The Magic of Winnie the Pooh.

Before I begin this post I just want to mention that I used to be a power lifting and martial arts champion.

In other words I lifted really heavy things and punched people in the heads for trophies, and sometimes cash prizes.

Those are very, very manly things, I am sure you will agree.

Did you get that manly part?

Okay then, on to Winnie the Pooh.

In those emotionally overwhelming  moments when I first held my newborn daughter, I made a decision.

Well the first thing I thought was that somebody needed to take her and hose her off a little because she was covered in goo and it was making me gag a little, but the second thing that I thought was that I was going to make sure my daughter was exposed to the best things that life had to offer, which included reading to her from the classics of literature. (I actually wrote about that in an earlier post.)

So the very first book that I bought for us to read together was this one.

 

As you can no doubt tell from the tears in the cover and the weathered overall look, this book has been read, and reread, many, many times.

However I was in such a hurry to start reading the "classics" to my new born daughter that I literally purchased this book, which is NOT the watered down Disney version by the way, just days after her birth.

Though I was completely convinced that my daughter would have the IQ of a genius, it did occur to me that the current level of her comprehension might make this unsuitable for bedtime reading for at LEAST a few more weeks.

So to prepare her for the first step on her long literary adventure I bought this:

I know, isn't that adorable?

However in the baby instruction book that I bought, (because for some reason she did not come with one), it said that my daughter's eyes may not be able to focus on the mobile very well for the first few months, so I decided to buy one of these for her to sleep on:

And, of course, one of these:

Only the original Pooh bear would suffice for my daughter.

(You don't think I overdid it do you?)

So long story short, my daughter was raised around Winnie the Pooh, and Winnie the Pooh paraphernalia, and yes, she grew up LOVING the Winnie the Pooh stories. (So yes parents OCCASIONALLY the things you want your children to do they will actually do. Remember, I said occasionally!)

So let's fast forward about twenty three years into the future, to two days ago.

There I was surfing the net, looking for adventure movies full of action, and violence (and hopefully some tasteful nudity), to watch this upcoming weekend, when I happened to notice that this movie was also playing at the local theater.

Have you ever smelled a smell, or heard a sound, and suddenly found yourself transported to a different time and place? A distant, happy, nearly forgotten place which seems to envelope you in warm, soothing memories that quickly dissipate just as you find yourself reaching out to touch them?

Suddenly all thoughts of superheroes, giant transforming robots, and immature scatological comedies completely left my mind and all I wanted was to watch this movie.  This animated, G rated, Saturday matinee friendly movie.

Did I mention I used to be a bouncer at a strip club?  Well I was!

But you know I didn't REALLY want to see this move.........alone.

In fact there was only one way I would actually go through with it and humiliate myself by sitting in a sticky theater with a bunch of over caffeinated preschoolers. And let's face it there was NO WAY my too busy to even text her father back, adult daughter was going to want to watch this movie!

Right?

But I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask, so I did.

"So Honey, I happened to see that there was this new, probably completely screwed up, Winnie the Pooh movie out.  And I was wond..."

"Oh yeah, I was going to ask YOU if you wanted to go to that! I think it looks really good!  Do you remember all of that Winnie the Pooh stuff you bought me?  I kept it and still have all of it in storage! (You do?) So can we go tomorrow?"

"Sure.....I mean....if that is what YOU want? I guess I could find the time."

So it looked like we were going after all.

The only potential obstacle to our plan was that the movie started at 10:15 in the morning, which was the only time I could make it due to work commitments, and my daughter is NOT an early riser. (That kids, is what is known as a HUGE understatement!)

So the next day I decided to start waking my impossible to rouse daughter a whole hour before the movie was supposed to start. (Imagine ripping a giant tree trunk out of the ground, only then imagine that when you turn your back it replants itself and makes you start all over, and you will have SOME idea of what it is like to get my daughter out of bed before noon.)

However right when I had a couple of pots and pans to bang together in my hands, and was walking up to her bedroom door, I noticed that she was already in the bathroom getting ready. (Yeah I admit I had an "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" moment there.)

Before I knew it she was ready to go and we were on our way. On our way to see Winnie the Pooh.  The matinee showing.  My twenty four year old daughter and I. Why was I doing this again?

On the way we managed to catch up on all of the things that we are both too busy to discuss while living in the same house and sleeping only TWO DOORS AWAY FROM EACH OTHER! (Did I mention that she  texts me from inside her room when she wants to tell me something, rather than open the damn door and say "Hey Dad, I have something to tell you?" Well I am mentioning it now.)

When we got to the theater I told her she could get anything to eat she wanted, my treat.

So she did.

Thirty five dollars later (When did theaters start serving Filet Mignon?), we were ready to find our seats.

As anticipated the smallish theater was full of sticky little ankle biters that had apparently just broken out of the cotton candy factory, and were so hopped up on sugar I swear I saw their eyeballs vibrating.  But once the movie started they settled down to only intermittent screams of "Stop touching me!" and the occasional maniacal giggle.

The movie was okay, nothing special.  To be honest I liked the old Disney version a little better, but it was relatively entertaining. You know, for a cartoon.

But just as I was about to lean over and whisper my disappointment into my daughter's ear, I heard her laugh.

It swear it sounded different than her usual laugh, yet also...familiar.

So I glanced over.

It was just for a moment.  One bittersweet, precious, magical moment.

But it was enough.

