy the article. A quality which I like to think I have in my own writing style. I really do believe that we have a responsibility to entertain our audience as well as giving them the news or making them have second thoughts about an issue. But when you have a blatant disregard for, for example the fact that some people’s looks are better suited for radio, or that some people’s voices are better suited for mutes, you have lost your audience even before the bulletin begins.

RF: How did you get into your career?

MA: I’ve always enjoyed telling a good story. As a kid I used to love going to the movies and retelling the story in the movie to my friends, and one day on the bus to school I had the entire top floor in stitches retelling a movie I had seen that weekend. That’s when I knew I’d be telling stories and getting paid for it one day. I consider myself a Creative Communicator. I’ve studied journalism and worked as a journo, and as a Marketing, PR, and Communications professional. I’m a published author, and soon to be TV talk show host!

RF: When did you last travel and who paid for it? How was the trip and with whom were you?

MA: I flew down to Cape Town for my high school reunion in August 2010. My ex-wife, who’s one of my best friends, paid for it and insisted on accompanying me to the event. It was a blast!

RF: What do you think of President Zuma’s cabinet shake-up?

MA: I wrote the speech for the ousted Minister of Communication General whatshisname, for the launch of Top TV and I was not impressed by his, shall we say energy. I’m glad he is gone. I also think that there is a misconception that because we are South African we are all obsessed with race and politics. There are a few of us who despite being discriminated against and having grown up in a shithole like the Cape Flats, have moved on and I think we genuinely try to interact with each other as equals, which is more fun anyway because then you can’t hide behind stereotypes anymore and your true stupidity or brilliance comes to the fore. Though I do find our politics very, very amusing from time to time. I think, for example, that Malema and Zille should just get a room already! I’ll bet you anything it’ll be the best sex either one of them ever had!

RF: What are you reading currently?

MA: The Secret by Rhonda Byrne is kind-of a daily reference, I’ve read it and watched the DVD many times. The First Man In Rome, by Colleen McCullough. I’m fascinated with all things Roman and Italian and have read her five-book series previously, this is my second reading.  Outliers – The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell and The Girl Who Couldn’t Say No by SA Author and fellow parent24 columnist Tracy Englebrecht.

RF: Do you think online journalism has a future in this country with its lack of willing advertising?

MA: It’s the way of the future. We need to translate the Google model onto news websites. In SA the only thing stopping online being more attractive than print right now is that the masses don’t have enough BlackBerries, but that’s changing very quickly. Online allows you to pick and choose the media you want when you want. This is why brands like my column (here and on parent24) are developing a large and loyal following. In the past if you paid R5 for a newspaper you were forced to read everything in it. Now even if you prefer another website for your news, you can still access me directly.  The consumer is no longer channel loyal; they don’t care on which platform they get their fix, as long as they get it and it is exactly their kind of poison. This is why we have an opportunity to create global personal brands right now in terms of the content of our columns and the style of our delivery. The content and style on the different platforms I write my columns on reflect the demographic of that particular audience. Someone who enjoys my column on parent24.com won’t necessarily enjoy my column on NewsTime, or my column in Status Quo magazine. Magazines, in my opinion are dead already. I think quite soon, like in the next 10 years, the general print media will undergo a massive shock, like a kind of heart-attack.  It will shake and writhe for another few years and then it will be stone dead. Already the book-publishing model has changed, every so-called self publishing house is trying to sign me up to “self-publish” the next book in my series. I get calls from publishing houses’ call centres in the US and India. But the truth is that there is no longer a need for the traditional publisher. I could write my new book, make it Kindle friendly and downloadable and sell it direct to you from my own website. It’s no big secret though. We’re in that in-between period when one era is dying and a new one is being born.

RF: Which news-site do you read more often?

MA: The Telegraph, NewsTtime, News24, Independent (London)

RF: Are you on any social networking site? Which and why?

