My mind is full of mindfull this early Coastal State a.m.

{Deep breath he gathered.}

So. Why was my mind full of mindfull this early Coastal a.m. when it could be so full of other things, like Smiley's Person himself or the Cubs or dreamy visions of dreamy shores full of dreams?

Last night, my old war buddy, married 27 years, 3 kids (adults), good lodge brother, fraternity brother, Toastmaster, hail-fellow-well-met....came out of the closet to me.

Now, being a notorious Liberal, that's all good as far as I'm concerned, I mean Life Liberty and all that, but I was -- being deeply engaged in mojolating a divorce myself -- rather concerned about how the family was taking it.

Oddly enough, though I have yet to verify with the wife and the one kid I know, he said they were actually sort of relieved. The kids because they "knew" all along -- the young folk have their gaydar working, and the wife because she finally understood why there was no...you-know...between them all those years and (more importantly for her I think) understood that, in their case, the old cliche "it's not you, it's me" was, in fact, correct. She simply wasn't equipped with the type of plumbing he was (secretly) interested in.

Now I'm not saying Mr. Full is batting for the other team. But when Old War Buddy described some of the things he'd (not) do with Mrs. OWB, well they sounded not all that different from some of what you've described from Mr. Full.

Indeed, what latched me onto this was your locked-door misadventure. OWB told me he would lock the bathroom door against just such a possibility from Mrs. OWB, not because he didn't want her (though, in point of fact, he didn't) but because he didn't want to hurt her by rejecting her -- though of course he didn't quite "get" that he was doing that anyway. From time-to-time, though decreasingly, he'd give her what he describes, crudely, as a "mercy poke," but inside his head it was Hunkalicious Movie Star of the Week there beside him.

Now the upshot to all this is, Mrs. OWB has spent years looking in the mirror for the "why." Should she get Botox? Should she lose weight? Should she do yoga? What was wrong with her?

Well...biology. Evolution. Random genetic selection. The wrong number of Y-chromosomes.

In other words, there weren't a daym thing wrong with her. It was him. Food for thought, perhaps.