The Paragon – Chapter 6 – DiPinto Guitars

A month or so later I was chatting with my coworker at my job, (The one who’s a musician and knows more about guitars and rock than I do) and he and one of the other guys, (Who’s the drummer in a local band called, Mesh) and they told me I should visit Dipinto Guitars up on Girard Avenue in Fishtown. I decided that on one of my epic walking tours around the city, I’d stop in there and check it out. They both said it was a great store and the owner was really cool.

A month or so went by and it was one of the rare warm days, and I was off and decided to make the journey up to the store. I went in and met the owner. I introduced myself and gave him a little of my history. This store was probably the best music store I had set foot inside in Philly. He had lots of great guitars, basses, and amps around the store. He had a nice collection of vintage instruments and effects pedals.

I had been out walking for a few hours and asked if I could use his bathroom. He obliged and took me to the back room that led to a flight of stairs to the basement.

Even this guy’s bathroom was cool.

Just the coolest bathroom in Philly by far. It was like stepping into my past 40 years ago when I owned a few of those posters and rock band mirrors that I had won on the boardwalk in Wildwood as a teenager!

We chatted about his history and it was quite impressive. He’s played in several bands throughout the years and still played locally when he could. He also made and customized his own line of instruments. Like Paul McCartney and Jimi Hendrix, Mr. DiPinto is a lefty. He’s supplied guitars to some other left-handed guitarists over the years. He’s also built and sold guitars for several other famous musicians, like David Bowie, Jack White, Elliot Easton, Rick Neilson, Dick Dale, Kurt Vile, and LA Guns.

Mr. DiPinto played in a band called Wastoid and opened for Judas Priest at The Electric Factory back in the early 2000s and I told him I saw his band because I was at that show!

I also noticed he had a nice collection of vintage effects pedals in a glass case under the counter. So overall this was a very cool store run by a really talented industrious guy. Most of us musicians at one time had the dream of making it big and being a famous rockstar but this man has definitely had a taste of that and now runs a successful business. So good for him!

We chatted a bit more trading stories and I wandered around the store looking for the next instrument that would maybe light me up. I really liked some of the guitars he had made himself because they all had a unique surf-rock vibe to them and had some interesting lines and aspects about them.

He has some regular stuff like these Squiers and Strats…

Some crazy heavy metal type guitars… (very cool and flashy but I already have a cool guitar. I want something that’s nothing like my Iceman.

Here are a few of his custom-made designs. Bright, fun colors with classic vintage 1960s retro lines. Those groups of 4 dots are little buttons/switches you can hit with your fingers to change the sound. They control which pickups are on or off at any time. Looks cool, but in my opinion, less is more on a guitar. Still… they’re really nice guitars. But the biggest point that would stop me from buying one would be the price. They’re custom-made. They’re going to be expensive. Most are over $1000, so I won’t be getting one of those.

But there was this one guitar that was hanging up on the wall that really caught my eye. Not so much by its red color, but the way it looked and its pedigree.

That one… second from the left with the black pickguard.

It was a Tokai which is one of several Japanese guitar makers. I don’t think they make that model anymore. It’s a used 38 Special from around 1984. I liked how it was in decent shape, had a cool body, and was from around the period when the Iceman was born.

He let me take it down from the wall and play it a bit. It played just like my Iceman but was different in appearance. It was vintage and a rare guitar. You don’t really see these models anymore. I don’t know anything about the guitar’s history but it had been taken care of. Good shape, some dings here and there, and almost no buckle rash on the back.

But here’s the thing… the guitar was over $300 and a 30-year-old instrument. Another thing that struck me was that the volume and tone knobs on it were gold in color. They looked out of place. They appeared to be the knobs from a gold top Gibson Les Paul. Why were they gold, and why were they on this guitar? What else isn’t original on this guitar?

I looked up the model later on the internet and all of the pictures I saw had black knobs that looked more appropriate for this type of guitar. I know this may seem like a small detail for an old used guitar, but I think if I purchased it I’d never be happy with it. They just looked out of place.

But it was still a cool guitar and out of all of the guitars I’d looked at and played over the last three years this one did speak to me for several reasons. The shape, the color, the vintage and it played like my own guitar. So this guitar became the frontrunner in my musical quest. But I still had a slight problem with the knobs, the age, and the condition of the guitar. Oh, and $300+ for an old guitar that wasn’t one of the famous brands, sort of left me a bit cold. But, I’m sure if I had really shown interest in buying it, Mr. DiPinto would have replaced the knobs for me.

I told him I liked the axe but I’d have to sleep on it. Years ago I was a bit reckless with my money. I was compulsive in many aspects of my life and my youth. But as I’ve aged I’ve gone the other way. I’m super thrifty now. I don’t make impulsive decisions about anything anymore. Although I’m the same man I’ve always been in spirit and heart, I’ve literally gone in the opposite direction in my personal life. My core traits and talents remain but I’m different now. I rarely drink alcohol, no longer smoke cigarettes, eat nutritious food every day, and keep myself in healthy shape through proper diet and exercise. I’m no longer a young guy anymore. I’ve finally matured and take care of myself rather than feed my compulsive needs with frivolous things.

But I’m still a bit shallow when it comes to beautiful things. I love beauty. If the guitar doesn’t please me visually I’m not interested in it. I think the same thing goes for my romantic life. I’m 60 years old. I’m out of the game. I don’t have a girlfriend, and I no longer date or even want to date anyone. I like being alone. I want to come and go as I please and not answer to anyone. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone else’s happiness but my own. It just wouldn’t be fair.

The type of woman I like and am attracted to all want to get married and have kids. I’m way past that. It wouldn’t be fair for me to get involved with a beautiful younger woman because she’ll eventually want those things. Don’t get me wrong, I totally understand it, but it wouldn’t be fair to her to be involved with me. So although I’ve enjoyed all the love and romance that has filled my past, I’m just done with it now.

I know it may sound a little shallow or picky, but if the old Tokai is a little worn and doesn’t have the right knobs on it, I just don’t really want to blow $300 plus tax on something that doesn’t please me every day. I need to feel that thing that Eric at the pawn shop told me about.

