You Never Know, but Someone Does

I knew a man who everyone thought was a great, great man. And he died many years ago and many people mourned him for many days.

I mean, when I say many years ago, he left this earth before Facebook was invented. Heck, maybe even before email was invented.

But you residents of Facebookland - you know that little "huh?!" you give when you make a new friend, or even look on someone's page, and find you already have a friend in common? Well, this guy and I had a friend in common, although I don't think he would have advertised that fact on Facebook.

The friend in common was a woman we both knew. I knew her as a friend, and he knew her as someone he tried for quite a while to talk into doing the hibbidy-dibbidy with him. And I mean he put on the full-court press, with the phone calls and cards and letters. And he told her of his many other encounters along these lines. I suppose this was to make her feel like it was ok for them to knock boots; I don't know how this game is played. (I almost said I don't know "the ins and outs of this game" there. Paging Dr Freud!)

My friend told me and me alone about this, and I wouldn't violate that trust, then or now. And I don't know if the other guy even knew I knew the object of his adulterous affections. Everyone in this whole situation was married, you see. Some of us, a little more seriously than he, but still, married.

So when he passed away, it was sudden and unplanned, and the outpouring of grief was splendid, and among the mourners, only two of us knew what else he had going on.

I thought of this because someone else mentioned the name of a guy with whom I worked years ago in another profession. This fellow unfortunately passed away, and as with the first guy here, it was sudden and unforeseen.

And when his widow came to clean out his desk and belongings, she was given a box with his office stuff: framed photos, desk calendars, pens, pencils, porno gear, restraining devices, aphrodisiacs.

I guess the message is clear. First of all, I'm not judging. I am a major stockholder in the firm of Live & Let Live when it comes to everyone else's sex lives, as long as you don't scare the horses in the streets. We all have attics and storerooms in the big house we build in life, and I have learned that it's better to keep them clear of clutter, and things you wouldn't want friends or family or neighbors to see.

I'm sorry for becoming all ponderous today. Tomorrow, we laugh.