Anyone who has read my blog even casually knows at least a few of my foibles. Although I try to avoid excessive hand wringing, I aim for honesty here, hoping at least a few of you sharing the bell curve with me may occasionally see yourself reflected through my flaws.
Still, one flaw I am grateful to have sidestepped is my gender's propensity for routinely putting their lives in the blender via sexual shenanigans. When the Jeffrey Toobin story recently surfaced, once again I uttered a silent prayer of thanksgiving for what my Father modeled when I was a young man. Now my head, my heart, and even my intuition have failed me more times than I can count. But my private parts have thankfully remained right where they belong. Thank you, Dad, again.
Throughout my life, I've had more than a few Jimmy Carter-ish lust-in-my-heart moments. And I would guess my list of stupid, ill-advised actions over the seventy + years I've been upright would rival the list of almost anyone. But today's reflection ends with good news, at least for me: So far, whenever those Jimmy Carter moments have occurred, my head, my heart, and my intuition spoke louder to me than my genitals.