MA: Facebook, primarily to promote my columns and my book, but I’ve managed to track down long lost friends in the process. I don’t like twitter. I also don’t like people who post inane stuff like I just farted, or messages to their lovers, or expressing thoughts that really should stay in their own heads. But the beauty of Facebook is that every idiot (including me) is entitled to their own opinion. I think the one thing Facebook teaches us is tolerance of different personalities. Or of-course you can click delete.

RF: What is your guilty pleasure?

MA: I’d have to say good chocolate and good Scotch, but I have no guilt about it!

RF: What’s your greatest extravagance?

MA: I think it’s still to come; will have to get back to you.

RF: As a single parent how do you juggle your personal needs with those of your children without neglecting either?

MA: I believe it’s not the amount of time you spend with your kids or anyone else for that matter; it’s what you do with that time. I have a long distance relationship with my youngest daughter who lives in Prague and I try to call her once a week. That 5 minute conversation sometimes has more impact in both of our lives than me spending every day with my kids in SA.

RF: What’s your advice to single fathers and mothers out there?

MA: It’s not about you or your ex anymore. It’s about the child. If you believe this, you’ll make a good parent. Just think about it for a second. And be open to the total unconditional love from your kids, they will teach you the true nature of unconditional love, but only if you’re open to the experience.

RF: Who are your role models and why?

MA: The Ancient Romans, as a culture, they lived with intelligence and without fear!

RF: What’s in your IPod?

MA: I honestly don’t know what an IPod is exactly. Is it that device you play music on? I listen to my music in my car or my stereo at home. Never really been bothered to find out more about an IPod. I am addicted to my BlackBerry though and hope the laws will change one day so we can be married.

RF: Any job you did (before) and would never wish anybody to do?

MA: Don’t work for insecure “superiors”, life’s too short.

RF: What’s your golden rule?

MA: Be present 100%, in the moment. Especially when you communicate! Look at the person, into their eyes. Listen to what they’re saying, and pay attention to their body language, it’ll often tell you much more than their words will.

RF: If you were not doing what you do now what would you do?

MA: Having immense fun trying to figure out how to spend a gazillion dollars I just received from nowhere, because the “secret told me to visualise it and feel it” and it actually worked.

RF: How important is money to you?

MA: In so far as it is a means to an end I think it’s very important. But it’s never worth selling your soul for!

RF: Has your job made your personal life suffer? How?

MA: Not really, it’s all about balance.

RF: What has been (was) your most tense moment in your life?

MA: When I came home from work about 10 years ago and my super hot girl friend sat me down and did a strip show for me and I stared up at her and thought OMG is this it, is this really all there is to life?

RF: What is the most treasured possession in your life?

MA: I don’t hold on to possessions. I regularly throw out stuff I don’t use. I quite happily pass on gifts I have no use for by rewrapping them and giving them to other people who might appreciate or need them more.

RF: How do you want to be remembered?

MA: As the world’s first and most talked about male Talk-Show host of a parenting TV series. As far as we (the production company and I) know, there isn’t such a thing anywhere on the planet right now. We’re just dotting some i’s and crossing some t’s and should be on-air in the New Year 2011.

RF: Have you ever been called a racist? And how do you react to it?

MA: There we go again with the race thing. It’s a tad over used already. Very tired! I don’t like hanging out with certain kinds of blacks, whites, coloureds, or Indians. And I love hanging out with certain kinds of blacks, whites, coloureds and Indians. Oh and I have a very good Chinese friend I don’t see often enough, oh and a cute Jewess and a hot Muslim woman.... Yes that’s it... I think I need an Aborigine, and Eskimo and a Maori, then I’ve got it all covered? Don’t think I’m going to make it to the lost tribes of the Incas, although I did attract a Mexican Doctor to comment on one of my columns the other day after quoting one of his papers. So ja, maybe I will be fully PC (vomit) soon.

RF: Where did you meet your partner (if you have)?

MA: I’m preparing for Miss Right, according to my astrologer she’s planning to show up sometime in 2011. Although he was wrong about Angelina Jolie leaving Brad and the kids and calling me up...so...ja.

