I've been reluctant to delve into how my psycho-sexual character developed but figure some readers may find the following details relevant to what initiated my Nirvikalpa Samadhi and how its legacy has played out in my old age.
I was born in 1928, the fourth child of my parents. My mother and father were an idyllic couple romantically fallen in love just before the outbreak of World War I. She was the daughter of a minister and he the son of a reasonably wealthy inventor and businessman. Their romance was cut short by the outbreak of war and he joined the field artillery and served two years in the brutal trench warfare of France. At wars end they married and my dad applied his inventive gene to create Toy Krofters Ltd. which manufactured and marketed a line of innovative, high-end educational toys- Bookie Blocks and Bookie Reel, that featured Grimm's fairy tales illustrated by his artist sister. The business thrived in the postwar boom so that by the time I was born the family had moved into a 16-room mansion overlooking the Hudson River in Beacon, NY. Then the tragedy of the Great Depression in the blink of an eye wiped out the family's hard-won fortune in bankruptcy. Thus when I was 5 years old the sad struggle of my parents to support 4 kids began. They rented an old house in Rockville Centre Long Island where my dad commuted to NYC in a dreary job as an inspector for the Otis Elevator Co. This defeat utterly crushed his self esteem and he became a bitter alcoholic- mentally abusing my poor mother. To make ends meet she turned our house into a nursery school- driving kids to and fro 6 days a week for the next 25 years.
01/27/2017 Update: Only recently I realized I've suffered a life-long psychological affliction now identified as SAD (Social Anxiety Disorder). End Update
Until I turned 17 and joined the navy (the same year my father died of a four-pack-a-day addiction) my entire youth was spent enduring their regular quarrels which seemed always on the verge of physical violence although only one episode resulted in serious bloodshed. This relentless trauma caused me to become fairly neurotic and posed a challenge for my developing skills for normal socializing that I never fully acquired.
I don't have a clear memory of the time line for my sexual development but I'd guess I discovered auto arousal at a normal age for adolescence and underwent a brief period in which my childhood pal Alan and I took turns jerking each other off. This ended when without explanation Alan broke off our unromantic escapades. I'd never received a birds and bees or facts-of-life sermon so my awareness of the role of sex was retarded and highly idealistic. I think I was 13 before being shocked to learn from some older kids that my parents had to have engaged in the "dirty" act of intercourse to conceive me. Probably from experiencing the tragedy of my parents relationship- I developed a highly idealized concept of boy-girl relationships and remember praying nightly to God all during my last year in grammar school that I marry the object of my adolescent affection- Charlotte Kearns and 'live-happily-ever-after'. This sexual naiveté combined with my clinical shyness made it painful for me to try to fit into the high school culture of 'cool clicks', dating and dancing. Since all social functions featured dancing, the few events I forced myself to show up at were sessions of overwhelming self-consciousness and dread which were nails in the coffin of my reputation as an eligible date. The ongoing social anguish impacted all aspects of my school studies and by the time of my junior year I was ready to quit high school. The war had made little significant impact, although at 16 I had joined the NY national guard and advanced to corporal in a machine gun platoon where I learned to field strip our Browning water-cooled 30.06 and actually had one session of firing single rounds at targets at a thousand yards. I was issued a colt 45 revolver with ammunition and remember setting up a firing range in the basement of my poor mothers home- she had converted to support the family for the past ten years with a nursery school. At the time she was hosting a party for a group of parents upstairs I proceeded to blithely fire off some rounds against a big saw blade from my dad's old factory that deflected the shots into a box of sand. I suppose she had to explain it was all in the name of national defense for the war effort.
The year was 1945 and the war in the pacific was still raging so I enlisted in the USNR when I turned 17 but by the time I was half way thru my Aviation Mechanics training course the atomic bombs had ended the war in the Pacific and I was sent to a CASU unit in Rhode Island to essentially start my processing for discharge. (I was thus spared the tragic fate of 90% of the Aviation Mechanics in the Pacific war who served double duty in combat as tail gunners in TBM torpedo bombers- where entire squadrons were wiped out in attacks on Japanese warships.)
I returned home to complete my senior year in high school and although as an older guy I was now an object of interest for some really hot senior babes to date, had achieved no more sophistication than when I had left a year earlier. I'm sure my dates were pretty dissappointing for them as I still had this idealistic notion as to how far it was morally right to go and never carried a necking session beyond mere titillation. This retarded notion that foreplay was the respectable limit for casual sex meant I was destined to keep my virginity until I belatedly graduated from high school and entered my freshman year at Hofstra College where I finally attained dates with some young ladies that made it known they just wanted to have real sex. From that point on I slowly developed enough social skills to pick up girls for perfunctory sex without any notion about learning how to enhance my performance- so was probably a lousy lay due to premature ejaculation. It wasn't until I was 27 and met Peggy Strickland, an advertising sales rep, my same age, who thought I was good in bed- specifically being impressed with the longevity of my intercourse that enabled her orgasm- that I developed some confidence and self-esteem about my sexual prowess and we wound up getting married after a year of romance. Our marriage lasted three years mainly breaking up over my promiscuity and my failure to commit to a monogamous relationship- never having adopted a real sense of responsibility to a partner perhaps over my distrust over the institution of marriage from the example of the dysfunctional one of my parents. From my association of parenting and relationships with trauma, I had decided early on that I never wanted to have kids and Peggy was focused on her advertising career so despite the use of a diaphragm she twice became pregnant which resulted in our making two trips to a Cuban clinic.
