It isn’t about looks, that may only be the first gateway issue, but if a man is attracted to women, who possess characteristics of their mothers, who establish who is beautiful to begin with, or who perhaps is not by general standards, we might have a better understanding. But, there have been women, who I would love to sleep with on the surface, but in the end, not really, because it’s a pheromone issue, they appear to be in need of a wealthy man to support them, they are like ultra feminine dolls that have nothing going but wearing clothes and adorning make-up, perfect haircuts, and it is implied that she doesn’t read Lacan or Heidegger, or Sartre. Life isn’t just about sex. It is about a partner, someone who is about you, who fits you as a glove, but I have to admit that when your mother was a beauty queen and runway model, there are types of women, who make my heart drop and I look at them like a junkie might look at heroin, not heroine, those women who are perfectly designed, and who I would like to look at as möbius strips of how beauty speaks to the soul. Oh, and then there is the aspect of beautiful women whom you know being with them is going to attract the truth about the reality of you being out of their league. I used to be pretty good-looking, but now I am just another 60-year-old man. If a beautiful woman is with me, she is probably just a friend, which is true, and her father was a professor of philosophy or she studied English lit and is a professor of English, which is also true, but neither would sleep with me, well one said she wanted to for a second, but she changed her mind when I wasn’t able to write a convincing statement about what I would do with her body. Apparently, I am not Henry Miller. Describing sex as a realist is like a doctor describing a victim of a motorcycle accident. Sadly, I dream of beautiful women, who I don’t attract, and the reality is embarrassing.