From the age of about eighteen, when it came to women, I began to notice they looked at me in a special way, you know, different from guys. The smile, the corner eye glance, the cocking of the head, and so forth. As I aged, the “look” matured, became more explicit, or perhaps I became more proficient at interpreting the look. Basically, the expression was one of, “I recognize you as a male, an example of masculinity, and I am interested.” Now, I’ve been married since I was twenty, never strayed or sampled the wonder of feminine charm other than my wife, not in our entire forty years together. Yet I still recognized the look, and sometimes the accidental “touch”. You know, the split second bush of fingernails on the arm or a carefully placed palm on you chest for one second. Nothing wrong with it, just a harmless signal.

Here’s the kicker. About the age of fifty, I began to sense a change. The look had morphed, but to what? I tried to make sense of it, but it evaded me. I shook it off, ignored it, thought I was imagining things. Then about two years ago, I had an encounter with a young lady in here thirties in a retail store. She came up and made contact, but it was with the back of my arm and to my side. It was not quick and passing, but direct. They was an expression of endearment, almost…what the hell was it? Then it hit me. She was admiring me as she would her dad or grandpa. I was no longer an icon of vitality, masculinity, I was a remembrance of a fatherly role model. I sighed, cast my eyes to the ground and slowly left the store. Every place I went, encountered a young lady, a cashier, a stocker, any woman my junior, there was that say look. I had experienced the changing of the guard, the old bull let out to pasture.

Well, it was a hell of a ride as a mucho guy while it lasted. Guess I’ll go out, set on the porch, and watch the cars drive by.

I will be out of the loop for the next few months dealing with a medical crisis in my life. At first I figured the big guy would march on and do his normal routine. Now the more doctors I see, the more I realize my world will be anything but routine. I will return in three or four months. Till then, everyone take care.

Michael Davis (Davisstories.com)
Author of the year, 4/09

“Why?” you may ask.

I tell you, writing a book with a man was a real eye-opener. I can only hope that if you ever get the opportunity to read what we wrote as a joint effort, Veil of Deception, it will greatly enhance your understanding of male-female interactions!

I was going to point up here the likenesses between a man and a woman – the areas where the two can meet in the middle and possibly identify with each other. Instead, I got this funny ad in my Email inbox one day and just had to share. Honestly, I laughed my a$$ off!!!!

Unfortunately, I wasn’t only laughing because I thought it was a funny instance happening to other people; I was laughing (in that pitiful, making fun of yourself sort of way) because I could relate. Honestly. Get this: the second serious boyfriend in my life (one whom I was living with and planning on marrying) for our first Christmas got me as a present….a vacuum cleaner. Really. A Hoover. Upright. Cheapie model. I was the ripe old age of 18. Is this what I had anticipated all year long? A vacuum? Really? Not so much…

For chrissakes, what man out there believes he can get a vacuum for his significant other for Christmas and not end up in the dog house? Or, like the video proclaims about the ‘lifer’, an ab exerciser? If there’s any man out there who would ever consider buying his wife a stomach crunch device cuz she needs it – here’s your sign: S (that’s an “s” for “stupid”, in case you didn’t know).

Now, you may ask, what is an acceptable present for a husband to get his wife or a devoted boyfriend to get please his special gal? The answer: jewelry.

Can’t go wrong there. You really can’t, men. C’mon, think about it. Even if your significant other isn’t really girly like, she can always wear an ID bracelet so’s they know she belongs to should the need arise. And if she’s more Paris Hilton than Jodi Foster, diamonds are always a girl’s best friend. No lie.

So this year, take my advice. Don’t screw up. Stay away from the appliance aisle. Ditto the physical fitness equipment department. Unless you went to end up in hell on earth: the dog house. Think about it.

Our latest writing effort is a collaboration resulting in the romantic suspense novel, Veil of Deception. Written from both the male and female points of view from two very different authors with a common goal, this book was an exercise in patience and compromise.

We’ll be using this forum to present the difficulties we encountered along the way as well as general tidbits we learned about the differences between males and females. Because that could take quite some time, you might as well put your feet up and set a spell here while you look through our ramblings!