Sunday, February 10, 2013


Johann Wagener 2-10-13

I’m not sure that’s always a good idea.

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When I was 15 I was easily taken in and took a doctors advice when this popped up on the TV screen;

 Thanks to that doctors advice, 50 years later I was told by another doctor that I suffered from COPD which I understood to be a blend of asthma, bronchitis, and emphysema which I a good chance of adding cancer to the mix down the road.

Even though I became somewhat suspicious of what doctors had to say it didn’t completely deter me. So when, in my “greying” years, I saw a commercial suggesting I “ask my doctor” about the latest plague to hit the 50 plus crowd, "ED" I didn't hesitate. 

At 51 I thought I knew all I needed to know about the “intimate” moment; you know, when the “time is right” (wink, nod-wink, nod). I had the vernacular down pat. I even understood the new buzz words.

Unfortunately Father Time and Mother Nature had something else in mind. Those intimate moments began to be fewer and further apart.  I was fortunate in that I could still vividly recall when every time was the “right time.” You know, to experience that “intimate moment” when the flames of passion burned incessantly with little or no effort on my part. Back then all it took was me, someone who had a mutual interest, the back seat of my 57 Ford, and a parking spot in the back row of the local Drive-In  theater. The combination of these elements created “magical moments.”

Over the years the flames of passion cooled down to a flicker, and the Drive-In theaters faded into obscurity.  Even though I missed those times I reluctantly came to accept whatever plans Father Time and Mother Nature had in store for me. 

That is, until  Big Pharma came to the rescue with promises that a “little blue pill” they conjured up would defeat Father Time and Mother Nature by fooling them (and me) and magically restore what they had taken away. 

I refer to these days as “The ED Wars.” Thanks to the miracles of science it looked like Father Time and Mother Nature had met their match.   Aging and diminished libido were soon to become a thing of the past.   “Better living through chemistry” became the battle cry of Big Pharma and Madison Avenue.

The first shot was fired with ads like this;

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Not long after, a battle started when a worthy rival launched it’s campaign with ads like this;

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The war has been raging ever since. Both the “blue” and “yellow” pills promise “4 hour marathons” but warn that anything over that warrants a 911 call (so put it on speed dial). How they arrived at the “4 hour” ceiling is a mystery to me. My guess is that they just threw that in as a “buzz” word that sends those “mature” (I use the term loosely) males racing to their doctors office. Up to 4 hours; really? The 50 plus crowd would be lucky to be able to go for 4 minutes without risking cardiac arrest or something worse. Those 4 hour marathons were also taking their toll on partners unless they were a “lady of the night” or a porn star.

Then, along comes another “breaking news” announcement on network news. The folks at Poise have made a new discovery that will send your partner racing to the pharmacy.

can't see the video? click here;

The one word in all these ads that got my attention was “dysfunction.” This implies there’s something wrong.  But this time I didn’t take the bait. I realized, for example,  that being in a state of self-induced arousal for 4 hours plus was a far worse dysfunction than the one I’m trying to fix. I also realized that if I combined  ED with BHP and COPD; chances were that a little blue or yellow pill would not do the trick.  And, even though my partner could now hang in without groaning in pain (not pleasure) ; and being the realist that I am I reluctantly accepted that, in the big picture, Father Time and Mother Nature were calling the shots. 

I also swallowed the “bitter pill” and accepted that, even though Big Pharma could play me for a fool at times, that no matter how much they tried, this old saying still held true; “you can’t fool Mother Nature (or Father Time, for that matter).