F.D.R. (F*ck Da Rich) The Great 31st Wedding Anniversary RV Adventure
F.D.R. (F*ck Da Rich)
Love, Lust, Trust & Going Bust on Wheels... from the Capitalocene to the Bonobocene
by Dr. Susan Block.
The best-laid plans may not get you laid the way you planned… and the flimsier your plans, the more likely they’ll fall through rather than come true.
And so it was that our Great (mostly unplanned) 31st Wedding Anniversary RV Adventure turned into a great big bust—and not the good kind of bust!
Of course, “the goal is the journey,” and there were a few fabulous Kodak moments—and lots of love (always lots of love)—on this ill-fated voyage from Bonoboville to nowhere and back.
Cowgirl Stockings and Squirting Friends
Our anniversarial misadventure started promisingly enough.
I was wary of Capt’n Max’s plan-free plan, but buoyed by his exuberant “Trust Me” assurances. Besides, it felt good to stretch unused muscles, put on a little makeup, sexy underwear, my traditional “Kiss Me – Love Me – Marry Me” stockings and a shimmering necklace the color of the sea on a sunny day (which it wasn’t), handmade for our 14th Wedding Anniversary (or maybe it was our 10th) by the beautiful and talented Lisa Ann Davis, one of the legendary Nymphs of Zorbacchus who danced nude every Spring around our anniversary.
After my special day of Shock and No Awe, I did my best to shake off the pain with a little pleasure, aka sex.
Cutting to the chase (or retreat), here it was, our Big Day—but instead of regaling our great romance and marital longevity with toasts, treats and kisses—my darling husband was fuming on the phone, telling off various people (who shall not be named), as he decisively turned the motorhome around and BACK to Bonoboville.
Meanwhile, there I was, waking up in the RV caboose to what I thought would be a festive, dreamy day, but instead I’d arisen to an anniversary-ending nightmare that left me wondering why this was happening to me? Poor me.
Unless you’re tRump, the “poor me” position can only be maintained for so long, especially knowing your fellow humans and other living things are suffering so much more than being jilted on their wedding anniversary. So, after my special day of Shock and No Awe, I did my best to shake off the pain with a little pleasure, aka sex. That worked to some extent (sex heals a billion times more than it kills!), and then there’s the somewhat cathartic release of talking about it on this show.
Of course, Max offers his point of view in which he is utterly innocent, responsible and caring, and I am the unreasonable (albeit adorable) one. Thus, as we listen to each other, the gradual, somewhat grudging, but very real process of bonobo conflict resolution takes place on this deeply intimate, somewhat soul-searching, rather hilarious and insightfully revealing episode of FDR.
Hop on the Love Train for more gory and glorious details, though I will say—spoiler alert!—we survived.
Anniversary Buried by Avalanche!
Our surviving (and thriving) was partly due to following another one of my other bonoboësque mottos: Make love first to make love last. Essentially, it was a good thing we had orgasmic senior sex before and after our anniversary, because the day itself was virtually buried under an avalanche of technical snafus and emotions.
At least, it wasn’t an actual physical avalanche of rocks, mud and scorpions which threatened us from the east as the sprawling Pacific glittered in the west for just a few glorious moments before it was swallowed up by an “avalanche” of elephantine slate-grey clouds.
As the sun set on our mini-Motorhome Motor Tour, we realized we were as hungry as the barking seals in the Ventura Harbor where we found ourselves ravenously “consuming” (Max’s favorite verb for the Capitalocene) mediocre fish, a decent Mojito and a very tasty, creamy anniversary cake.
Little did I know this would be the high point of the whole excursion (even though Max pushed the cake away like it harbored a bomb), as our anniversary would be—essentially—canceled the next day!
Dead Fishermen Fap Too
We stopped for a selfie at a Dead Fisherman’s Memorial which you can hear all about on this show, including the selling off of the sacred dead fisherman plaques to anyone with a death certificate and 200 bucks (always “consuming,” even in death) in bemused detail.
The dead fisherman’s memorial itself is a pretty cool piece of folk art, the best part (for us) being that, if you squint, one of the statues looks like he’s masturbating as he checks us out from behind.
Speaking of horns, we also talk about threesomes (me and Leanne French-kissing as we give Max head), Pan, Satan, me being the G.O.A.T.—or just an old goat—and Baphomet of the Knights Templar with various commenters, as well as Brady who calls in as “Hannah,” a proxy which I peg as “digital drag,” and Brady/Hannah has to agree. They also ask us how we manage to stay married and in love—despite more than a few snafus like this avalanche-entombed anniversary—and for our brilliant and nuanced answers, listen to FDR…
Our old friend Chris Gagliardi also calls in, having had a big health scare, but he’s alive and back to thriving, unlike so many of our friends and lovers who are dropping like flies… and flies dying in greater numbers, thanks to accelerating climate change and the collapse of the Capitalocene.
Of course, the U.S. Military Industrial-Complex is the world’s biggest killer—not to mention worst for the climate—and we talk about how hungry it is now (hungrier than those barking seals at Dead Fisherman’s Wharf!) for fresh meat, aka recruits. It seems that despite economic downturns and lack of opportunity, most people don’t want to be cannon fodder for a sprawling war machine that—at the very best—will give them a case of PTSD.
Sexual Fears, Grinding Gears & Quentin Tarantino’s Foot Fetish
Somehow, we get into Quentin Tarantino’s recent inane and pretty erotophobic statement, “sex is not part of my vision of cinema” in an interview. Maybe not sex-positive, romantic or “vanilla” sex, but his films do feature sexual violence and quite a bit of foot fetish. Go figure, but in any case, that probably means we won’t be showing Deep Throat at the New Beverly Cinema, but there are others! More soon…
We also talk about fear, one of our most primal feelings. A little bit of fear can be an aphrodisiac but too much can turn into crippling terror, or maybe *just* boner-ending performance anxiety. Listen up as we explore ways to handle all kinds of fear.
Though this ride has plenty of bumps, fears and grinding gears, it does reach the station with a Happy Ending… which is only the beginning of the rest of the journey.
The “Great 31st Wedding Anniversary RV Adventure” Photo Gallery
© April 15, 2023 Susan Block, Ph.D., a.k.a. “Dr. Suzy,” is a world renowned LA sex therapist, author of The Bonobo Way: The Evolution of Peace through Pleasure and horny housewife, occasionally seen on HBO and other channels. For speaking engagements, call 626-461-5950.
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