It’s another Monday and the deadline for this column is looming. I’m wondering what in the world I’m going to say this week, trying to keep up the clever machine and fearful that I’m going to draw a big, fat blank as if there’s just no grist for the mill. Here’s the writer’s dilemma: not having anything to say when you have to produce.
Now, as anyone who knows me is aware, I’m rarely at a loss for words. In fact, I’m quite sure that more than a few of my friends would like to me to learn the joys of silence. It’s just that this past week I’ve had something rolling around in my mind and I was wondering if this were the moment to bring it up or not, hoping that some other idea would miraculously spring to mind. Well that hasn’t happened, so I’m going to have to go with the thought that I have been nursing since last I wrote to you. Please bear with me because ‘we’re going to go there’ and you may want a return ticket!
When bisexuality is mentioned, there does tend to be someone who jumps on the notion that all bisexuals are sexually voracious predators who are dissatisfied with only one partner and only capable of jumping from person-to-person, making unending sport of lust and debauchery — as if bisexuals had more time than and didn’t have to earn a living like anybody else!
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