RF: What are/were the most memorable moments in your life?

MA: The births of my children, and every second I spend with them. It’s not always great, or I’m not always on top form, but it’s always the most memorable!

RF: Do you think Lyndall Beddy really exists? Are her theories believable? Did UCT really train her?

MA: I think she’s David Bullard’s mother. I love her, I think what she’s achieved just into reaction and comment is just awesome!

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Are your kids Indigo?

Ever heard of the Indigo Child Phenomenon? According to Wikipedia, Indigo children is a pseudoscientific label given to children who are claimed to possess special, unusual and / or supernatural traits or abilities. The idea is based on New Age concepts developed by Nancy Anne Tappe in the 1970s. The concept of indigo children gained popular interest with the publication of a series of books in the late 1990s and the release of several films the following decade.

A variety of books, conferences and related materials have been created surrounding belief in the idea of indigo children and their nature and abilities. These beliefs range from their being the next stage in human evolution or possessing paranormal abilities such as telepathy to the belief that they are simply more empathic and creative than their peers. According to Nancy Ann Tappe, there are four kinds of Indigo types: Humanist, Artist, Conceptualist and Catalyst.

However, skeptics suggest that the indigo phenomenon is due to parents preferring to believe their children are special, rather than having a medical diagnosis which implies damage or imperfection. Also criticized are the traits used to describe children, which are so vague as to be able to apply to anyone. Apparently many so-called Indigo children are diagnosed with attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder. 

Our own local Indigo Child?

What made me think about this phenomenon was ten-year-old Jordan van der Walt’s “Just One Bag” campaign. This little man was on the radio last week and at first I wasn’t sure if I was listening to a mature, concerned adult. The boy was talking about his realization that he wanted to help people, when he saw starving people on the side of the road. And he just started going around asking people to donate “Just One Bag” of maize meal.

He sounded so professional, compassionate, but most importantly, absolutely real, and committed. You know how you can tell when someone is just doing something for publicity or as a stunt? Well this boy had none of that, he was caring personified. Which made me think that he could in-fact be and Indigo child of the humanist type, no?

And what made this boy’s campaign even more impressive was that people were responding in droves, even the presenter of the radio show immediately donated R5000 worth of maize meal, while Jordan announced that he had raised 5 tons so far on his own.

Think about it for a second. The kid is 10-years-old! How many ten-year-olds are affected by the plight of someone else to the extent that they would commit to a project like this wholeheartedly, giving up hanging out with friends or computer games or whatever it is that they do?  As parents our job is to always be aware of our kids’ tendencies towards particular paths, good or bad. It’s as important to be curious as to whether little Sipho is experimenting with drugs as it is to wonder if he has suddenly developed a penchant for deciphering complex mathematical equations. Jordan has his parents’ full support, without which I think he probably still would have succeeded, and I say this just based on the bit of his personality I was exposed to on the radio. But the fact that his folks are behind him and did not say something stupid like “you can’t change the world you know”, means that he is now in-fact making a difference in the world. Look out for the tell tale signs of greatness in your kids, and support and nurture it to the full! 
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Malema and Zille Should have a baby!

I’ll give you a minute to stop choking on your cornflakes. There, there, breathe, take a sip of coffee and now relax. I have solved South Africa’s problems in one inspired burst of fantasy. Given the way these two name call and tit-for-tat each other, I say get a room already! And you know what!? I‘ll bet you anything it will be the best shag either of them ever had!

But seriously, think about it for a sec. Malema is destined to rule our beautiful country. It’s just a matter of time. Let’s hope he matures politically enough not to do a Mugabe on us all when the time comes. Zille, or rather the DA will never loose the Cape because my brasse vannie kaap will never vote for the darkies again, cos although we’re generally not the sharpest tools in the shed, we don’t enjoy being screwed over without our permission more than once, okay maybe twice.