I was about to leave the store after having a lovely hour with Mr. DiPinto and his wonderful store when something caught my eye.

Over on the back wall were several guitar straps hanging together. But there was one in particular that I had never seen in real life.

Yes… the long-lost black guitar strap with the lightning bolt on it!

I maybe saw one once in Gilday’s music up in Northfield NJ back in 1980, or maybe in a rock magazine somewhere but I haven’t seen one in real life for a very long time. I always thought it would be the perfect strap for the Iceman to complete my look but I never could get my hands on one.

But here it was hanging on the wall among a variety of different types of straps. I walked over and touched it feeling a connection to the item. I could smell the leather as I checked the price tag.

$70! What? $70? for a strap? That seems outrageous. I told Mr. DiPinto the story about how I always wanted one and he told me I should get it. He makes his living selling things in his store and I really want to support local businesses but $70 seems like way too much for me to spend on a guitar strap. As much as that item means to me from a teenage fantasy perspective I can’t fathom spending that much on something like that.

So I left the store and thanked him for his time and told him I’d seriously think about the Tokai .38 Special.

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Bully

In the spring of 2021, I decided to write stories from my past. Covid had put so many restrictions on us that many of us couldn’t go out and socialize as much as we’d like to. Since I couldn’t go out and hang out with people I turned inward for content for this blog.

One of the things I did was to write stories about my childhood growing up in northeast Philly and my summers in Wildwood, New Jersey. One of the stories I wrote was about a bar band from back in 1980 in Wildwood that I liked. They were called the Dead End Kids and had a profound effect on me back then.

I had been doing some research on the subject and had come across a tribute page to one of its former members. He had gotten cancer and passed away a few years ago. When I finished the article and posted it on my blog, I decided to place a link in the group on Facebook that was a memorial to him.

This garnered a huge positive response from its members and fans of the band. It also brought this blog a truckload of traffic. So when I started to write the old stories about Philly and Wildwood I found groups on Facebook that enjoyed those subjects. In those groups were many people from my old neighborhood and classmates of mine from the past.

Again, the response was overwhelmingly positive. I liked being a voice for my peers from our collective childhoods. I think that was the first time I felt like Phicklephilly had any real value. I know I provided a lot of dating and relationship advice and stories about my own dating life, but it always seemed cheap to me. But when I wrote these stories from my heart and memories of this innocent time in all of our lives it changed something in me. I knew that I’d eventually be able to write the stories I wanted to tell from my life where the goal wasn’t to get traffic, subscribers, or ad revenue.

One of the most wonderful aspects of writing these stories was from people from my past reached out to me in the form of comments, likes, stories of their own, and phone calls. It was nice to connect with people I hadn’t spoken to or seen in over 40 years!

I realized that this blog had a greater value than I ever expected it to have when I started writing it back in 2016. Here was a forum where I could touch the hearts and minds of people from all over the country and the world. It was exciting. My heart beats in the past as a boy, beating now in the present at 60 years old, but beating just a bit faster as I shared in the joy of others through my words.

I got calls, comments, and emails from people I knew and some I never knew. It didn’t matter. We all shared the same memories and experiences.

But one of the people who reached out on Facebook was a guy I knew as a child. Now a man with a wife and kids. I wasn’t friends with him on Facebook and hadn’t seen him in over 40 years. I was never friends with him in real life either. Because back in the mid-seventies he was an arch-enemy. A bully that picked on me as a kid.

I had been picked on for years in the neighborhood and school. Happily, this all ended when I entered high school, but before that, it was a living hell. Fel’s Junior High and my neighborhood were nothing but battlegrounds to me. I wasn’t safe anywhere. Well, maybe in my room or back in the woods at the edge of my block.

The teacher’s scorn. The bullies and animals at school. My father. I was terrified of them all. All of them contributed to my anxiety and depression. (I didn’t even know what those things were back then. I was just scared and sad inside all of the time) Instead of lashing out at society I turned inward, and made art and created things. The pain was so powerful that most people that don’t have it won’t understand what it feels like. It can be a lifelong thing. But I always turned my pain and suffering into some sort of art and found solace in comic books, music, art, and sadly later…alcohol.

Alcohol is a lovely temporary bandage for suffering. It can never truly heal you, if anything, it does the opposite long term. What once makes you feel better and makes your problems vanish for a few hours, later comes back to undo all of that pleasure and turns it into pain.

I’m not writing this piece to talk about my history of self-medication. If anything my will and sense of identity never allowed it to truly own my soul. I just did it because I liked the way it made me feel and was a welcome repose from the constant pain of my life. (Mostly self-imposed by my own poor decisions) I rarely ever drink now and have lost almost all of my desire to drink even socially anymore. I’ve fixed all of the flaws in my character and feel clearer and stronger than I ever have in my life.

But getting back to people from my past, this one guy reached out to me one day on Facebook with a simple question: “Hey Charlie. Do you remember me?”

Based on my experience with this man as a child in my past, I think that most people would block a person like that. The memories are too sour to ever even speak to a person like that ever again. There’s a reason people are gone from your life. That goes for any time in your life, past or present. But social media can bring forth people from your past that you may not be prepared to ever deal with again.

Back in my day, when people were gone, they were gone for good. There was no way to ever get in touch with them again. That was fine, but with the advent of Facebook that all changed. Now you could reconnect with people from your past… good and bad.

I don’t think we’re meant to be able to do that but I could be wrong. I’m sure many people have been happily reunited with families, friends, and loved ones thanks to social media and the internet.

I waited a couple of days and thought about how I would respond to this man. I even spoke to my daughter about it. She is in her 20s and said she would immediately block a person like that and make sure they stayed banished from life forever. I agreed with her, but she didn’t know the full story of this person.

I don’t have all of the details but have gotten the story from a very reliable source.

This guy as a kid picked on me and found joy in torturing me daily. He hung out with some bigger kids on the corner and just enjoyed hunting me for sport.

I’ve lived a long time and experienced so much in my life. Happily, I’ve learned from all of my experiences. Especially the bad ones. You learn to not touch something hot when it burns your hand. I’ve known many people like that in my life. In some of the relationships, I’ve even chosen to be close to them for the wrong reasons.

