Posts by Joan Price
Are you having sex? What does that mean?
It’s important for us to redefine what we mean by “having sex” and being “sexually active,” especially with our changing bodies, relationships, and circumstances as we age.
- How old are you, and how would you define “having sex” or being “sexually active” at this age?
- Do you consider solo sex to be “real” sex? Why or why not?
- If you were surveyed about whether you are sexually active, how would you answer? What would you mean by that answer?
- Has your doctor or other medical professional asked you about whether you’re sexually active?
- If you asked your doctor or other medical professional about a sex-related concern? How did that go?
#AdultSexEdMonth
Remembering Robert today
I’m missing Robert terribly today. Tomorrow is Father’s Day. I’m reminded of the beautiful photo that his son, Mitch Rice, posted on his Facebook page last Father’s Day.
I never knew Robert as the dashing 50-year-old dancer in the photo — he was 64 when we met (still dashing and still a dancer!), and I was 57. Looking back, we were youngsters. I’m now 71; he would have been 78. How I wish we could have grown old together.
In case you’re new to our story, Robert and I had exactly seven years together — first kiss to last kiss — before we lost him to cancer. Our love story catapulted me into this world I inhabit now, the world of writing and speaking about senior sex. This August, I will have had as many years without him as with him.
Today I bought a new car. I sold Robert’s 2006 Volvo, which I had been driving since he died. It felt like one more letting-go to sell his car. A few months ago, my 16-year-old cat Amo died. Robert had never liked a cat before, let alone loved one. He loved Amo. I know that my memories of Robert won’t fade just because my cat died and his car is gone, but it feels like some pages of our time together have been ripped out, or maybe I’m living chapters of a new book that doesn’t include him. I don’t know if I’m making sense, or even if it’s a good idea to write this for my public blog instead of my private journal — perhaps you’ll tell me.
And yet, much as I still ache to hold my sweet Robert, to kiss his warm lips and hear his loving voice, I’m never truly without him. He’s here in my house with his art adorning my walls. He sends me bird chirps and flowers and the occasional salamander. He rustles the trees and smiles at me on the dance floor. He tells me how proud he is when I finish a new book — a book he’ll never get to read.
Sybian Sex!
I have a new lover, pet, and housemate. Its name is Sybian. How do I describe Sybian? Can I call a 22-pound, vibrating, mountable, power tool a “vibrator”? That’s like calling the Sydney Opera House (which I plan to visit in September!) a music device. Do you want to know my Sybian review?
The Sybian is a big, curved apparatus designed to be mounted. You attach the attachment of choice, apply lubricant to the attachment and to yourself, straddle the Sybian, sit on it, turn the dial to control the sensations, and enjoy.
You can rock or you can just sit upright and let the Sybian do all the work. It’s not a bucking bronco — you won’t be tossed off.
Oh yes, it vibrates. Whoa, does it vibrate! It has a powerful motor, and, and depending on how high you turn the dial, the vibrations go from subtle to strong to 50 shades of holy moly!
Many of the photos and videos show a woman mounting the Sybian with her knees on the floor, but at our age, few of us would be comfortable that way. No problem — put it on a stable, elevated platform so that your feet can be on the floor. I recommend the optional storage cabinet that doubles as 3-level risers. That way, you can straddle it comfortably while sitting upright with your feet on the floor.
The cabinet is also useful because the Sybian is big and heavy — 22 pounds — so it’s not easy to carry or tuck away when not in use. The cabinet is built for it, hides it nicely, and has a separate storage area for attachments as well as a lock in case your visiting grandkids get nosy!
If straddling is uncomfortable for your hips, or if you can’t relax that way, you can lie down on your bed with the Sybian between your legs on its power-cord end. Then tilt it forward so that the attachment contacts your genitals without putting weight on you. It’s fine to use it this way — it won’t harm the Sybian or you.
The attachments give you a variety of choices: two for clitoral stimulation without penetration, a variety of options for clitoral pleasure with vaginal penetration, and one with a double dildo for vaginal and anal penetration. The Basic Sybian Package comes with two attachments; you buy additional ones separately or as a kit.
The insertable attachments don’t thrust. They vibrate and, using a separate control dial, they can rotate. It’s a different feeling if you’re used to thrusting.
You may find, as I did, that it took a half-dozen Sybian encounters to discover just the right combination of position, attachments, and intensities that work for you.
You may find, for example, that you get best results by starting with a non-penetrative attachment and switching to penetration when you’re fully aroused. You may find that spending 10 minutes on a low to medium speed vibration will get you ready for a higher speed, or that you like penetration with just a little rotation or a lot, or maybe that changes as you get closer to orgasm. Explore, and don’t get frustrated if it takes some experimentation before you experience earth-shaking orgasms. Important: Read the instructions first — don’t go straight to a discovery mission.