So what to do, what to do! Picture this: Malema and Zille at some politically charged rally or speech or something. It’s raining outside, dark clouds laden with water hover in the skies above; the masses are toyi-toying outside. Lightning rips a violent bolt through the clouds, followed hurriedly by angry thunder.

Malema and Zille, unknowingly head for the toilets at the same time. They stop, look up at each other simultaneously and Julius, consumed with an unstoppable rage says: “Cockroach.” Zille, eyes blazing with indignation, replies with stoic control, moves closer, her nose nearly touching Malema’s. “Inkwenkwe” (uncircumcised boy) she whispers.

“Bastard” Screams Malema in uncontrolled fury, “I’ll show you who’s uncircumcised,” simultaneously whipping out his Johnson. Zille gasps: “My God, it’s, it’s, it’s so black!”

Time falters to slow-motion as she feels herself helpless to stop her hands from grabbing the black mamba, I mean member. And that’s when all passionate hell breaks loose. They barely make it into the loo. Vicious thunder and lightening roars them on to earth-shattering orgasms. The shattered bathroom door and basin, a telling testament to their deliciously violent sexual tryst.

Somehow they manage to disentangle themselves and slink back into the gathering. Now the guilt sets in, the absolute shame and disgust they both feel. Julius feels the wrath of his ancestors weighing down on his shoulders for shagging the cockroach. Zille, zig-zags between abject self-loathing, and post coital bliss, slowing feeling herself go insane.

Somehow they both manage to avoid each other in coming weeks. Both are surprised by an inexplicable longing for each other, mixed with a sudden involuntary reflex to vomit. Then it happens, Zille wakes one morning and rushes to the bathroom, just in-time to vomit. She’s pregnant!

After a few clandestine meetings with Malema they decide to call a press conference and announce their love to the world, proclaiming that the messiah to South Africa’s problems is growing in Zille’s belly. The crowd is stunned. The entire nation goes quiet... Then slowly we all realise the implications, the tribes are united for once, and we have a saviour on the way, baby Jesus, oops baby Julius Zille is on the way. And so the party begins, and we all live happily ever after. Come on Julius and Zille, time to stop fighting like teenagers and do your duty for Rome, I mean South Africa!

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What If They’re Supposed To Be Raped and Murdered?

What if the soul knows its purpose? Sounds very erudite doesn’t it? This little pearl of wisdom was shared with me in the throws of a party recently when I was confronted by a reader of my columns who had been “dying to meet me so as to share this theory.” I surprised myself by having a half-way decent discussion on the subject with the chap and left pondering the idea.

I’ve always had a hard time understanding why children, and especially newborn babies, or even unborn babies have to suffer the fate of early deaths, or abortions, or miscarriages, or even some of the horrific abuse that sometimes befalls these innocents. The mass misery suffered by the hoards of children in third world areas is also a debate with no apparent logical answer. I’m not talking about the physical reasons for their plight, like their circumstances, or the financial or emotional state of their parents.

I’m referring to the reason their souls became animated in the first place. And to engage in this thought process, one has to assume that we indeed have a soul and that its energy is constant and undergoes continued rebirth until it reaches one-ness with the universe. I would venture that the avatars like JC, Buddha, Mohammed even the likes of some of the so-called saints, Mother Theresa and co, probably reached that kind of evolution of the soul. If you don’t believe in that kinda thing, this discussion is probably the biggest load of horse droppings you’ve heard in a long time. But never mind, I look forward to your own erudite response at the end of my column. And it goes without saying of-course, that you’re entitled to your own beliefs and theories.

“The soul is pre-programmed, and knows its function,” said my new friend. “Even in the case of it being aborted, or dying soon after birth, or even suffering a horrific demise, like rape, or murder?”, was my response. “Absolutely! Think about it, what else makes sense?” he replied.

That would be an easy way to explain the often inexplicable and non-sensical nature of death and suffering wouldn’t it? I mean what if the concept of the evolution of the soul through different states of enlightenment did in-fact exist. And what if there was indeed a finite number of souls in the universe that keep on being reborn, or becoming reanimated until, over however long it takes, centuries in some cases, they continue to strive for that one-ness with the universe?

