Eleven Minutes...

[JuIcE_Y]

Haha

"I don't pay for sex. I pay for the woman to leave after sex."

Ben,
I love it!

XXXXX

 

[shaumaman]

You may be interested to know that Kerouac was of French Canadian ancestry, although he grew up in New York City.

EB,
I beg to differ, Jack Kerouac was born and raised in Lowell, MA.
He was also tendered a football scholarship to Boston College.
At Columbia, he broke his leg playing ball his freshman year,
fought with his coach and never resumed playing Ivy football.

 

[JuIcE_Y]

so right

Ben,
I really agree with what you are saying. As a woman, there is nothing that frustrates me more then a man who will fuck me and leave, or expect me to leave. It makes me feel like a total piece of crap, takes away the magic, the fun. When I meet a guy I like to have the whole experience, not just the fuck or the foreplay. I want him to do it again an hour later and I want to sleep close to him, even if its bound to end up in a one night thing. Of course things are different when dealing with this buisiness. the girls are there to please and be at the mans service, and that includes leaving when the man wants, and its perfect that way. Just wanted to say that what you are saying rings true to me in my regular girl encounters... its always nice to have more attention.

See ya!

XXXXX

 

[EagerBeaver]

I beg to differ, Jack Kerouac was born and raised in Lowell, MA.He was also tendered a football scholarship to Boston College.
At Columbia, he broke his leg playing ball his freshman year,
fought with his coach and never resumed playing Ivy football.

That's true, but Keouac lived in New York City for quite some time, as I understand it. I believe he moved from Lowell to NYC, actually before he attended Columbia. From what I read, he was quite good in football before the injury, but did quit the Columbia team due to clashes with the Coach. I was not aware that BC also offered him a scholarship to play football. Obviously, the guy was a very good athlete.

It should be noted that Kerouac lived a very tragic life, filled with a failed marriage and severe alcoholism, which ultimately led to his premature death from cirhossis of the liver at age 47, in 1969. Prior to this time he had become estranged from Ginsburg and many of his other "beat" friends due to the Vietnam War. He supported it, they didn't. At the time of his death he had had remarried and moved to Tampa, Florida to live with his elderly mother.

Neal Cassady, Kerouac's lifelong buddy and on whom the main character in "On The Road" was based, drank himself into a stupor and was found dead on railroad tracks in Mexico in February 1968, a little over a year and a half before Kerouac died.

 

[Waynegrow2]

Cassady as his 'life-long buddy' can also be read as 'lover'.

 

[General Gonad]

By the ways, regarding Kerouac, you may be interested to know that he was a star halfback on the Columbia University football team. However, Kerouac is not even the most famous former Columbia athlete, not by a long shot. The most famous former Columbia athlete was a man who attended Columbia on a full scholarship, studied engineering and starred on Columbia's baseball team. Do you know who I am talking about?

EB et al.,

Thank you for for the recommendations, I will read them. BTW, I do not know who that other athlete is. Wasn't it Lou Gehrig?

GG

 

[General Gonad]

3. EB -- you could only be talking about Lou Gehrig

Yes, EB was talking about the great one:

http://www.lougehrig.com/about/bio.htm

When I die, and if there is a God, I want to meet this legend and shake his hand.

GG

P.S. Forgive me, I did not read the thread all the way though.

 

[BigPickle]

"But he wasn't. While most of humanity was scrabbling for a piece of bread, a roof over their head and a job that would allow them to live with dignity, Ralf Hart had all of that, and it only made him feel more wretched. If he looked back on what his life had been lately, e had perhaps managed two or three days when he had woken up, looked at the sun - or the rain - and felt glad to see the morning, just happy without wanting anything, planning anything or asking anything in exchange. Apart from those few days, the rest of his existence had been wasted on dreams, both frustrated and realized - a desire to go beyond himself, to go beyond his limitations; he had spent his life trying to prove something but he didn't know what or to whom.

He looked at the beautiful woman before him, who was discreetly dressed in black, someone he had met by chance, although he he had seen her before at the nightclub and thought that she seemed out of place. She had asked him to desire her, and he desired her intensely, far more than he could imagine, but it wasn't her breasts or her body, it was her company he desired. He wanted to put his arms around her and sit in silence, staring into the fire,drinking wine, smoking the occasional cigarette; that would be enough. Life was made up of all simple things; he was weary of all the years he had spent searching for something, though quite what he didn't know.

An yet, if he did that, if he touched her, all would be lost. For, despite the "light" he could see in Maria, he wasn't sure she realized how good it was for him to be by her side. Was he paying? Yes, and he would continue paying as long as it took to win her, to sit with her by the lakeside and speak of love, and to hear her say the same thing. It was best not to take any chances, not to rush things, not to say anything.

Ralf Hart stopped tormenting himself and concentrated once more on the game they had just created together. The woman before him was right; the wine, the fire, the cigarettes and the company were not enough in themselves; another kind of intoxication was required.

She was wearing a black dress with shoulder straps; she was revealing one breast; he could see her skin, more dark than pale. He desired her. He desired her intensely."

I can see myself in that passage and it makes me rather sad.