Japanese TV: Japanese Obama

The TGIF Sex Blog [Brujerias, Magic, and Love Potions]

¡Hola! Everybody...
Yesterday we lost another sexual icon, the self-proclaimed “sex kitten” Eartha Kitt. Rest in peace, dearest and thank you for the sexual life force you so freely shared while you walked among us.

Ladies, if you didn’t receive a gift from me, it means you didn’t give me a BJ this past year. Sorry, but yeah, I roll like that. But not to worry! You have all of next year to earn your gift! LOL

Speaking of which... this is the last Sex Blog of the year...

* * *

-=[ Brujerias, Magic, and Love Potions ]=-

“True magic is the high knowledge of the more subtle powers that have not yet been accepted by science because the methods of examination that have been applied are not yet sufficient for their understanding and use, although the laws of magic are equivalent to all official sciences of the world.”

-- The Science of Magic

I have dated my share of brujas (witches). In fact, if I don’t date another bruja in my life, it will be too soon. And I don’t mean bruja in the euphemistic sense -- I mean real witches.

My ex-wife was/ is a bruja in the Puerto Rican espiritismo sense, and I have dated Santeria priestesses as well as Wiccans and even one Haitian Voudun practitioner. It’s not that I seek out these women, rather, they seem to find me. I have been told by more than a few people that my spirit guide is supposed to be one bad-assed muthafucka in the spirit world -- very powerful. I had one girlfriend who was a witch whose mother was a witch. When she introduced me to her mother, her mother ran screaming from me! LOL

Let me state right out that I am neither a believer nor disbeliever in the hereafter. To me, discussion of such topics is a huge waste of time. I have a very Buddhist take on such discussions: it doesn’t matter.

However, I have seen and experienced too many incidents to be cynical about all this. In fact, science tells us that the vast majority of reality is hidden from us -- undetectable and immeasurable by our current methods of measurement. I forget the estimate, but I think that more than 90% of reality is hidden from us. So, if you’re one of those strict empiricists, who dismisses anything they can’t see, then you are a blind fool.

Anyway!

Historically, the extent to which we have gone to put love spells on the objects of our affections is extreme. Potions and charms to make others fall in love are among the oldest recorded forms of magic. Brujas and Love Spells have been around since our ancestors dwelled in caves. The first recorded love spells have been found in Paleolithic rock paintings, but the first recorded love spell was used by men in ancient Sumera. They mixed the milk and fat from holy cows in a ceremonial green bowl, and sprinkled the mixture onto the breast of a young girl, who was meant not only to become sexually available but to follow the man who had applied the spell. In much of the ancient Mediterranean and Near East, it was believed that the liver was the seat of the passions, and the liver of a young person who was killed while full of passionate arousal made for a potent love potion, as well as an effective aphrodisiac.

The ancient Greeks preferred using a wide variety of animal parts and organs to make love potions, including calves’ brains, wolves tails, snakes’ bones, the blood of doves, and the feathers of screech owls.

Some potions were highly toxic, causing the Romans (who adopted magic recipes wholesale from the Greeks) to outlaw love potions.

Today, Trobriand Islanders are encouraged from an early age to gain sexual self-knowledge. To the Trobrianders, magic is no different from the process of falling in love. Young men and women will court a person with spells that not only make themselves more attractive, but also carry enticing dreams of themselves into the beloved’s head. Trobriand Islanders greatly value grace and physical beauty, and use a number of magic spells to enhance their attractiveness on ceremonial occasions. Perhaps, considering our lucrative cosmetics industry, we are not that different from the Trobrianders...

The Greeks, when confronted with someone who would not respond to their advances, would roast images supposedly representing their objects of affection over a low fire. They believed that people thus represented would become warmed with love. The point was to make the image soft but not to melt it, as this would break the spell on the beloved.

The most common method to make someone fall in love is to gain control over him or her by acquiring an intimate object of theirs, such as nail clippings or hair. On the other hand, the beloved could be brought into contact with an intimate physical part of the lover, especially a bodily secretion such as sweat, semen, or even menstrual blood. This latter practice is highly favored by practitioners of African-derived religions such as Voudun and Santeria. I know some Caribbean women (especially the Haitians) who would use menstrual blood as a way of keeping their men. So, if you’re eating spaghetti sauce prepared by a caribeña, you should think twice. Besides, Caribbeans don’t know how to prepare spaghetti to save their lives. LOL!

One Santeria spell reveals a postmodern twist on how various influences converge to create culture. It is a fast-food love potion: “Prepare a hamburger patty. Steep in your own sweat. Serve it to person desired.”

A popular spell in Scotland had the lover draw a circle on a wafer with blood from the ring finger. The was then consecrated, and half of it eaten by the person casting the spell, the other half administered to the beloved. This ceremony not only ensured not only that the object of affection became receptive, but that the passion of the lover did not wane.

Not all love magic was concerned with acquiring, or controlling a love interest. Much of love magic was full of medical advice ranging from cures for male impotence (Viagra can be said to be a modern form of love magic), to formulas for enlarging a man’s jade stalk (penis), or tightening up the jade gate (vagina) of a woman who had become enlarged. There were cures for women who experienced pain from excessive intercourse enjoyed by their overly sexual husbands.

Love magic is found in some form or another almost everywhere, but it is less developed in cultures where sex is treated in an open and direct manner. Perhaps the reason for this is that there isn’t a need to control sexual behavior in cultures were sexual advances are rarely rejected.

Love,

Eddie

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