Another argument could also contend that the wayward souls, such as those belonging to the degenerates of society were in-fact going through a kind of learning or lesson. While the prodigious souls among us may be the ones in the teaching phase of their journey to Nirvana?

I have no hard and fast rule about the workings of the universe and have no problem with anyone latching onto any form of crutch, religious or otherwise to try and make sense of life. Whatever gets you through the day and does not lord itself as superior to anything else works for me.

I’m still pondering the theory of souls having their own set of instructions. It’s just a bit hard to accept that a particular soul’s instructions might read: “You will be born from John and Sarah Jackson, and you will live for one week, before you’re all going to get hit by a bus.” Or; “You will be born to a particular race of people who will endure eternal suffering and persecution, but don’t worry, you will be back soon after you die from starvation in a concentration camp.” Or; “You will be born to a monster of a parent who will keep you locked up in a cellar and together you and your father will be responsible for the release of a few more souls into the universe.”

The mysteries of life and death will forever remain unanswered. Until someone comes back from the abyss with un-tampered video evidence of what lies beyond of-course. But until then, all is fair in theories of the bizarre and unproven. Is it not?

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Getting inside the head of the penis

Just how well do you know your penis? No, it’s not a frivolous question. Women have for centuries accused us of having two brains and that most of us think with the little head. Well I’m beginning to believe them. Did you know that the penis is quite capable of ejaculating without being erect or even the least bit aroused? And also did you know that it is quite capable of defying extreme exhaustion, mental fatigue, a knowing dislike for a partner, and yet it will still, against all odds stand to attention repeatedly, sometimes up to five times in one night? No, you’re not allowed to ask me how I’ve come by this earth shattering information.

The scary conclusion I’ve been forced to come to is that the penis does in-fact have a mind of its own, and its sole purpose, its only raison d’être , the only thing it is interested in above all else, save the excretion of waste, is to make babies. What a fascinating machine it is. It does not care that you’re tired, or emotionally wasted maybe, or even insufficiently aroused, if it is anywhere near the possibility of procreating, it will find its resolve and shoot at the target.

Though it must be said that conversely it can also be quite content to go AWOL for its own, very complex and intricate reasons, sometimes a reason as frivolous as just simply showing the big head whose boss. I mean, why else would it not rise to the occasion when the big head is in the mood and commands it to dance? And I’m not making light of men with serious erectile dysfunction, that’s a serious issue. I’m having a very serious exposé about the petulant nature of an appendage we men to learn to love, cherish and relate to as the best thing since the invention of the wheel, right after we’ve had our first self-induced jerk-off.

Which brings me to my headline today. There really is a difference between ejaculation and orgasm. The fact that in most cases men provide visible proof of ejaculate, does not necessarily mean that they have in-fact had an orgasm. Again this is the little head exercising its superiority over the big head. It knows that its main purpose is to fertilise eggs, as quickly as possible and nothing will stop it from achieving its objective.

Ever gone tantric? Now there’s a trip everyone should experience at least once. From the male point of view, you actually orgasm without ejaculating... Think about it... huh... how cool is that! And apparently if you do it right you can go on all day long. How do you think those “enlightened” beings can sit under a tree for years with only a silly grin on their faces.

But why all this talk about wriggly tadpoles and disenchanted members? Well, it serves as a warning. The penis is not to be trusted; it is a uniquely sophisticated device, supremely engineered to disperse the seeds of life at the slightest opportunity. Be warned, be aware, and don’t come running to me when you’ve proved me right. You might think you’re in it for the sexual euphoria of the orgasm, trust me, your best friend is only in it for the egg shoot, and he ain’t your friend either. 

What about contraception, condoms and such like, I here you scream in horror. Well let me let you in on another dastardly secret. Some evolved and more experienced penises have discovered ways to break through the condom, in some cases even making them disappear during seed planting activity. Some can even coax the big head into thinking that you’re capable of coitus interruptus, or that your partner never forgets to take precaution, or or or. Don’t trust the fucker, he’s only in it for the babies! You have been warned! 

