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The Care and Feeding of David Starsky
By M&M
Or, how to love a crazy but terrific man without going insane yourself.
If he’s eaten super spicy food, insist he really brushes his teeth, lips, and tongue and eats some ice cream before getting near my, as he calls it, ‘morogenous’ zones. A man’s got to protect himself.
If it’s fried, he’ll love it. (I never knew there were so many ways to fry potatoes, kale, bok choy, tofu, and more.)
Keep up the illusion that green beans are an aphrodisiac. (Some of the best use of my undercover talents was convincing Starsky of this.) Fry them on occasion when you’re particularly “hungry.”
Encourage him to at least try “hoot owl beaks and butterfly bones” or whatever he’s calling the healthful foods I eat. Especially if they’re fried. (You’d think a guy that puts grape jelly and spicy mustard on a kielbasa would be more adventuresome when it comes to new culinary experiences. And considering the other things he’s tasted with that tongue, you’d think a banana chip would be easy!)
Avoid this Major Hazard: Keep your hands away from him when he’s eating chocolate and don’t make any fast moves. Only reach out if he offers to share, but do it quickly before he changes his mind. Starsky can smell any chocolate. Even if it’s in the freezer. Wrapped in 2 layers of foil. Stashed in a bag of beets. If cocoa becomes a black market commodity he’s got a career at border check. On the other hand, I’ll eat chocolate just to entice him into an intense kissing session. And I do mean intense.
When Starsk takes out one of those big kosher pickles that he gets from the deli and starts “eating” it in front of you and says stuff like, “Look, babe! It makes my lips pucker and my tongue feel bumpy. Hmmm. What can a guy do with puckered lips and a bumpy tongue?”, it’s the better part of valor just to unbutton and unzip because you both know exactly what’s coming next.
Hanukkah surprise this year? Ask his mother for Bubbe’s sour cherry pierogi recipe, then ask Huggy for his help and kitchen in making it in exchange for actually paying our beer tab.
Let him express his inner oral fixation as often as he likes. In fact, encourage it (I’m not stupid). This is something we both benefit from. Have knee pads or towels handy if a long session is anticipated. (That ‘double thick lux-feel’ area rug in the living room was a wise investment, hunh?)
Accept the fact he’s a blanket hog, so keep a spare under the bed. Better still, snuggle up against him. He’s like a furnace anyway.
Keep a bottle of Windex and paper towels in the bottom of both bedside tables. Amazing how all those mirrors get streaked at least once a day. I’m not complaining.
Keep a variety of lubes handy. He likes variety. Consider investing in the companies that make K-Y, Astroglide, etc. Maybe learn how to make nut oils (no pun intended), especially since they could serve multiple purposes.
There are four times every year when all I can do is listen to him, even if he’s not saying anything -- his father’s and Terry’s birthdays and anniversaries of their deaths.
Start planning where to hide everything before buying his presents. That “spider nest” spot behind the attic fan will only fit so much and last year proves I can’t trust Rosie anymore. (Who knew a sweet little girl from a great home would ruthlessly play both sides for a profit? Kids these days!) Try stashing various chocolates (remember to hide an M&M in your navel!) around the house to put him off the scent of Scotch tape. Find alternative sites. The office at Chez Helene? The evidence lock-up? Maybe see if the morgue has a spare locker? Solitary at San Quentin? Mars?
Watch sci-fi or western movies and TV shows with him. It’s amazing how fast he can grasp a logic or philosophical concept that initiates a fascinating conversation that does get steered into the twisted at times (both are quite enjoyable).
-- Accept with just enough grumping and bah-humbugging when Starsky suggests a Star Wars Play Date (assume the role of Prince Lay-im with a modicum of grace and don’t roll your eyes too much when Starsky plays Handsey Solo) to make him think you’re doing this only to make him happy. Don’t let on you love this! So go rent Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back while he heads for Mama D’s Bakery and Soul Food Eatery for those really big cinnamon rolls that he eats out the backs so they’ll fit onto my ears. (He nibbles on them so sensuously while we watch the movies but I lose it when he cleans around and in my ears… Thanks to this, I now grow wood when I smell cinnamon. Not necessarily a bad thing; just inconvenient in public.)
-- When he starts to brag about the size and prowess of his unique “lightsaber with dual injection boosters,” bring him down to earth with, “Aren’t you a little short for a storm trooper?” He always has to prove it (can’t believe he hasn’t caught on to this ploy), so have the lube handy.
On those days when I feel lost or useless, all I need to do is look into his eyes and know that isn’t true. He truly keeps me sane, and much more.
Basically, do anything for him, whether he asks or not.
the end
November 2020
