What?

Last night, while laying comfortably across a clean, soft, pillowtop mattress covered in Egyptian cotton 400 count sheets, I was offered a trip into the land of erotic paradise. It was night, the mood was relaxed, and so... without further hesitation...we both became involved in watching the new crime drama Lie to Me.

I remember Sig and I making a pact, a blood oath if you will, that we would never become "those people" who only had sex once a month-you know, the ones who have boring, in bed, lets get to it,  20-minute sex and then fall fast asleep with maybe ten words spent between them. The ones who have chocolate and Cheetos in/on the headboard for sustenance? The ones who make breakfast first- let the dog out first- do the bills first- take their meds first- and yes, have tv with the sex on- I mean sex with the tv on. I remember thinking I would never be there- it sounded at the time like some unrealistic horror movie that I could and would never be a part of. But time erodes even the hardest of rock.

Fast forward tape to "I'm there" scene.

From Here to Senility: a not so epic tale of the anti-supernatural

Scene 1#

The mood is dark and ominous and some weird ancient music (like old 70s music) is playing in the background in another part of the house.  Camera zooms in on the Interior of a bedroom, it is obviously an older persons bedroom as the priority for space has become closets of which there is a whole wall full. Where once art probably hung on the walls, now there is electrical cables that connect TVs, a Satellite Dish Box,and a DVD player. The Television itself perches high in the room dropping ominously over the queen-sized orthopedic bed, complete with a bookcase headboard and built in drawers underneath. The style is mission- heavy, dark and cumbersome. On the headboard rests some arthritis gel, a plethora of prescription medications, a back-scratcher, a TEMS unit purchased at the fair, a half-empty bag of Cheetos, some Werthers chocolate drops and a glass of water. Clothes are everywhere- sweat pants, underwear, socks and a denim shirt or two. A half-bald chihuahua is curled up in the bed next to a wrist brace. The TV is blaring in the background and the cell phone on the dresser reads the ungodly hour of 9pm. Wrapped in a down comforter, we see the shapes of two people. We will call them characters A and B.

A: Have you paid the light bill?

B: I did.

A: I have a doctor's appointment in the morning.

B: Another one?

A: This one is for my hip.

B: Oh, I went for my back yesterday.

A: That's right. How did it go?

B: It's just a strain.

A: Another one?

B: Yea, I stepped out of the car wrong.

A: Poor baby.

B: Hey, do you want to fool around?

A: Maybe. What time is it?

B: About 9 o'clock.

A: That late?

B: Yes.

A: Well, sure, we could... but isn't American Idol a two-hour episode on tonight?

B: Hey, you're right.

A: Maybe tomorrow night then.

B: That sounds great.

A: Love you.

B: Love you too- can you turn up the volume?

FADE TO BLACK

Okay. Maybe it won't make it to the big screen. Maybe it won't even become a made for TV movie, but- I am pretty sure, that all over America, this is what they would call "serious reality TV". What has happened to our drive of youth? Sex for 6 hours at a time, on the floor, on the table, in the limousine, on the limousine- is it all fade to black? Sometimes I think this recession might not be a bad thing. When economic times get bad and we end up losing our satellite dishes, Internet connections and "big boi's toys" maybe we'll all have to get back to basics. Maybe those basics will include nightly sit-down dinners, long conversations and more sex. Maybe we will reconnect with each other in a really consistent and physical way and I don't mean cage fighting or eye contact at the drive up window of Burger King. I know I am an optimist, but something tells me that despite statistics, despite the numbers that show 75 percent of all couples who are in relationships more than five years only have "intimate relations once every month or two", surely it is not an irreversible state of being.

So come on girls! Let's change the "set". Perhaps an anti-pasta tray on the headboard instead of prescriptions, a personal massager where the TEMS unit sits, replace the arthritis rub with cinnamon Kama Sutra oil and the misplaced undies with edible ones. Change up those sweats for lingerie and the back-scratcher with- well, you can't toss everything--baby steps, baby steps. I, for one, will take the pledge. I will not put off to tomorrow, what I can do today. I will become more sensitive, more erotic, more energetic. And so, with renewed commitment to the health of my long-term relationship, tonight will be the first in many amazing 20 minute nights- Unless it's Wife Swap and Super Nanny night. One cannot be expected to sacrifice everything, can one?