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In the beginning, there was hair, lots of hair, and the vagina and penis were not visible, while the breasts were merely functional appendages for feeding offspring. In his book The Prehistory of Sex: Four Million Years of Human Sexual Culture, anthropologist Timothy L Taylor makes some fascinating “discoveries”. 


Some of which apparently still comes into play in our present-day mating and parenting rituals. I often find these “discoveries” interesting or even amusing, because in the final analysis there’s no real proof of anything. 
However a lot has to be said for informed arguments and the powers of intelligent deduction. If you’ve ever been on a date which involved dinner, whether you are a willing participant or not, at some stage of the date both of you will feel an inexplicable expectation of intercourse after the dinner. 

And do you know where this completely irrational expectation comes from? Picture this scenario: Four million years ago a pregnant female ancestor of yours finds herself in the precarious position of not being able to be equal to the hunt. And as a consequence starts to miss out on meal times and slowly begins to starve.

However, all is not lost. A young buck in the community of monkey boys wants to get his groove on with her and although she’s not the least bit interested, somewhere in the back of her ever evolving brain a plan begins to form. Back then, apparently, the connection between copulating and pregnancy was a mystery, as was the concept of being faithful. I say apparently because, I wasn’t around to be absolutely sure.

Anyway back to monkey boy meets pregnant monkey girl. She decides to give up the booty in return for food, and through a series of a combination of stern and seductive grunts, including a few timely batting of the eyelids, communicates to monkey boy that he can have some sugar as long as he brings home a dead animal every now and then. Timothy L Taylor would have us believe that this practice is still somehow hidden in our DNA and is in-fact the stimulus that sets off our modern day expectation for sex after dinner, in the dating scenario. Whether or not this actually happened is at best an informed hypothesis, however we all know that in today’s mating ritual, if you’ve made it to the third date and it includes the partaking of a meal, one of you is probably thinking of getting some, or putting out. 

What fascinates me is our sometimes incredible means to adapt in the face of life threatening scenarios. And I would argue like most seasoned parents I’m sure, that parenting is often indeed a life-threatening state of existence. To be a half-way good parent is to be prepared for any scenario, which is of course impossible to do with kids ‘cos you never know what’s going to happen next. I was recently engaged in an email conversation with one of the readers of my column, a widow of four kids ranging in ages from 4 to 19. 

She had recently had to deal with a series of events which forced her to call upon that ancient reservoir of intuitive female nous. How do you cope with your eldest son being run over and nearly killed in a car accident, your four-year-old little girl having a heart-stopping moment after crashing into a wall during playtime with a friend, the other son being arrested for vandalism and your young teenage daughter collapsing from a diabetic seizure, all in the space of a few months? 

Suffice it to say that she did not have to resort to anything quite as extreme as our hairy friend in Tim Taylor’s story, but she pulled through admirably. And I for one had to ponder the instinctual emotional intelligence she had to draw upon to get through this ordeal. I’m not going to go into the specifics of her triumph over adversity, but the point is she knew, on a subconscious level that surrender was not an option, and that somehow she had to and would prevail. I think this is the lesson all parents have to learn. In the pursuit of raising and nurturing your offspring to adulthood and beyond, there is no surrender and no quarter.

Trust your instincts and it will get you through. So what do you think? Can our instincts be traced back to four million years ago? Are good parents equipped with pre-programmed responses to ensure the survival of their children? And how do bad parents abdicate that responsibility so easily?


