Never Too Late or Why Men Never Turn Off

The 70-year-old father of a friend of mine has a new, well, how shall I say?  Girlfriend is too sophomoric.  Companion is too sedate. Partner is rather doubtful given his history.  Well then, his new woman (for lack of a better term) is some 20 years his junior.  None of this would be particularly remarkable, of course, except that my friend has rather a difficult time counting up all the women, throughout the 30 years or so that he´s been at it.  A few days ago she arrived at seven, but then remembered one she´d forgot, so perhaps it's eight.

My tendency is to shrug in my matter-of-fact, men-will-be-men sort of way, except that Daddy has a penchant for whisking his women off to Spain where my friend lives.  If she´s lucky, in between focussing nearly all his attention on the woman of the moment, he might carve out time for a dinner or two for his only daughter.  Number 8 (or is it 9?) seems to be the straw that is breaking the camel's back; when my friend told me the newest this afternoon, it was the first time I'd heard her deploy some rather choice Latinamerican curses.

Now, I recall my father telling me about his mid-life crisis, and confessing the affair that had happened soon after I left for college, of which I hadn't been aware.  This was a few years after the fact, and it made quite a large impression on little 20-something me.  At the same time I remember him saying that at age 50 or so, he felt his sex drive slacken. 

Recently, the Pirate casually tossed out the best description I think I have ever heard with respect to men's sexuality.  He said, it's as if we are constantly looking for the off switch [which is nowhere to be found].  I have been mulling this over, quite delighted, for days now.  That is exactly it.  And whether my father's switch finally turned off at 50, and my friend's father's never will, is rather hard to say.

Because it seems that at the same time, we can never seem to get by, without that need to go out and find, somebody to love....