My family moved away from that neighborhood back in 1979 and by then we had all grown up a bit and no one bothered me anymore. Many of the kids went to different schools for high school and many simply grew out of that bad behavior.

But not all of them. This one guy fell in with the wrong people as he got a little older. There was some sort of altercation between this man and another group of outlaws. Whatever he did or they assumed he had done against them deserved swift and brutal retribution. Now the hunter had become the hunted. They exacted their revenge upon him with a baseball bat. They beat him brutally and had I witnessed this as a teenager I would have applauded their brutality against my aggressor. It would have felt like sweet justice for the endless days of torture I had sustained at the hands of this guy.

But the beating he sustained caused some sort of catastrophic brain injury. The guy was never quite right again. As far as I know, no one was ever brought to justice for this assault. So the ultimate victim was this guy. My bully. His lifestyle had brought on his demise.

Now, at 60 years old, I had a different view of the world and its members. I thought about how  I suffered at the hands and wrath of my father and suspected this boy’s life was probably far worse than mine. My dad was a nice guy. A peaceful man who never addressed his issues, but not an inherently violent man.

But what if this kid’s dad was a monster? What if he beat this kid all the time or got drunk and did worse things in his household. Who knows what goes on behind closed doors in any home in this world. In some form, there is heartbreak in every house on the block.

I had survived the pain of my childhood and come through it a better and more evolved man. This guy on the other hand had been altered forever because of a single incident.

But was it a single incident? What happens to a child that makes him a bully? Bullying isn’t something you’re born with. Bullies are created by adults. Mostly toxic men who are emotionally and morally bankrupt as people. They’re mentally broken and download all of the bad data into the heads of their sons and make more of themselves. It’s a vicious cycle of violence and suffering.

I thought about all of this information some more and concluded.

I would respond to this man with kindness. I had forgiven people in my adult life that were far worse than anything he ever did to me as a youth. I wrote:

“I do remember you. You used to hang out with the guys up at the corner who played ball and hockey in the street. Hope you’re doing well.”

This man may remember me, but in his current mental condition, he may not remember any of the details of his past with me due to his injury. But maybe he does remember the past and what he did to me. Maybe he reached out to test the waters and see if everything was okay with me and if I remembered. I remember it all in great detail, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’m sure he’s suffered enough in this life for his choices. I’ve had a wonderful, colorful life full of joy. He may struggle with some basic functions for all I know.

I forgive him. Forgiveness is hard and that’s why most people struggle with it. But look at it this way if you can…

During the second world war, Japan flew its planes to Hawaii and bombed Pearl Harbor. Just before 8 a.m. on a Sunday, hundreds of Japanese fighter planes descended on the base, where they managed to destroy or damage nearly 20 American naval vessels, including eight battleships, and over 300 airplanes. More than 2,400 Americans died in the attack, including civilians, and another 1,000 people were wounded. The day after the assault, President Franklin D. Roosevelt asked Congress to declare war on Japan.

We later dropped not one but two atomic bombs on two of their cities to make them surrender. On August 6, 1945, an American B-29 bomber dropped the world’s first deployed atomic bomb over the Japanese city of Hiroshima. The explosion immediately killed an estimated 80,000 people; tens of thousands more would later die of radiation exposure. Three days later, a second B-29 dropped another A-bomb on Nagasaki, killing an estimated 40,000 people. Japan’s Emperor Hirohito announced his country’s unconditional surrender in World War II in a radio address on August 15, citing the devastating power of “a new and most cruel bomb.”

That’s an absolute nightmare when you think about it. But here’s the thing… during the war, our automobile plants stopped making cars and made planes like the Mustang to fight in the war. A car company in Japan did the same and developed the Zero to do battle against its enemies.

You’d think after killing 120,000 of their people in response to killing 2,400 of ours would be unforgivable.

But after only 40 years, Chrysler and Mitsubishi manufactured automobiles together in the same factories on American soil.

So if nations can forgive on such an incredible level, I think I can forgive some kid for knocking my books out of my hands and pushing me over some hedges for a couple of years. I’m sure what made him who he is was far worse than anything that ever happened to me as a kid.

Forgive. Don’t drink the poison hoping your enemies die. You’ll only be hurting yourself. I’m not saying to make friends with your enemies. But for goodness’ sake… let it go! Life’s too short.

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Wildwood Daze – Betty Ann – Part 7 – Burning For You

North Wildwood, New Jersey – June 1984

I was going to the bathroom one day and I felt a burning sensation. I always had two terrible fears about sex. Getting someone pregnant and acquiring a venereal disease. I had been having a lot of incredible mind-bending sex with Betty and now I was worried. I knew she was on birth control so getting her pregnant was a non-issue. But now I was suddenly feeling this discomfort whenever I urinated and I started having real anxiety.

The whole idea of me having an affair with a woman ten years my senior who was incredibly hot was unbelievable enough. But now I was starting to think maybe I wasn’t the only one she could be fooling around with. Could it be possible? Had I fallen victim to a wanton seductress who was out devouring young men? Of course, being only 22 at the time I instantly panicked.

What to do? My dad had lots of experience with all sorts of scary grown-up stuff so I went and talked to him. He knew all about what was happening between me and Betty so I figured I should ask him about what I was experiencing. 

I guess looking back on it now, I can say what I want about my father but when it came to big stuff… serious stuff, he was always there for me. It’s a shame most kids can’t go to their parents with their troubles for fear of repercussions or shame associated with their actions. But I remember my father always saying, anything you’re doing… or even thinking about doing… I’ve probably already done it. Another goal I would eventually achieve and exceed.

So, I went and spoke to him about what I was experiencing. I knew enough about science, biology, and anatomy and clearly, something was wrong. Betty was the only girl I’d been with in a while so I figured anything wrong with my plumbing had to have come from her.

“Okay, son, let’s not jump to conclusions here. You may just be experiencing what many of us call a ‘ hot bod’. But I doubt if it’s syphilis or gonorrhea. She’s a married woman. She’s chosen you, and she’s probably not screwing anyone else.”

“But what about her husband? He cheated on his first wife with her, and now he’s cheating again. That’s why she’s getting revenge on him with me. What if he’s screwing a bunch of women, and he caught something, gave it to her, and she gave it to me.”

