I.O.W.A

I once heard a joke that Iowa stands for Idiots Out Wandering Around. My personal experiences add homage to this, as I was once ridiculed by my peers for getting lost in the only new development in a town of 2,000 people. In my defense, there were a lot of houses that looked the same, and all had large 4x4 pickups and a moderately priced sedan parked in front of the two stall garages. I had never seen a dead end road before, and the cul-de-sac invention was reserved to the bigger towns that I had not yet seen in life. I used to take my complete lack of common sense or nautical judgement as a burden of birth and with a lot of shame, but then again we all have to start somewhere, and I haven't seen to many dead end roads sense I began searching the one less traveled. Perhaps I was just as the joke states, as I still have no idea as to why I was wandering around in the development in the first place or idiotically why I chose to call and ask my friend for directions on how to escape. Perhaps the joke has merit for more than me, or in the recognition of its validity I am just the biggest idiot and wanderer to ever be born in the state that carries the slogan, "A Place to Grow."

As I drink Left over wine, that was to be thrown out by a renter of the property I manage in the seeming paradise of Costa Rica, something that I have now coined a phrase for, "left over Delicacies, I remember exactly where I started, the roots of life that I have tried desperately to entangle myself from, yet seem to always implant me with the right demeanor to survive in any setting with almost anyone I have met from over 60 countries surrounding the globe. The key is sincerity of self, and the ability to make fun of yourself when yourself is taking life to seriously.


Pedals Of Love that Bite us in the Ass.


I have always been a lot more insecure then most would assume. I remember my first sexual experience being halted due to a complete lack of confidence at the ripe age of 16 when all my friends had already received the stinky pinky and I was just discovering the balls to test the waters south of the border. The somewhat unknown and promiscuous 15 year old was ripe and ready, and when the panties dropped I had a hard time exploring the land down under due to the grass on the playing field being absent. I never read a manual, but I had heard conversations of friends and knew that Jungle Bush was the fur that guided you home, when it was absent, confusion set in, to much time elapsed and the eager beaver wiggled away thinking I was just a tease. Instead of persisting at a later date, I went to my basketball game, had an off night, and broke up with the girl the next day. The things that girl could have taught me if only I had persisted. Instead I fumbled, and her reputation was known from that date on as the girl who's grass didn't grow due to a well played playground. Bless her thee, oh teenage girl ahead of her time, If I were the man I was now, i would have merely asked for a mulligan and tee'd up again instead of yelling fore and clubbing down your reputation in the process.

Inevitably I was the one that paid the price of mental torment. Insecurity got the best of me and for two more years I waited to test the sails on the canoe again. I remember some of my female classmates questioning my sexuality and reason for ignoring their pleas for high school sexscapades, i always ignored them, leaving them to wander if I truly was light in the pants or If I just thought I was to good to play around in a pool that others had dived into before.

When all is said in done I got the best end of the deal as I settled down with a girl who knew nothing of my lack of experience and was able to try again with more insight and desire to succeed. The first attempts were horrible.

As the idiot wanderer I set out to find a nice country road and a place to heat up a winter night with my new girlfriend from a rivaling school and was bound to break the vagina spell that had cursed me. Car was running, jams were lubricating our senses, and I was ready to shift things into high gear. My pants were down, so were hers and then the lights came from miles away. Paranoia is a bitch especially when you were as horny and image conscious as I was. No all American boy, wants to be found pants down with his all American boy rivals sister bumping uglies, so I quickly reached for the other stick gear and proceeded to back my car directly into the ditch that I had so cleverly defined as my place to loose all distractions and inhibitions. I jumped out of my passenger seat, pants at ankles, knee deep in icy water ditch to discover that my car literally only had two wheels resting on the ground. I was in a lot of headlines in High School and this was not one I wanted to put in the scrap book.

I left the girl there, I ran a country mile to a friends house, observed a large chain in the back of there pick up truck, ran back to my car and waited for the next lights that passed. I was actually thinking of stealing the truck itself, but opted against, and rejoined my love to wait.

