Watching Women

There are certain things that I like to watch a woman do. None of the things described below is meant to be racy, risqué or a double entendre. They are just regular things that for some reason or another I like to see a woman do. I know you must be thinking that this is one of the dumbest blog entries that I have every posted. But I don’t completely agree with that sentiment. I have posted plenty of dumb entries and I am pretty certain I will be posting a bunch more dumb entries in the future. This entry is merely one train car on the train of dumb blogs. If I have not already completely lost you, I am sure by the time you get to the end of this blog, you will either believe you have completely wasted you time or you might start thinking what things that you like to see a woman do.

I like to see a good woman golfer play golf. The Lovely Sharon is a very good golfer and I love to watch her play golf. Many of her friends in Palm Desert and in Salt Lake are very good golfers. I like to see them swing the club, I like to see their passion for the game, I like to see their disappointment over a bad shot and how they don’t over celebrate on a good shot. For them to hit a good shot is not such a rare ocurrence.  Hell, if I hit a good shot, which happens about three times a year, I do a stupid moon walk dance that is probably illegal in some countries. I usually couple this dance with turning my hat backwards and getting a very stupid grin on my face. I lift my arms and shake my shoulders in a spastic display of what looks like the complete loss of muscle control.   It is such an usual and uncommon experience for me to hit a good shot, that I imagine that I must feel like the first astronaut to walk on the moon, or the first man to come upon the Grand Canyon, or Sarah Palin when she first saw Russia from her front door. When the Lovely Sharon hits a good shot, she calmly puts her club back in her golf bag and moves on down for her next shot.

I like to see a woman on a ladder doing something. Fixing a vent, or replacing a light bulb or dusting something. Yesterday in Palm Desert, the Lovely Sharon had to check out some light bulbs on a ledge in our family room. I brought the ladder into the house. She climbed the ladder and was checking things out as I sat on the couch. She looked kind of cute up there. I then thought about the other times I have seen women on ladders and I realized they all look kind of cute up there. There is nothing risqué about my thoughts about this. I am not talking about looking at anything inappropriate. Just a woman in jeans or shorts or in Sharon’s case yesterday, golf clothes, on a ladder doing something that needs to be done. I think you will agree with me that there is nothing special about a man on a ladder. It is for that reason that I sat on the couch and drank a glass of ice water while the Lovely Sharon was on the ladder. I knew that my presence on the ladder would bring no particular joy or be of any interest to Sharon.  So I decided to celebrate her ladder adventure from the couch.

I like to see a woman reading a book while wearing reading glasses. Seeing her sitting in a comfortable chair with a book in her hands and glasses on her nose is just a nice sight to see. Most times younger women, just like younger men, do not need reading glasses. So the woman that fits this category for me is a more mature woman; late thirties on. This woman knows stuff about life and the world. She has opinions about things that matter. She may be single or married, she may work outside of the home or she may not. She is reading for knowledge or entertainment but she is usually a substantive person in her own right. I love to read and I have many male friends who are readers. But somehow to see a man read just isn’t as interesting as watching a woman read. Maybe its because the men moving their lips is a distraction (ok I know bad joke). But is true; watch a woman wearing glasses read a book compared to a man wearing glasses read a book. Who is more interesting to watch? 

I like to watch a woman buy shoes. If a man buys shoes, he walks into the shoe store or shoe department. Sees a black pair of shoes and within 3 minutes he has tried them on and completed the purchase. Go into Macy’s and find a nice soft seat in the ladies shoe department. Being married to the Lovely Sharon, I spend a lot of time in shoe stores and shoe departments and I have become an educated observer of women buying shoes. I, in fact, am a frequent buyer of shoes for Sharon.  The discerning woman shoe shopper often starts at the "on sale" shoe rack.  She pretty much picks up each pair of shoes in her size and the sizes near her size. She looks at the bottom of the shoe, the inside of the shoe and, if she at least sort of likes it, she tries it on. Frequently she will lift the foot with the shoe candidate off of the ground and turn her toes to the left and then to the right. Then she flexes her foot so the toes are pointed up as far as they can.   She then decides to put them back on the rack if they have been rejected or she sets them aside for future consideration. In my experience, there are at least two separate analysis undertakings before the purchase decision is made.  From here she continues through the “on sale” shoes. After that analysis is exhausted, she moves on to the shoes that are not “on sale” and the process continues. When the Lovely Sharon goes into a shoe store, she leaves no stone unturned. Every potential shoe purchase candidate is looked at and considered. It is almost like the purchaser of a thoroughbred horse looking at a horse. She checks the teeth, the hooves, the tail, and the eyes. She checks out the pedigree and then makes her decision. You don’t want to get home from the shoe store and realize you bought a nag.

There are a number of things I hate to watch women do and I have mentioned them in other blog entries. They include watching them (from behind) at a bank drive through or a fast food drive through. This is painful for me to do. It always makes me glad that I don’t have a anti-aircraft gun mounted on the hood of my car. If I did, I would no doubt use it.

So if you made it this far you are probably wondering why you bothered. Well I thought it was interesting.