Dear Joe...

During a very rare and precious moment of complete peace and calm at work, the ladies and I had a discussion on how long to wait before deciding to "color" with the person you are dating. When are you safely out the "hoezone". Hoezone (n.) 1. The time period in which you can share your nakedness with the opposite sex, without fear that he may never call back again. 2. The time period in which you are no longer, "that broad, some chick, this bitch, that girl I met" and you actually have a name, place and meaning in someones life. 3. The area between the bar and the dancefloor right before closing time. 4. The black couches in the back at any club, on any given night, after 12am. and so on and so forth..... Basically the "hoezone" is the time when you're uncertain about how the person you're dating really "views" you. Give up the cookies too soon, and you will forever be in the hoezone. Sure you can transition out of there, into ...

So I've been thinking a lot about love. No no not another one of those "when will I find love" blogs. But about LOVE. Love of family, community, music. Especially music. I'm really struggling to decide if music influences our culture, or does our culture influence the music. I suppose it's a bit of both. Which is sad news for our generation. Our generation (80's babies) grew up in some of the HARSHEST musical times in history. But our souls were a little softened by the fact that our parents were still spreading that good ole love peace and happiness leftover from the 70's and the frivolous, carefree attitude of the early 80's. The 90's and beyond have taken us through "gangsta" rap, grunge, soft porn like lyrics in our R&B, and a general lack of actual "love" in all other genres. We were raised in an era where it was a daily occurrence to have women be referred to as bitches and hoes on the radio. Drugs, violence and money ...

We've all said it. Usually after a particularly hard day at work. We sit back with our friends, nice bottle of Reisling, take-out sushi spread out all over our Ikea coffee table, worn out college sweatshirts, memories of days past...and we say "Damn. I just need a sugar daddy. Just stay at home, raise some kids, shop in Nordstroms at noon (before the working womans rush at 6pm) BMW X-5..the whole package." And we all laugh. Because we're strong independent women etc etc etc. But for a moment..lets explore the idea. Of what it'd REALLY be like to date your friends grandpa. I. Sex Pros: Viagra. Wonder drug. Gauranteed long lasting sex, without the extended foreplay. Without the "I'm sorry baby." Without the "oops." Without the "I'll be ready again in 10 minutes." Cons: Balls. Old saggy wrinkly balls. And I've never actually seen Old Man Balls, but I'm not a big balls fan in general. And I can only imagine they get ugli...