Over the next ten years I was primarily obsessed with making a career with my passion for scuba diving and sex was a sideline of casual episodes with a variety of young ladies. With my asocial disposition, I rather forced myself to be assertive and opportunistic about approaching random ladies and during a time when I adopted a posture as an artist looking for attractive models to paint, I talked a young girl sitting on a bench in Waterfront Park in Coconut Grove to scrunch down in a provocative pose for a painting I had in mind. This resulted in my first effort at painting. She thought the photo I mailed to her of my rendering was awesome but when she showed it to her father, he forbade her to ever see me again!
Due perhaps to my general social immaturity, around age 38 I became particularly attracted to young teenage girls and had my first such relationship with Mara who was 17. This was a time when I was transitioning from scuba diving to being a technician operating Edgerton Deep Sea Stereo camera systems which allowed me to be less health-conscious and discover the joys and aphrodisiac effects of cannabis. Our sex was pretty intense and on one occasion I had smuggled some potent hashish in from Istanbul where I had completed work on one of our Marine Lab oceanographic projects. The effects of this hash were so extreme that I was concerned that I might sexually abuse Mara and after our first session under its frenetic influence, I threw the stash away- much to her annoyance.
Around that time I had read one of those inspirational books about how to become rich by buying affordable residential real estate, making improvements and renting it out. I had invested just at the start of the housing market boom in Coconut Grove in the late '60s. By age 42 I had quit working at the Marine Laboratory and owned three properties including one of the big homes in one of three historic, upscale compounds famous in the early development of Coral Gables. Each was composed of eight small mansions- all modeled after either of three architectural themes- English, French and Chinese. My house was in the Chinese Village and near the University of Miami campus so I planned to set up my separate apartment downstairs and rent the four bedrooms and two baths upstairs to female students who would share the downstairs kitchen. Not coincidentally- I fantasized that this might present occasional opportunities for my hooking up with some of my coed tenants. No question that my fantasy drew some inspiration from the 1963 film Under the Yum Yum Tree starring Jack Lemmon.
For the past five years I had been in the habit of taking long walks from Crandon Park out to the Lighthouse at the south end of Key Biscayne and developed various lines to engage young ladies in non-threatening conversation to feel out the possibility for a 'pick up' or to make a date for a sail in my catamaran. I was becoming fairly skilled in the art and managed to score fairly regularly so along with escapades with some of my tenants, was leading a rather idyllic hedonistic lifestyle that included considerable time sailing or paddling Biscayne Bay in a 22 foot dugout canoe I had picked up during an oceanographic cruise to Peru. At the same time, I kept a realistic grip on my business responsibility and was totally removed from any rock & roll drug culture, so there was no risk that it would escalate into self-destructive excesses.
It was on one of my hikes that I spotted Patti Brown who had just arrived on the beach and was in the process of setting up her blanket. I watched her lithe young body circle the blanket meticulously making adjustments until she settled down like a satisfied cat in its newly created bed. This was the line I used when I first approached her and apparently made an immediate impression because she actually had a cat that behaved in the same manner. Patti had just turned 17 and was a high school junior and we eventually became seriously involved in a passionate relationship. Within a few months she inadvertently gifted me my spontaneous, Nirvikalpa Samadhi experience and when she graduated from high school left to live with me in the Green Lake Lodge I had purchased in North Carolina. Within a couple of years we split up reasonably amicably due largely to my utter failure to adopt a sense of mature, monogamous responsibility and nurture her love.
Only after my sex drive started to fail in my late 50s did I put aside my pursuit of teenagers and get involved in a couple of loving relationships with women in their mid 40s. During this period I was on a mission to save our natural habitats and wildlife- first with photography and videos- then with paintings. In 1997 I began my mission to chronicle my effort to integrate my Nirvikalpa Samadhi on the Maya-Gaia website and in 2006 gave up on my art- feeling it was irrelevant in the face of all the wonderful media promoting environmental causes. Since that time I've led a socially reclusive, asexual life with no female companionship and stay involved in nature conservation as webmaster for our local chapter of National Audubon Society. Although I still find teenage girls especially attractive, I have learned to subdue all arousal- because I know they are romantically inaccessible in my old age. I have become uninterested in girls of any age who sell sex although all during my thirties on oceanographic cruises to Cuba, Jamaica and Recife, Brazil I had no inhibitions about enjoying the ladies of all races who sold sex. In regards to race, before my affair with Mara I had a year-long affair with Nicole, a black airline stewardess with Pan Am. She was descended from slaves brought to the island of Guadaloupe, was college educated, had a lovely French accent, was totally alienated from stereotypical 'Black American' pop culture, plus (at the risk of revealing my shallowness) the anatomy of her buns was sheer perfection- altogether the most exotic of all my sexual partners. We bombed around on my Honda motorcycle which so offended some anonymous white or black racist that one night, with lethal intent, he sabotaged my front tire with a blowout spike that I discovered just as we were taking off the next morning- in time to avoid a tragedy.