Pros:
- If you need strong stimulation, you can’t find a sexual pleasure tool that’s stronger than this.
- You can have all the sex you want: clitoral stimulation with or without penetration, with or without a partner.
- Attachments let you individualize it to your preference.
- Use it solo, or have a partner participate and enjoy your pleasure by watching or holding you or controlling the dial.
- If you like penetration, the insertable part can be slender (the finger attachment, pictured on the purple Sybian), jumbo, or some girthiness in between, depending on which attachment you choose.
- You can try it for 45 days, and if you don’t fall in love with it, you can return it for a full refund minus a $175 reconditioning fee. That’s an amazing deal.
Cons:
- It’s a learning curve — not just how to use it (follow the instructions, please — don’t just turn it on!), but how to adapt it for your individual needs and optimal pleasure. (This doesn’t have to be a “con” if you let go of expectations of instant orgasms and enjoy the journey.)
- Heavy, making it hard to move.
- It’s really loud. I was afraid that my close neighbors would think an airplane was taking off in my bedroom. If you don’t have privacy, this will be a problem.
- It costs $1,345.
I know I’ll get some criticism for recommending a $1,345 purchase. It’s not a sex toy — it’s a whole different category.
Here’s an idea if you have a few friends who are interested and the cost is stopping you: get together and get the 45-day trial, purchasing extra attachments for each of you. Since only the attachment comes in contact with your genitals, maybe you’d feel comfortable sharing the Sybian — a few days at your house, then put in in the car and take it to friend #1’s house, then to friend #2, and so on. I know some people who bought one in common and schedule who gets it on a weekly rotating basis.
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| Bunny Lampert shows Joan the Sybian |
The Sybian was invented by Dave Lampert in 1985, and it’s still a family business. The inventor’s daughter, Bunny Lampert, told me, “He was always curious about women and their orgasms — what was happening, and why it was so difficult. What could he create that would be designed for women’s sexual pleasure and nothing else?” Clearly, he figured it out!
Learn more about the Sybian here. If you have one, or have tried one, or have questions, I hope you’ll add your comments below.
The Years by Nicholas Delbanco
It isn’t often that I find a novel to recommend to you that portrays characters our age in a way that’s relevant, realistic, and insightful about aging and relationships. As a reader, I want to connect with characters and plot lines that I can relate to at this time of my life (age 71 as I write this) via beautifully crafted fiction.
The Years by Nicholas Delbanco is a splendid example of the kind of book I love to read. It’s literary fiction, not a quick or mindless read. It’s achingly honest about aging.
How did it happen, Lawrence wondered, that the person in the mirror was sprouting liver spots and wrinkles and hair in his nostrils and ears?
You’ll invest some brain power in following the non-chronological sequencing. We meet Lawrence and Hermia when they re-meet in 2004 on a cruise ship after more than 40 years apart. He’s 64; she’s 63. The book flits back and forth from 2004 to their past. We learn how they met and fell in love in college, how they broke up and drifted apart, different relationships that shaped each of them as they journeyed through their lives, and the scars and regrets they carry with them.
They leaned toward each other, pressed against each other, and she wondered what her breasts would feel like if he kissed them as he used to, and what would happen next. She saw them in the mirror, two bent gray heads adjacent in the ornate gilt-framed glass, saw them touching lips and cheeks as though performing for the camera in some sort of time-lapse photograph, a present overlay upon the past.
Yes, we can anticipate that this chance meeting will lead to a renewed love connection, but the book is still not predictable. In the latter half of the book, we move forward through the time after they reconnect. There are surprises, which I won’t reveal, and even the predictable parts are nuanced, never trite.
It’s rare to find a novel that speaks realistically about love and aging and includes sex. The sex scenes are tender, slow to unfold, and not graphic. For example:
They had been passionate together the way the young are passionate, and nothing in her life before had readied her for how they fit together or how she, holding him, felt … That passion was not spent. It was spent in the physical sense, of course; she could no longer manage, and he could not manage, the revels of the young … But it was like The Tempest; it was everything restored, made whole, old treacheries forgiven and old arguments resolved. What had been lost was found. They were gentle together now, slow. It was strange to be so much in love with someone she had loved before and known so well and parted from and then spent more than forty years not knowing….
I found the writing masterful. I put post-its throughout my copy to remind me of pages I wanted to return to, and this photo shows what my book looks like now.
The Amazon ratings are mixed, and I’d love to know the age breakdown for those who loved and those who were bored by this novel. I suspect that the negative reviews were by younger readers or those who don’t have patience for literary fiction that is slow to unfold. At our age, we know that life is slow to unfold, and we don’t need to rush a book any more than we have to rush sex these days! I can’t imagine readers in their sixties and beyond being unmoved by this novel.
If what I’ve written here intrigues you, I hope you’ll read The Years and post your own comments.
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| Nicholas Delbanco, born 1942 |