“You make a great point there son, but don’t panic. I’m going to call Dr. Galzunis, and you’re going to go see him and get yourself checked out. But whatever this is, we’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Thanks, dad. I will. I hope you’re right.”

I go to Dr. Galzunis’s office to get checked out. I’m embarrassed because he’s the family doctor and I know his hot daughter Chrissy. But, he was good friends with my father, and I’m sure he knew the situation before I got there.

I was sitting in the waiting room and having high anxiety when it was my turn to go in to see him. I had been praying I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew in the office. Wildwood is a small town so you never know who could see you doing whatever.

I get in there and of course, Dr. Galzunis is the consummate professional and has a great bedside manner. But there was no pageantry here, we got right down to business. He checked me for any swelling on different parts of my body then it was time for the main event.

I was asked to drop my pants and lean over the examination table. He handed me a microscope slide. He told me to hold it at the end of my member. I’m thinking… what the hell is this? He snaps on a glove and lubes up his middle finger. He tells me he’s going to check my prostate. A small amount of semen will discharge out of me and onto the slide. I’m filled with anxiety as he invades me. He’s trying to be gentle and quick about the whole matter and I start hyperventilating. It’s odd, because I had really bad anxiety that normally resulted in nausea, but there was no time for that here. I just started hyperventilating. That had never happened to me before. I looked down and there was the sample he was seeking. I told him it came out and he withdrew. 

I started to calm down as I cleaned up and pulled up my drawers. Man, that was awkward and uncomfortable. He told me that I probably had a urinary infection and that it was quite common. It just appears in men faster because all of our equipment is on the outside of our bodies and women’s stuff was all inside. I was praying he was right because I had read articles about what VD can do to the body if left untreated. 

He said he’d run some tests and give me a call in a day or so. He gave me a prescription for some CIPRO and told me NO SEX for a couple of days until we knew what we were dealing with.

I left the office and called Betty and told her all about the whole scary ordeal. At first, she was a little miffed about me thinking I got an STD from her, but once I gave her my theory about her husband catting around, she understood. She said she’d go and get herself checked out. 

It turns out it was simply a urinary infection, and she had indeed passed it to me during one of our marathon sessions. Once you get a UTI apparently you’re susceptible to getting one again. I think I’ve had maybe one or two more in my entire life and it’s no big deal. But once it starts you know something’s up. All the cranberry juice in the world won’t clear it up, but CIPRO will. You start taking that stuff and you feel better by day two. Medicine works.

So, Betty and I had a good laugh about it, and we kept all of our frisky encounters to a minimum for a week. She even gave me a polaroid of her topless that her husband had taken to hold me over. 

But after that, we were back in the groove again, so to speak.

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Tales of Rock: Man Accidentally Trips On LSD For 9 Hours After Cleaning A Classic Synthesizer

Eliot Curtis accidentally tripped on LSD while fixing a vintage Buchla Model 100. He was tasked to repair a piece of history, but he didn’t expect to begin seeing history and time in front of him as tripped on acid. With his experience, he added another story to the history of the synthesizer, and it’s probably a good idea to making cleaning old equipment with gloves on a standard procedure.

The Buchla Model 100 was invented in the 1960s by Don Buchla of Berkeley. He completely immersed himself in counterculture, and in 1966, his synthesizers were put on a school bus converted to play music. The iconic bus of counterculture, Furthur, was purchased by Ken Kesey, an advocate for using acid. Among their crew was Owsley Stanley, a sound engineer and manufacturer of a potent strain of LSD. While these links can explain how the drug could’ve gotten on the synthesizer, it’s still unclear exactly how the LSD got on this specific one.

Curtis, the Broadcast Operations Manager for KPIX Televsion, was tasked with repairing the vintage analog music modular instrument they found in a closet at Cal State University East Bay’s music department. It was acquired by two music professors who taught in the university during the 1960s. During his repair, Curtis found something stuck under one of the knobs, and it appeared to be a crystal. He sprayed cleaning solvent on the residue to dissolve it a little bit, then he dislodged it from the knob to continue cleaning the area.

45 minutes later, Curtis began to feel strange tingling sensations. He speculated that he was tripping on LSD but thought that’s probably just his imagination. His original inkling, however, was true. His unexpected LSD trip lasted around nine hours.

Authorities later confirmed that residues of LSD were present on the instrument. According to reports, the place the synthesizer was stored made it possible for the LSD to remain potent. The machine was resting in a cool, dark place, so the drug’s potency was preserved so well that it was possible for the residue to be ingested through the skin. With his unexpected trip, Curtis learned a lot more about the 1960s counterculture than he could have ever imagined.

 

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7 Signs Your Relationship Won’t Last After The First 3 Months Of Dating

It’s so easy to get swept up in the rush of lovey-dovey feelings you get from dating someone new. But according to experts, it’s pretty important to stay grounded during the first three months of dating. Because as amazing as those new love feels are, those first 90 days can determine whether or not your new relationship is the real thing or has an expiration date.

“The three month-mark in a relationship is usually when you either take the relationship to the next level and become more serious, or you decide that love isn’t going to grow and you break ties,” dating coach, Anna Morgenstern, tells Bustle.

Although every relationship differs, three months is considered to be the average length of the first stage of a relationship. According to psychotherapist and relationship coach, Toni Coleman, LCSW, you should be ideally making that transition from “casually dating” to “exclusive” around that time. But again, this varies depending on how much time you actually spend together and how much distance is between you two.

According to Coleman, many believe that “losing interest” is the reason behind why some couples can’t seem to make it past three months. But that’s not entirely the case. “It’s not so much losing interest in one another as it is making a decision that this relationship is not one they want to invest more in and deepen,” she says. “They simply don’t feel that the friendship, connection, attraction and interest are strong enough.”

So will your new relationship make it past those crucial first 90 days? According to experts, if your partner hasn’t done these things in that time frame, it may not.

1. Your Partner Can’t Be Consistent With Their Communication

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At the beginning of a relationship, texting, calling, and messaging typically happen very often. There’s a lot of back and forth flirtation, and you pretty much expect it. But if your partner is no longer predictable or consistent with their communication, Emily Pfannenstiel, licensed professional counselor who specializes in therapy for women, tells Bustle, that’s not a great sign.

