A reader takes the logic of Christopher Ryan one step further:
I’m getting married in three weeks, so I’ve been thinking a lot of family and commitment. My wife-to-be and I aren’t going to have kids, but I wonder if there’s a surrogate that achieves what is described in this report: namely pets. We have two dogs. Like you with yours, we consider ourselves family; they are surrogate children to us. Could I experience the same thing, but not with actual human children? Fascinating.
An Episcopal priest writes:
I find myself a bit flummoxed at the last couple of sentences in your piece about testosterone: "Marriage with kids, whatever else it's about, is not primarily about sex. A little more candor about that might help deal with delusional expectations." Marriage is about a multiplicity of things.
While not scientific, but important for our religious narrative about marriage, the American Book of Common Prayer 1979 says that marriage is "intended by God for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity." The rite goes on to talk about procreation of children (at times and in some cases) and bringing them up in the knowledge and love of the Lord.
Sex is a part of that "mutual joy" spoken of in the first purpose of marriage. The church of the High Middle Ages would have seen sex ONLY in a functionalistic way, i.e. ONLY for procreation. (Thank God we've turned the corner on that one.)
Sometimes raising and nurturing children does interrupt or inhibit people's sex lives. It's good that mutual joy is not built on sex alone. That doesn't mean that married people with children somehow lead sexless lives. Nor does it mean that desire goes away when children arrive. Rather it often means that frequency of sex gets impeded, and especially when kids are little.
What I'm flummoxed about in your statement, I suppose, is that I'm not sure I know any childless couples who's relationship is "all about sex." "Mutual joy" seems to me to be a whole lot bigger than just one's sex life. Further, I can't imagine a marriage that is all about sex or only about sex being without issue, but I've not known a marriage or partnership that has been all about sex.
The reader who wrote yesterday's email of the day will especially appreciate the above video – a teaser for the new sitcom "Up All Night", which debuted last night. Troy Patterson reviews. Another reader shifts gears:
I just read your essay "The He Hormone," and can certainly relate to a lot of what you say there. I have been living with AIDS and began TRT (Testosterone Replacement Therapy) back around 1996. This began during a normal quarterly checkup (with blood work) when I mentioned to my doctor that although everything in my life was going just fine, nothing seemed good or bad; that my life seemed like a "dial-tone", devoid of any ups or downs.
"Let's check your testosterone levels", he replied.
(By the way, the fact that people with HIV typically have depressed testosterone levels always struck me as evolutionarily counter-productive from the virus' point of view. You would think the virus would want to turn you into a testosterone loaded maniac in order to ensure its reproduction. But I digress.)
When I'm on schedule with my bimonthly shot, the horniness can be quite striking. I often explain it to friends by saying, "I can see a squirrel walk by and I pop a woody". Social interactions during this time are fundamentally different. I constantly find myself plotting, scheming, strategizing, and maneuvering to get whomever happens to present a blip on my sexual radar.
But it certainly feels "alive"; anything is better than the "dial-tone".
Another speculates:
In case anyone is missing the link here, you might want to note that you were literally injecting testosterone during the period when you were caught up in the fever dream of Iraq invasion. As you explained how your emotions were dominating your sense at the time, you were under the influence of a drug for which one of the major side effects is anxiety and panic.
The Dish 