Daylight Savings

Ticked Off Vic DiBitetto hits the nail on the head.

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Ticked Off Vic-Daylight

Posted by Vic DiBitetto on Saturday, March 10, 2018

The Time I Met Steve Francis on a Return Flight From Vegas

So at one point I was flying a lot for work and as a result I would often get upgraded to first class. This happened one time on a return trip from Las Vegas and I found myself next to Steve Francis.

I do not make a big deal of celebrities, mostly because I feel they do not need to be engaged by anyone who happens to recognize them anywhere they go.

But I am not going to avoid small talk, either, and certainly not when my seatmate starts shaking his head and saying “Vegas, man.” Because I know the feeling.

Thus without any real introduction, we just get to chatting a little bit about our trips to Sin City, who we were with, and what we got up to.

At one point he expresses surprise that my wife would let me travel to Las Vegas by myself. I remarked that Nina was pregnant with our first child and I wanted to make the trip while I could.

“Your girl’s pregnant? My girl’s pregnant!” he says with genuine enthusiasm. “Boy or a girl?”

“A girl,” I say.

“I’m having a girl!” he says with elation, loving the coincidence.

“What’s your name, man?” he asks, not knowing we share a namesake.

But I do, and so I grin a little and tell him “Steve.”

“MY NAME IS STEVE!” he replies, echoing the cosmic forces that have brought us together on this flight, and my grin grows to full beam.

I am reminded of this story because of the truly touching memoir by Steve Francis that The Players’ Tribune published this week.

Our casual connection on that flight had nowhere near the emotional depth that Steve Francis shares with the world in that piece, but I can tell you that the same love of life and appreciation of his circumstances came through in our brief chat.

At one point during the flight, he got out of his seat, took out a small super squirter, and hit his friends that were sitting right behind us in coach. He was like a big kid.

I’m quite certain that he would be a blast to hang out with in Las Vegas. He sure made the flight back memorable.

Here’s to you, Stevie Franchise.

Escort Shares 20 Secrets of the Industry

This Quora page has an anonymous sex worker sharing 20 secrets of the escort business.

The page is from September of last year, but it is insightful and has the ring of authenticity.

Maybe not accuracy in terms of estimates on the portion of married men who stray (the author estimates “95% of men are satisfied and don’t stray from their wives” whereas research shows a pretty consistent infidelity rate of about 16% in the US over the past 30 years), but she clearly knows her own business.

There is also a question of to what extent thus represents larger perceptions among sex workers and to what extent it is the personalized experience of one person.  Sometimes she cops to the latter (doesn’t like anal), and even separates herself categorically from others (as being lazy, for example), but otherwise she seems to use her own experiences to make broad generalizations.

Regardless, the article is interesting, especially in how it reveals the ability of an escort to re-invent herself, going right at a preconception that a long career as an escort simply is not possible.

Well worth the read.

Pugilistic Poetry

“Vehicle: Violence”

The way boxers postulate a feeling to label that with which they overcome
the body’s vile fears,
its wish to flinch, to flee, break and run . . . they call it anger, pride,
the primal passion to prevail;
the way, before they start, they glare at one another, try to turn themselves
to snarling beasts . . .
so we first make up something in the soul we name and offer credence
to—”meaning,” “purpose,” “end”—
and then we cast ourselves into the conflict, turn upon our souls, snarl
like snarling beasts . . .
And the way the fighters fight, coolly until their strength fails, then desperately,
wildly, as in a dream,
and the way, done, they fall into one another’s arms, almost sobbing with
relief, sobbing with relief:
so we contend so we wish to finish, wish to cry and end, but we never
cry, never end, as in a dream.

C.K. Williams
from Selected Poems
Harper Collins, 1994