“As your relationship progresses, your communication should be too,” Pfannenstiel says. “They should be excited and wanting to talk to you! Playing coy is one thing, but if you feel like they go MIA on you every couple days, that’s not good.” According to her, it may take some time to get used to each other’s communication styles. For instance, one partner might not like texting all day, while the other does. But in the early stages, it’s especially important to check in and show some investment in the new relationship. If you’re unsure of your partner’s level of interest, Pfannenstiel suggests matching the level of communication they give you. If they’re barely communicating, you may need to have a discussion about it.

2. Your Partner Isn’t Their Genuine Self Around You

By the three-month mark, both you and your partner should feel totally comfortable being yourselves around each other. According to Samantha Daniels, dating expert and founder of Samantha’s Table Matchmaking, it’s a time when you stop worrying about scaring your partner off with talks about the future or bringing up issues that need to be discussed.

“You should feel no boundaries when it comes to texting when you feel like it, introducing them to your family, and being mad if they hurt your feelings and saying so,” she says. “The three month mark is when the dating games should be stopping and you can both be your genuine, honest, real true selves.” For some people, it may take a little longer to open up and be truly comfortable. So you may have to be a little patient, depending on how your partner is. But it shouldn’t take any longer than six months for them to be themselves around you.

3. They Don’t Invite You To Hang Out With Their Friends

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If your partner starts making more plans with friends and isn’t making the effort to include you, Morgenstern says, that’s an early sign your relationship may not last. When this happens, the tendency is to cling onto the relationship for fear of losing it. You may text them more or request to spend more time together. But as she says, “that is the absolutely worst thing to do.”

Instead, let them be. Maybe they need space to figure out their feelings in order to move forward. “Plan a trip with friends for the weekend and have an amazing time reconnecting with your inner circle. Coming from a place of self love and inner confidence will save your relationship,” Morgenstern says. “And if your partner does break it off, you’ll be setting yourself up to walk away from the relationship as a whole person, not a broken shell of yourself.”

4. Your Partner Doesn’t Find Small Ways To Keep Moving The Relationship Forward

In order to create a well-balanced and healthy dynamic early on, you shouldn’t be initiating everything as your relationship goes on. If your partner’s interest in the relationship isn’t strong enough to take it to the next level, they may take less of an initiative, be less affectionate, and show less physical closeness. In short, there’s going to be distance and you’re going to feel it.

“Couples should want to see each other, especially in the beginning,” Daniels says. “So if you feel that your partner is straying away or they’re coming up with invalid reasons to cancel plans, then this may be a sign they are losing interest.” If this is an issue, you should discuss this with your partner. You can even offer up a plan where you come up with something to do one weekend, and they come up with something to do the next. But if nothing changes and you’re still the only one moving the relationship forward, they may not be as invested as you are.

5. Your Partner Can’t Be A Shoulder To Lean On

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If your partner can’t listen to you and be your shoulder to lean on in those first three months, Daniels says your relationship may not make it long-term. You shouldn’t necessarily dump all your deepest and darkest fears on them right away. But if you’re going through something at work or with your family, they should be there to talk and listen to you.

“This kind of thing is what takes your relationship to the next level,” she says. “It establishes a level of trust and strength for both of you to feel comfort when seeking comfort.” If your partner can’t be that for you, that’s not a great sign. The same goes for them choosing to lean on you during tough times. If you’re not the first person they go to when they hear bad news, they need to vent, or they need someone to lean on, they may not see the relationship as something really serious.

6. They Don’t Make Solid Future Plans With You

A partner who sees a future with you will hint at it through the words they use. Even if they aren’t thinking marriage at this point, they may talk about a future trip that they want to take with you or plans for your birthday in a few months. It’s equally important to pay attention to the follow-through. It’s one thing to say that you should go away together for the weekend, and it’s another to actually book everything and hash out the logistics. If your relationship is one that is destined to get stronger, Coleman says you will make solid plans for the future together. For instance, you may not meet their family within those first three months, but you can make plans for it. But if your partner can’t even commit to making dinner plans for next week, that’s not the best sign.

7. They Don’t Make Your Relationship A Priority

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“There is much more that goes into maintaining a long term partnership; it’s not just be all about lust and pheromones,” Susan McCord, dating coach and talk show host, tells Bustle. “Relationships take work and need to be nurtured.” As you go further along in your relationship, your partner should be putting a good amount of effort into the relationship. The “busy” excuse won’t cut it. If someone wants to be with you, they’ll make time. You will be a priority.

It’s tough to realize that the person you’re dating isn’t putting in enough effort to be in a committed relationship with you. But as Coleman says, “You can’t keep someone interested if they’re not.” Besides, why waste your time and effort trying to make a relationship happen if it’s not meant to?

On the other hand, it’s so easy to get hung up on timelines, especially when you first start dating. There’s no shame in wanting commitment and exclusivity once you’re realized your feelings. But just remember, every relationship is different. For some, life circumstances will only allow them to have two or three dates over the course of three months. For others, getting engaged after three months just feels right. If your relationship is making you feel anxious because you haven’t done this, this, and that, by your third month together, don’t panic just yet. If you and your partner can openly communicate about where things are at and where it’s going, you’re on the right track.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Love is like Cocaine: The Remarkable, Terrifying Neuroscience of Romance – Part 4

Addicted to Grief

The emotional responses to a thorny breakup can resemble the responses to the death of a loved one. You feel weighed down by the memories, the longing, the wistful tears, the chest pain and the aching throughout the whole body. Or you are so outraged that you are lucky not to have a semi-automatic weapon. Or you are ready to go on a secret mission aimed at reversing the terrible outcome. It’s no coincidence that breakups can resemble the death of a loved one. When a loved one dies, you grieve. But death is not the only trigger of grief. Grief can occur after any kind of loss: the loss of a job, a limb, a breast, a home, a relationship.

