DON'T PROSTRATE BEFORE PROSTATE
I ambled into El Hueso before my set. Doc Stein, my longtime buddy and a staple at the joint with his blues repertoire, was sitting by himself at a table drinking a Topo Chico.
I found his choice of liquid refreshment strange. As long as I have know him, he finishes a bottle of wine, if not two, during a normal evening on the town. He literally paints himself red with the drops that sprinkle on his shirt.
I took a seat next to him. I hadn't seen him for several weeks and he looked wan. I asked him if he had smoked a joint. He seemed super mellow. He laughed and then raised his glass.
"Salud," he said.
"Salud," I replied although the waitress hadn't brought me my wine yet.
"I want you to know that all the anxiety that has afflicted me for years has disappeared. I may be less a man, but I'm more a spirit. I have slayed the animal. I reside in a serene state."
We listened to a gal sing Spanish classics, but, with a drink in my hand, I could no longer contain my curiosity.
"Have you attained nirvana?"
"Yes, I have."
"What was the spiritual path you took that has brought you your tranquility?"
"I didn't take a spiritual path."
"No?"
"I took a physical path."
"I don't follow."
"I had reached a point that I had lost all control of my sexuality. It was so bad that I was thinking about committing suicide, which isn't uncommon for sexual addicts. I was either going to end my life or start anew. I knew, however, that I was deteriorating so fast that I had to implement a drastic measure."
"And what was that?"
"A friend of mine had prostrate cancer that required the removal of the organ. He says that he has completely liberated himself from his libido. He has no sexual fantasies or lusts. He's limp. He can't summon a boner or ejaculate. He feels like he's floating, no longer controlled by his rank instincts. He told me that he has never felt such relief or contentment in his life. Instead of being a slave to his little head, he can explore his big head. As to his marriage, he and his wife have been together for 40 years and she doesn't miss intercourse at all."
"I know you're crazy and impulsive, but don't tell me you had your prostate removed?"
"I went to Google and everything that my buddy explained about the effects of removing the prostate were true. I had reached a point of no return before I would plunge into the chasm. I still love life. I'm not ready to die, but I have been enfeebled by this endless compulsion. With nothing to lose, I decided to go for it."
"Can you go to the doctor and tell him to remove your prostrate when you have no disease that requires an operation?"
"Not here, but there's Matamoros that has been good to me for so many years. I was given the name of several urologists. The first two looked at me as if I were loco. They joked that they wished they had my problem because both admitted they had suffered from erectile disfunction for years and in so many words divulged they would give their left nut for a romp in the sack."
"Did you find a physician who sympathized with your situation?"
"Fortunately, yes. I told him my lusts had reached the limits and I was going to put a bullet in my brain if I didn't find a cure for my malady. He was a young guy with a carefree attitude. He said for $10,000, including the hospital stay and other procedures and medicines that might be required, he would be more than happy to relieve me of my torment. I underwent laparoscopic surgery shortly thereafter and I was back in Brownsville three days later."
"How long ago did you have the surgery?"
"It's been two weeks."
"How do you feel."
"I'm in post-recovering. With the exception of being a bit tired and weak, I'm a new man even though without my prostate some ladies might consider me half a man."
"So you have no regrets?"
"Nada! Nil! Zero!"
The young gal, whom I found attractive but Doc seemed indifferent, finished and I took the stage. I dedicated the first song to Doc: "I ain't got no money and I ain't got no honey. I ain't got no money and I ain't got no honey. Life can be funny, but it's never been more sunny."
I took a seat next to him. I hadn't seen him for several weeks and he looked wan. I asked him if he had smoked a joint. He seemed super mellow. He laughed and then raised his glass.
"Salud," he said.
"Salud," I replied although the waitress hadn't brought me my wine yet.
"I want you to know that all the anxiety that has afflicted me for years has disappeared. I may be less a man, but I'm more a spirit. I have slayed the animal. I reside in a serene state."
We listened to a gal sing Spanish classics, but, with a drink in my hand, I could no longer contain my curiosity.
"Have you attained nirvana?"
"Yes, I have."
"What was the spiritual path you took that has brought you your tranquility?"
"I didn't take a spiritual path."
"No?"
"I took a physical path."
"I don't follow."
"I had reached a point that I had lost all control of my sexuality. It was so bad that I was thinking about committing suicide, which isn't uncommon for sexual addicts. I was either going to end my life or start anew. I knew, however, that I was deteriorating so fast that I had to implement a drastic measure."
"And what was that?"
"A friend of mine had prostrate cancer that required the removal of the organ. He says that he has completely liberated himself from his libido. He has no sexual fantasies or lusts. He's limp. He can't summon a boner or ejaculate. He feels like he's floating, no longer controlled by his rank instincts. He told me that he has never felt such relief or contentment in his life. Instead of being a slave to his little head, he can explore his big head. As to his marriage, he and his wife have been together for 40 years and she doesn't miss intercourse at all."
"I know you're crazy and impulsive, but don't tell me you had your prostate removed?"
"I went to Google and everything that my buddy explained about the effects of removing the prostate were true. I had reached a point of no return before I would plunge into the chasm. I still love life. I'm not ready to die, but I have been enfeebled by this endless compulsion. With nothing to lose, I decided to go for it."
"Can you go to the doctor and tell him to remove your prostrate when you have no disease that requires an operation?"
"Not here, but there's Matamoros that has been good to me for so many years. I was given the name of several urologists. The first two looked at me as if I were loco. They joked that they wished they had my problem because both admitted they had suffered from erectile disfunction for years and in so many words divulged they would give their left nut for a romp in the sack."
"Did you find a physician who sympathized with your situation?"
"Fortunately, yes. I told him my lusts had reached the limits and I was going to put a bullet in my brain if I didn't find a cure for my malady. He was a young guy with a carefree attitude. He said for $10,000, including the hospital stay and other procedures and medicines that might be required, he would be more than happy to relieve me of my torment. I underwent laparoscopic surgery shortly thereafter and I was back in Brownsville three days later."
"How long ago did you have the surgery?"
"It's been two weeks."
"How do you feel."
"I'm in post-recovering. With the exception of being a bit tired and weak, I'm a new man even though without my prostate some ladies might consider me half a man."
"So you have no regrets?"
"Nada! Nil! Zero!"
The young gal, whom I found attractive but Doc seemed indifferent, finished and I took the stage. I dedicated the first song to Doc: "I ain't got no money and I ain't got no honey. I ain't got no money and I ain't got no honey. Life can be funny, but it's never been more sunny."
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