 
 
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Ho Ho Ho 12/20/2009
 
Ho Ho Ho, hope you all have a lovely Christmas, if you celebrate it, and a great holiday season wherever you are.  Thanks for the support and comments, pro and con over the last year, it’s been a nice ride and I hope my columns for 2009 made you smile, think, and did not frustrate you too much. Thought I’d share my new found appreciation of Christmas with you in the hope that it might spark similar awakenings among some of you who may have the same “condition” I had been suffering from for almost four decades.
Every year around Christmas I would go into an inexplicable depression of sorts. Most years I would be able to “ignore” the depression with distractions of the event of Christmas and the accompanying activities. However, on the odd occasion when I would spend Christmas on my own, or alone with a significant other, I’d literally spend the day (Christmas Day) alone in my room with a good book.

The very next day I would snap out of the depression just as quickly and easily as it had occurred; much to the anger and confusion of the significant others. I think I’ve actually ended more than one relationship on Christmas Day over the years and when I think back on it, I honestly don’t think there was a valid reason for it. Anyway the point is I finally discovered the reason for the depression a few years ago when my mom told me about her pregnancy with me. I was born four days after Christmas and when she was carrying me, she had to endure an extremely traumatic domestic situation with my dad just before I was born. It really was an intensely stressful time for her and clearly that stress and trauma found its way through the placenta and into my psyche. I’ve since read up about the phenomenon and its well- documented that the foetus reacts to its surrounds while forming in the womb. Anyway, since I realised the cause of my depression it was really easy for me to beat it and rise above it and the last couple-a Christmases have been fun and joyous as I guess it should be. I’m really looking forward to this one too. Well, just thought this might spark something among any of you who find yourself with inexplicable mood swings around certain times of the year. Could well be about something that happened while you were under construction… Have an awesome Christmas and a safe holiday season.
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When I started dating again after the birth of my first child I found myself hesitating. I’m not talking about a consensual shag with someone you’re probably never going to see again. I’m talking about meeting someone you find attractive and wish to pursue a possible relationship with. It’s a weird situation, well it was for me anyway. I’ve never had any second thoughts about who to get involved with. Like most guys, you’re attracted to a woman, you go out on a few dates, you swop bodily fluids for a while and then you both expose your true selves and boom it’s either over or it’s the start of something wonderful. After Hannah’s arrival I started looking at potential dates in a whole new light. What would my daughters think of her?

Children are born with innate intuition where they are able to sense good and bad just by being in the same room with someone. And as they get older they loose this sense or rely on it less. I experienced Hannah’s sense of it in a very real way one day when I was visiting a lady friend whom I was considering having a relationship with (this was about two years after Hannah was born). The neighbour had a delightful little girl of about 4-years-old, and soon Hannah was playing outside with her. Not long after, I heard Hannah let out an almighty scream. I rushed outside to find her screaming at a man who was trying to help her up after she had tripped and fallen. This was extremely bizarre to me, ‘cos the guy who was trying to help her was her new friend’s dad. He seemed like a perfectly respectable sort.

 But Hannah wouldn’t go near him and she screamed like a banshee (again very unusual for her) until I picked her up. A few weeks later I discovered that the guy who was trying to help her was indeed a nasty piece of work who was involved in violent criminal activities. A few months later his wife left him after discovering that he had been having an affair with her best friend. Suddenly Hannah’s reaction made sense. She got on pretty well with the lady I was dating and we had some fun times. Since then I’ve been very alert and aware of Hannah’s reaction when in the presence of adults, men or women. She’ll either rush up to them and jump into their arms, or politely greet and steer clear of them. Her reaction has often informed my decision and it’s been spot on about 95% of the time. Though I’ve noticed that as she’s gotten older, her reaction is sometimes tempered with her own agenda.
But when they’re two-years-old they aren’t able to include the conniving factor yet. Maddison is easy, she just ignores you like dirt if she doesn’t like you. It’s a bit embarrassing when I have to remind her to greet so and so and she calmly replies “I don’t want to dad” and walks on. So? Have you picked up on your kid’s intuition yet?