According to the Kübler-Ross model of grief, also known as “The Five Stages of Grief,” first introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her 1969 book,”On Death and Dying,” grief involves five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance. After the loss of a loved one, you may first deny that the person is gone, simply refuse to believe it. Once the truth dawns on you, you may feel outraged and attempt to convince the beloved to come back or beg God or the universe’s spirits to reverse their decision. Once you realize things are not going to change, sadness sets in. Over time you may finally accept what happened. These stages need not occur in this order, and each stage may occur several times. The different emotions can also overlap. You may be angry and in a bargaining mode at the same time, or deny what happened and still feel sad. Philosopher Shelley Tremain captured the complexity of grief well when she wrote on her Facebook site, “Today  would have been my father’s eighty-first birthday. Some days, I think time is on my side, that it’s getting easier to live with losing him. Then, it happens. Sometimes, it’s a figure of speech he was fond of, at other times, I am shaving him, or I look in the mirror and see the features of my face that are his, or we are sitting together holding hands. Just sitting there.”

Sometimes it is nearly impossible to let go of grief. When you continue to grieve a loss for a very long time, your condition is called “complicated (or pathological) grief.” The love story of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert is a heartbreakingly beautiful illustration of complicated grief. Alexandrina Victoria was eighteen when she became Queen of England. Her Uncle, King William IV, had no surviving legitimate children. So Victoria became his heir when he died in 1837. When Prince Albert, her first cousin, visited London in 1839, Victoria immediately fell in love with him. Initially Albert had doubts about the relationship, but he eventually fell in love with her too. The couple got married in February 1840. During the next eighteen years Queen Victoria gave birth to nine children. She loved Albert deeply. Albert was not only a dutiful husband and the father of Victoria’s children, he was also Victoria’s political and diplomatic advisor. For twenty-one years they lived happily together. But the bliss came crashing to a halt when Prince Albert died of typhoid at Windsor on December 14, 1861.

Albert’s death completely destroyed Victoria emotionally. She was overwhelmed by grief and refused to show her face in public for the next three years. People began to question her competence, and many attempted to assassinate her. Victoria finally appeared in public but she refused to wear anything but black and mourned her Prince Albert until her own death in 1901. Victoria’s forty-year-long state of mourning earned her the nickname “The Widow of Windsor.” She never again became the happy and cheerful woman she had been when Albert was alive. In preparation for her own death she asked for two items to be in her coffin: one of Albert’s dressing gowns and a lock of his hair.

Complicated grief is so severe that psychiatrists now consider it for inclusion in the psychiatric manual for diagnosing mental disorders. If you have complicated grief, you have been grieving for six months or more. You furthermore satisfy at least five of the following criteria:

1. You have obsessive thoughts about aspects of the lost relationship or the person you were with.
2. You spend a significant amount of time every day or almost every day, thinking about your lost relationship or the person you were with.
3. You have intense emotional pain, sorrow, pangs, or yearnings related to the lost relationship.
4. You avoid reminders of the loss, because you know that reminders will cause you pain or make you feel uncomfortable.
5. You have problems accepting the loss of the relationship.
6. You have frequent dreams that relate to your lost relationship.
7. You frequently suffer from deep sadness, depression, or anxiety because of the loss.
8. You are angry or feel a deep sense of injustice in relation to the lost relationship.
9. You have difficulties trusting others since the relationship ended.
10. The loss of the relationship makes it difficult for you to find pleasure in social and routine activities.
11. Your symptoms make it difficult for you to function optimally on your job, as a parent or in a new relationship.

Complicated grief is emotionally and chemically similar to post-traumatic stress disorder. In fact, some psychiatrists argue that there is no need to include complicated grief as a separate psychological condition. They are variations on the very same disorder, they say. Posttraumatic stress disorder can occur as the result of any traumatic event. The most common traumatic events discussed in the literature on posttraumatic stress are events of war, terrorist attacks, brutal physical and sexual assaults, and traffic accidents. It is not commonly noted that unexpected breakups and other traumatic relationship events can also lead to posttraumatic stress.

Posttraumatic stress disorder is a condition in which you keep reliving the traumatic event— for example, the breakup—avoiding situations that are similar to the one that led to the trauma. You furthermore have difficulties sleeping, you feel angry, you have difficulties focusing, and you suffer from anxiety. To be a clinical case of posttraumatic stress disorder, the symptoms must last more than a month and lead to difficulties functioning socially, on the job, or in other areas of life. Posttraumatic stress disorder is more likely to occur if the adrenaline surge at the time of the event was very intense.

A study published in the May 2008 issue of Neuroimage suggests that complicated grief sometimes occurs because a normal grieving process turns into an addiction. Led by neuroscientist Mary-Frances O’Connor, the team looked at images of the brains of people who satisfied the criteria for complicated grief and people who weren’t grieving and found significantly more activity in the nucleus accumbens of the people with complicated grief. Activity in the nucleus accumbens is associated with addiction.

It may seem strange that you could actually become addicted to emotional pain and a longing for a person who is no longer with you. The researchers suggest that your yearning and sadness may give you some type of pleasure or satisfaction.

Perhaps the turmoil of emotions does really provide some kind of gratification. Perhaps this emotional overflow is addictive. But it is also possible that the increased activity in the nucleus accumbens signifies increased dopamine levels of the sort found in certain anxiety disorders, such as obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). The classical case of this disorder is one in which the afflicted is obsessed with thoughts of disease and germs and compulsively washes his or her hands after being near other people or anything that could possibly carry microbes. This disorder is associated with low levels of the mood-enhancing chemical serotonin and fluctuating levels of the motivator chemical dopamine. The low levels of serotonin cause anxiety that involves obsessive, jazzy thinking and the dopamine “reward” motivates the afflicted person to behave in compulsive ways.

As people ruminate obsessively over the events leading up to the loss in complicated grief, the condition may turn out to be similar in this respect to obsessive-compulsive disorder. Low levels of serotonin may trigger obsessive thinking, crippling anxiety, and a visceral yearning for the absent person or the irretrievable relationship. The dopamine response elicited by this kind of obsessive thinking and longing may motivate the grief-stricken person to engage in begging and bargaining and it could also ignite anger fits and a ferocious denial of the loss of the relationship.