The first car that stopped was two kids from Alburnett, that were in my girlfriends grade and who I had known through sports. The first thing out of there mouth was. "Holy Shit Corey Hahn, and Laurie Sabers", what the hell are you two doing out here. I through my hands up and defeat, gave him a wink and asked for mercy. He complied and we were out, yet I still had not broke free as the mood was finished, and my first time would have to wait for better circumstances.

I thought I had found these circumstances a month or so later when I had discovered a campground that was off the beaten path that classmates commonly used to throw keggers that I had seldom attended. A shame, but to be discussed in a different segment. Sex was discussed, I was in love, and I was ready to explode. Approaching sunset night, Laurie and I headed out to the spot and things were sure to undress into my first love making experience. We parked the car, headed outside, and were instantly engaged in what was supposed to be the lost of innocence. Half way into the process of seduction, we were ready to become one as she was beautifully laid out on the hood of my car, and my engine was running. I waited to long as there was a rapid onslaught of mosquitoes that starting attacking every bare naked inch of both of our bodies. I ran for cover, screaming and whaling my arms, trying to save myself and self alone. She didn't take the bulk of the attack, but to this day I can still remember her counting the 56 different mosquito bites that laced my ass, legs, and genital region. She laughed to the sight of her mere 12 war wounds which failed to appease me, but her whispering "all good things come to those who wait", certainly did.

And they did, and with great irony. I remember in little league when I was around ten and my grandfather figure coach pulled us away from a triple header tournament, right before the championship game. He went into a long winded speech on the birds and the bees, yet the point was simple. Respect women, above all else, and never belittle them to the point of taking there virginity in the back seat of your car. Perhaps his timing was off, as we were only ten, and too much time and too many hormones had built up to prevent the attempts. In contemplation of this many years later, I now understand that all things happen when they are supposed to and not when you want or believe you need them too.

The night Finally came, the parents were out of town, the girl was unexpecting and the mood was set. Jewel playing in the background, flowers on the table, and Her favorite meal of fettuccine Alfredo in a package, over top of deep fat fried chicken patties prepared for her upon arrival. These details unlike the rest, our sacred to me, and I will never forget the women, the time, and the place when I was in love with a girl, she was in love with me, and I made love for the right reasons in the right setting with out the pressure to conquer, only the conquering pressure of timing.


So much time has elapsed and many expereinces can be remembered. I wish I could say that my early attempts and failures at love making and the perfect scenario that innocence was lost in have always been added to with a sense of luck and maturity but I have often times regressed along the way. I lost a bit of myself when I was alone and desperate and got involved in the import, export business of beautiful women from states far away from home. I have dabbled in one night affairs and resolve to exist in the affairs of one night that have almost lasted forever each time I existed in them. I am not afraid or fearful of loving in the moment, or waiting an eternity to love the illusion as defined in my heart. I've loved women who I thought loved me back. When they hurt me, I slept with there roommate. Time heals when you begin to understand that we are all in the spider web of learning how we want to be loved and the silky strings that attach these lessons are sometimes broken along the way to returning the favor. I manipulated my way into escape from women who have truly taken on the difficult chore of loving me only to be alone even further away and in search of the the type of love that will never give me the chance to push it away. I've watched my mother struggle with the same type of men, and their ignorance in old age to push away the greatest lover I have ever known. I have been in love when I wasn't supposed to be. I've fathered a child with a young girl who doesn't speak my language, and despite my willingness to love, and wait, the flower has refused to open, or the water I can provide her doesn't quench the thirst she needs to blossom. But I must remember that I am constantly growing, and perhaps the failures that we blame ourselves for, our not ours alone, just pedals to be plucked from the dandelions of our youth and beyond. She loves me, She loves me not, I love me, I love me not, This Time loves me, This Time loves me not, yet but always.


TO BE CONTINUED....