in time for mother's day...

[treelizard]

Good ol' Tom and his one track mind...

How about some empathy for the single dads? Respect or appreciation for the multitasking abilities of working single parents regardless of gender?

It's not Father's Day yet!

[Tant01]

My bad...

It's not Father's Day yet!

D'oh... Sorry! I'll crawl back under my rock now with the rest of the men.

[Tom Yum]

D'oh... Sorry! I'll crawl back under my rock now with the rest of the men.

LOL. I'll run back to the forest (I should be harder to see)

[Tom Yum]

F'in* men!!

That's one helluva gerund...

[Tom Yum]

If you meet a hot, single mom make her feel special and appreciated.

Cook her a nice dinner, take her to go see a movie (of her choice...afterall, it is mother's day), then go out for some dancing. Come home, turn out the lights, put on some candles, put on some nice music (her favorite song of course) and give her a nice massage then drive her back home.

I know, I know that's unoriginal and boring - but hey, I'm tryin'

[treelizard]

D'oh... Sorry! I'll crawl back under my rock now with the rest of the men.

LOL.

Okay, okay, here's a poem by CPE... I won't post the second part (too depressing) but this is the happy one.

Baptism:
The Good Fathers
Our bodies painted red by the dawn sky,
our hair stuck up in cockscombs from sleeping,
we two snuck down to the rowboats.
We wobbled across the lake toward the lily ponds
to gather blooms for our mothers. What a big boy!
What a big girl! they would exclaim upon our return.
We tugged up the white blush flowers with roots so long,
till the bottom of our boat was filled to the bow.
And as we turned toward home the rain began.
Then fog threw back its hood and roared; and we rowed.
The waves turned black, and we rowed.
We lost first one oar and then the other; and we cried out,
Our thin night clothes stamped with cowboys and stars
went transparent like tattoos all over our pale blue
bodies,
and we cried out, Mother! Father! God! Help us!

As Death put its hands over our eyes, suddenly the fog
was pierced. Leaping and bucking came
a battered wooden boat filled with four phantoms,
rowing and rowing like madmen,
their faces distorted by rain and rage, eight oars
slugging the roiling waters over and over,
and they were calling out our names, bellowing
over the storm, Hold on! Hold on! We are coming for
you!
Vessel crashed into vessel, and big wet hands flailed
till two wraiths of the lake rolled into our boat.
They hooked oars into iron stocks, tethered the boats,
and we crouched beneath the phantom rowers’ arms
as they rowed, cursing words we did not know,
as they rowed through the heavy drapes of rain and
noise,
and with every hit of swash, lilies spewed overboard,
floating and drowning in the spume behind us.

And when at last our vessels ran into the soft slough,
and the rain went sideways,
the gray-faced phantoms grabbed us up, snagging
long ropey roots and green-heart leaves
and dangling white lilies as well.
With us in arms they strove up the howling hill,
holding us hard against their bony breasts,
shielding our faces with their hands.
And then finally, in the sudden heat from the open door
they bowed their heads like horses, offering us
held out like armfuls of heavy wild bouquets,
-- two trembling children covered with broken
flowers --
delivered into the arms of the weeping women.

When I dream of that time so long ago, though in years
intervening, there would be at least one long year
of silence, one of forgetfulness, and
one of forgiveness, even so -- in that one despond
of fog and rain and waves, these flares remain lit --
the men
who rowed the boat,
the men
who climbed the hill,
the men
who carried us toward home …
the uncles, the brothers, the fathers
who despite their imperfections,
did not forsake The Heart of God --
that is, a child stranded in the storm --
these souls, all of them, now anointed forever
with the waters from the tempests they have braved,
now anointed forever by the fragrance of the wild lilies
they have, with great effort, carried up from out of the
dark …
-- Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Colorado

[Tant01]

Sweet!

LOL.

Okay, okay, here's a poem by CPE... I won't post the second part (too depressing) but this is the happy one.

...the fathers
who despite their imperfections,
did not forsake The Heart of God --
....


-- Clarissa Pinkola Estés
Colorado

+That was awesome. Thanks for sharing.

You never cease to amaze!

Makes me wonder what's next!

[Tant01]

Quote:
Originally Posted by Tom Yum
If you meet a hot, single mom make her feel special and appreciated.
__________________



Cook her a nice dinner, take her to go see a movie (of her choice...afterall, it is mother's day), then go out for some dancing. Come home, turn out the lights, put on some candles, put on some nice music (her favorite song of course) and give her a nice massage

I know, I know that's unoriginal and boring - but hey, I'm tryin'

From my perspective I find the traditions of men (mankind) most revolting. Why do we have a "Mother's Day"? To imply that it should be some significant event? Or to make up for the rest of the days in the year that we neglect the fair gender?

You know? We are hardly worthy to wash the feet of a fine woman...

Adonijah.

[treelizard]

Do you feel the same way about Veteran's Day?

[Tant01]

Do you feel the same way about Veteran's Day?

Do I need a special day set aside each year to remind me of the value of military service? No.

It seems sad that we can't offer something every day to those we care for...

[treelizard]

It seems sad that we can't offer something every day to those we care for...

That would get expensive.

[Tant01]

They say it's the thought that counts...

[Tom Yum]

It seems sad that we can't offer something every day to those we care for...

Would they really appreciate it?

If you kept showering someone with gifts, praise etc. on a daily basis, they may come to expect it or become less appreciative - diminshing returns kicking in.

[Tant01]

I think they might...

Would they really appreciate it?

If you kept showering someone with gifts, praise etc. on a daily basis, they may come to expect it or become less appreciative - diminshing returns kicking in.

In the words of A. Lincoln (1809-1865)

"Whatever woman may cast her lot with mine, should any ever do so, it is my intention to do all in my power to make her happy and contented; and there is nothing I can imagine that would make me more unhappy than to fail in the effort".


It is less about satisfying the desire for material things or feeding the ego and more about genuine fondness for the happiness of others. Love is not selfish. What good comes from ONE day of giving with a goal of seduction in mind?

It may provide some temporary pleasure but it is empty and vain when compared to true love...

(In my humble opinion)

[treelizard]

What about birthdays?

People like celebrating things in different ways. Of course patriotism does not equal fireworks and barbecues (for example) but what's wrong with different days acknowledging things? I don't think it's a big deal. And I wouldn't agree that the goal of Mother's Day is seduction, since it's usually celebrated by people and their moms. Also I think it's a false dichotomy, saying you have to choose between "true love" and celebrating days. Why not both?