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When you cross the threshold from boy to man, the magical world of the female form is exposed. Suddenly, your best female friend, or the neighbour’s daughter whom you’ve never really noticed before, becomes the only thing you focus on, and you have no idea why. Female bottoms and breasts are suddenly the only thing you can focus on. And when you eventually find a woman who will allow you to see her naked body, the magic and breathtaking beauty that is the female form will entrance and hold you captive forever. Until, that is, the baby invades and stakes its claim on what has up to now been your sole domain. I remember stroking Hannah’s mom’s belly during birth, looking down, and when Hannah’s little head started squeezing out, only then, at that exact moment, did the reality of the birth actually kick in. But I digress, suddenly, subconsciously, the holy of holies, the temple of Venus, and its twin peaks, took on a whole new dimension. I saw my daughter arrive through the holy of holies, she immediately found her way to the glorious peaks and seemingly set up camp there for the next few months.

The thing is, as a guy, you don’t quite realise what’s happening. You just have a gnawing realisation that something’s not quite right in this picture. Thankfully nature has designed it so that mom probably would not be able to make love for a while after the birth.  During this time I found myself fascinated by the immense love I felt for my babies, yet feeling a slight grudge they had turned the erotic beauty of the female form, and especially its most erogenous zones, into mere functional outlets for food, and birth.

Eventually the male primal need to reclaim lost territory and rediscover the warm pleasures of the flesh becomes too much and you, gently test the waters… My advice is to do it with the lights off for the first few times. It has nothing to do with mom though, she was still as beautiful and gorgeous as before birth. It’s a male psychological thing, that we guys need to confront, or so it was for me anyway. There, in the darkness, I rediscovered the magic of Eros, touching, feeling and exploring once again the exquisite beauty and sexuality of the female form. In true primal male fashion of course, you would only need to do it once with the lights off. Thereafter the psychological boundary is shattered forever and like all good men, you can happily continue the reclamation process with mom like nothing ever happened. Yes we men are indeed simple creatures, and only some of us are afflicted by the odd emotional conundrum every now and again. For me this was one such time. I wonder… am I the only one?

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Hannah and I have this habit, which was formed since she was old enough to fit into her car seat. We chat continuously while I drive. And sometimes our conversations would be interjected by typical single daddy comments like “move your slow butt out of the way you moron,” or “woah what a yummy-mummy”. I know, it’s pitiful, but single dad’s don’t get much time, or even have much energy to date. So you learn to appreciate eye-candy whenever it comes your way. In my case it’s usually when I pick the kids up from pre-school. Recently, I fetched Hannah from school first, then we set off across town to collect Maddi from pre-school. Both Hannah and Maddi are by now very familiar with the term “yummy-mummy” and while Hannah at age 8, knows full-well its meaning and the tone of my usage, Maddison is all innocence in her application of said term. What made me blush unashamedly, and lose my gift of speech completely that day, is that she chose a particularly yummy-mummy to embarrass me with. There is a young mom at Maddi’s preschool that literally causes all the dad’s to stop what they’re doing, when they arrive in the mornings or afternoons, stand quite still for the duration of her presence, and we all sigh a collective hmmmm after she’s left. The reason for this effect she has on all of us, is the exquisite way her derriere occupies the lucky pair of jeans or dress she may be wearing. On the day in question, I happened to slot in behind her en-route through the security gates at the pre-school, holding Maddi on one arm and her bag in the other. “Look daddy,” Maddi, with all the gusto of a knowledgeable 2-year-old, “it’s the yummy-mummy,”. Somewhat pre-occupied with said yummy-mummy’s sashaying posterior, I say “What’s that baby?” At this point yummy-mummy has turned around to, it seems also, have a look what exactly is a yummy-mummy. “Here daddy, the yummy-mummy,” complete with accusing finger pointing directly at miss fancy pants.
Instant dry mouth afflicts me, my temperature soars to somewhere between damn-is-it-hot-in-here or have I just descended in to the devil’s embrace. Maddi giggled, clearly sensing my chagrin. Yummy-mummy, bless her heart, just smiled a knowing smile and made the whole thing go away in an instant. The lesson learned, and to be remembered by all single dads is that kids really do say the darndest things and at the most inappropriate times too.

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