 

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Wealthy Tech Exec, 30, Describes His Costly Addiction To Asian Massage-Parlor Sex: ‘I Love The Ego-Stroking’

Michael is the founder of a tech startup valued at $10 million. Living alone in a two-bedroom apartment in New York City, the 30-year-old is the picture of success.

But over the past six years, he has shelled out more than $20,000 on his weekly vice: visits to massage parlors for sex.

In light of Patriots’ owner Robert Kraft’s recent charge of solicitation at a Florida spa, Michael (who asked that his name be changed) tells Phicklephilly about what he calls his “addiction.”

I’m a typical millennial guy. I live in the Village, work in tech, hang out with my friends — but I suppose what sets me apart is my rub-and-tug addiction:

In New York, you can get anything you want. On the same block, you can go to the hardware store, grab avocado toast and get a happy ending, all before 11 a.m. One of my go-to places is right next to a fancy sushi restaurant that charges $60 for a caviar roll. It’s so easy to get anything, that it’s also easy not to think what I’m doing is wrong.

It all started after my longtime girlfriend and I broke up six years ago. I needed instant gratification — and I found it in the massage parlor. The sex just happened. I didn’t even have to ask for it. It was so transactional, I figured it was harmless.

Within a few months, my visits became a regular thing.

It’s the same thing every time, the flirty greeting of “Hey, baby boy.” Then I lie on the bed and it’s back massage, leg massage, flip over, tug, clean up, out. Forty dollars for the house, forty for the tip. There’s a mutual understanding that this is part of the scope of services.

If I’m being honest, my addiction has held me back in dating. I’ve never had trouble meeting women. When I started, apps like Tinder were starting to get popular, but I didn’t want to wait to meet up with a girl, go on a date and woo her. I just wanted to get to the sex.

The paid experiences have ruined me.

I went out with a woman last summer and she used her hand on me. But it was awful, and just not the same as a professional.

I love the ego-stroking I get at the massage parlor, the way they call you “big boy.” You almost trick yourself into thinking that the masseuse is into you. There’s also the illicit thrill of getting away with it. One time the masseuse gave me oral sex with a condom on. It’s exciting — kind of underground and crazy that it’s happening at all.

I have to admit, it’s easier not to know the real-life circumstances of these women working in the massage parlors. If they’re forced to do this against their will, that’s horrible. But who wants to think about that when you’re just trying to escape for a bit?

I can’t deny that doing that job all day has to be gross, disgusting.

When I first heard about Robert Kraft, I was shocked. He’s 77. If I’m still doing this in my 70s, that’s just sad. It also really made me consider the legal consequences. I just assumed that the act isn’t technically illegal because I’ve never had to ask for it.

The expense can be easy to justify, too: Maybe the $20,000 I’ve spent helped me focus on my business, netting me 10 times that amount in productivity.

But sometimes when I think about the money I’ve spent, I get mad at myself. I’m definitely too dependent on it. I’m addicted. Instead of going out with friends after work, I’ll go to the massage place.

I’ve been in Miami for a month for work, and I’ve done it down here three times after searching for Asian massage parlors online. You look for telltale signs like photos of hot girls. It’s also a dead giveaway when you have to ring through two doorbells just to walk in.

If I was dating someone, I like to think I would stop — but I don’t know.

 

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My Experience at an Asian Massage Parlor

Here’s a story one of my followers sent me…

Thank you Joe R.

So during the summer of my junior year I was staying in in town over the summer working as a certified nursing assistant and taking a chemistry course through the university. I had joined a gym to get back into shape and maybe lose a couple pounds. It had been awhile since I weight-lifted and anyone who’s been in that boat knows how sore you are after the first couple times getting back on the horse.

While, on my drive to work out, I kept passing a dilapidated white building with a bright red sign reading “Asian Massage” on the outside. I mean, this thing was a glorified shack. The first time I passed by gave me a chuckle. The stereotypical Asian massage parlor with happy endings had long been ingrained in my mind. I had seen plenty of jokes and portrayals of the places in pop culture, but I took them with a grain of salt. Surly most things like that hold some grain of truth, but I was skeptical any but a small fraction actually operated like that. Still….it got me thinking.

I would like to say that my reasoning for my trip there the following week was purely out of rationality. I was really sore and stiff from working out. The parlor was close and probably didn’t charge as much as some of the…..we’ll go with, more established massage businesses in the area. Although, to be truthful with myself, it was mainly out of curiosity. Now, did I go in there expecting anything, not at all. It was surly in the back of my mind, but I thought the stereotype was overblown. There also wasn’t anyway I was going to ask about it. How would one even go about doing something like that? There is also a conception that Asian massages are rougher, which is exactly what I needed for my sore muscles. The expectation was I would get a good massage and at least be able to put some context to the stereotype.

*Disclaimer: When I refer to Asian massage, I simply mean a massage where the techniques are derived from Chinese or Asian culture and not necessarily performed by a person of Asian descent, although that it true a majority of the time.

Back to the story,

I parked my car in one of the two spots they had and gained my composure for a minute. I could feel the butterflies rising in my stomach and felt my heartbeat picking up. I felt as though I was breaking the law or guilty of some misdeed as I did have a girlfriend at the time. I thought for a moment to just leave and get a massage somewhere else, but my damn curiosity wouldn’t let me. I needed to know. So, I entered the dimply lit building.

Complete exaggeration, but might have well been the place with how I felt going in

There was a stairwell that led upstairs and then a door that I presumed was the parlor. I entered the later and was met by a dark room with a counter and couch and several doors jetting out from there. Traditional Chinese decoration covered the walls and music played prominently throughout. I was greeted at the counter by a middle-aged woman with a thick accent.

“Welkom, welkom, do you have an appointment”.

I managed to stammer out a “no”. My eyes were wide with a combination of discomfort and naivety.

She said that was okay and pointed to a chart with different times, prices and what each massage entailed. She started to explain them. I simply choose the half hour option because it was the cheapest. She then led me to a back room that held a massage table and chair with a stereo that played the music. She asked If I ever had a massage before. I hadn’t and she told me to put my clothes there and then get under the sheets. I asked, “all my clothes”? She said yes, then swiftly exited. I could hear her talking to another woman in Chinese.

I started taking off my clothes, throwing them on the chair, but stopped at my boxers. Surly she didn’t mean EVERYTHING, just down to my boxers. Although, I did ask all clothes. Never having a massage before I didn’t know if that was normal. At first it didn’t seem like that would be the case, but you did get under a towel so it wasn’t like you were exposed or anything. I needed to make a decision so I went with the full nude option.

At this point you might be reading and thinking dude, really? Full Nude? You think that was reasonable? To those I say yes, at the time, but thinking about it in hindsight, probably not the norm.

Anywho, I’m settled in and finally breathe a sigh of relaxation just before she returns. I let my head sink into the hole with my body going limp. She enters and immediately begins giggling.

“Oh no silly, too many towels”. She immediately rips them off me! Exposing my naked body on the table.

I shoot up completely nude and for a couple seconds she just stares at me and I back at her. I watch her gaze travel the length of my body as I try to cover up, then she begins laughing again. This time even more.

“It okay, it okay, not all clothes but okay. Here, lie on the table”. I sheepishly jump back on the table and begin to apologize. I was embarrassed to say the least. She took her sweet time placing the smaller towel to cover me then left the room again. I was cursing myself for being so stupid. She left for a moment and outside I could hear her talking and laughing with another employee in Chinese (undoubtedly about me). She returned and started the massage. It started out really nice, with oil and stretching out my limbs and deep tissue massages to my muscles. I was sinking into relaxation and starting to forget about the awkward start.

She asked where I worked and other common conversation mannerisms. The first question she asked though was where I was from. I paused for a moment because I could try to use my origin to explain earlier, implying that it was perhaps different in other cultures. I blurted out Nigeria, the first African country I could think of, and she gave a long, “oohhhh”.

Disclaimer 2: I do not think it is normal cultural practice that Nigerians, or for that fact other African cultures have the practice of getting naked during a massage, but I needed a culture foreign to her and my skin tone funneled me to that answer.

I quickly followed up with, “I moved when I was younger” to account for my lack of accent.

The massage continued without incident until she got on top of the table startling my back and sitting on my butt. I was a little confused because that seemed an outside the bounds of what a normal massage would be and of course in my previse mind ushered in other thoughts of what could be going on.

I wasn’t able to think too much more as a jackhammer plunged into my back. 

My head shot up from the table. I wanted to let out a yell from the pain, but I didn’t want to be rude or seem like a wimp, so I bit my tongue. Another shot came down right on my spine. What the hell was this woman trying to do, paralyze me? I started to think it was punishment for my earlier embarrassment. The pain train went right on trucking as elbows were buried deep into my pressure points. That soon subsided thankfully and I let out a breath. For a few moments I felt relaxed and loose, the beating was a good pain. But no sooner did I relax, then my arm was twisted back. It was pulled into a position I don’t ever think it has gone, nor will again and I kid you not I thought my arm was about to tear or pull out of the socket. She must’ve felt my body convulse because she let up almost immediately. The stretching continued for a little while and then she left the room again. She left the room several times during the massage to talk to what must’ve been another employee because I could hear them. They sounded like they were arguing. I kept thinking it was about me and I hoping it didn’t cut into my half an hour.

She returned and finished the massage with a more relaxing touch, culminating with an abrupt , “all done”. It was a fast half hour and I wanted longer, but It was worth it. She left the room again and I put on my clothes. When I emerged, and approached the front counter she asked how I liked it and I told her very much. It was just what I needed for my sore muscles and it really was. For how unorthodox it seemed, I really felt amazing. While paying she told me next time to come back for an hour and they would do my front. My head shot up from counting my money and she just smiled back. Well hot damn, maybe there was something to these places after all……

Hope you enjoyed and got a laugh steemians. If by some lottery chance this gets 100 upvotes I will share what happened when I returned to this parlor.

 

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Racquel Writes! There Is Enough to Go Around

via There Is Enough to Go Around

 

http://www.racquelwrites.com

 

 

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Theresa – Halloween

 

Here’s another random blast from the distant past…

There was a girl at the place I worked. She claimed she had an abusive boyfriend. I encouraged her to leave him because she didn’t deserve that. She says she left him and needs someone to talk to. We go out a few times. We start seriously dating. We have a stupid five month anniversary date planned for Halloween.

She calls and says she can’t make it on account of work and will be too tired afterwards. The next day she calls me over to talk. (That’s never good) When I get there she informs me that she wasn’t at work she was fucking her ex all day and they’re getting back together. We get into a shouting match. She’s not responsible; Bullshit. They have history; Yeah, he hit her. He never really hit her; Lying snake. Why am I so mad; Because she’s a trollop. And so on. I left (Yes, in the heat of the moment I wanted to hit her. (Not really!) That’s why I left. Should I be applauded for that? No, it’s just something that happened. I shouldn’t have ever admitted to feeling anything. I’m sorry.) and she spent the day begging me to come back. I refused to speak to her because I was angry and confused and needed some space.

Naturally when she can’t reach me she calls into work and claims I sexually assaulted her. I don’t know this, go to work, and get taken aside. The company is concerned about the allegations and wants to call the cops. I swear it was an ongoing relationship, completely consensual, and they didn’t need to call the cops. They point out we’re still both employees and the company can’t have us both working there if it is true. There are liabilities to consider and the police will sort everything out. I’ll just sit in jail for a couple of days while they do that. So, I offer to quit in exchange for them not calling the police as I really didn’t want to go to jail. I was in an independent contractor position. I didn’t even really work for them. The company didn’t need to get involved. This is a private issue. They agree and let me go under the condition that if they ever see me again they’re calling the cops on me for harassing her. I go home, crawl into bed and pray for death.

A little less than a week later she emails to tell me her boyfriend told her she couldn’t see me so she wants to see me to make sure I’m okay. I explain that I’m not okay because she is a lying cheating whore who ruined my life and I wish all the evil in the world upon her (Yes, including that her boyfriend would actually beat her to death. It’s shocking I know but I liked her less now than before and was still hurt so I said mean things to her. I’m literally Hitler and Satan’s bastard child right?) and want nothing to do with her. She claims nothing that happened was her fault, he made her say I raped her, and the beatings have gotten worse. I din’t respond.

 

 

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