Will You Marry me? -The Fear/Lust Connection and why Dudley Do-Right has Better Odds With the Ladies.
Last spring I told my husband I wanted a divorce so I could marry Reo Stevens, if Reo would have me. Granted I said this after my husband sat on a picnic table at “Moke’s”, on the North Shore of Oahu, with a peanut gallery that included Filix Pivec (please go to his site, Jeff Pfeffer’s photos are worth the visit) and Top Hat and watched as I got drilled. You see, I got a little big for my britches and lined myself up on a large set wave, took the drop and purled. What happened next could be best described as a junk show with a joker (me) in its center.
Out of nowhere comes the cutest thing to plant his feet on a surfboard and grip a kite bar, Reo Stevens. Reo rescued my hind end from a serious reef rash (and maybe death) by rounding up my board, freeing my bridle line from the wingtip, untangling me from my lines and calmly explaining to me how to fly my kite wrong-side out, it was lust at first fright.
In a college psychology class I read about a study that a psychologist name Arthur Aron conducted. Arthur placed a beautiful woman at the end of a treacherous bridge spanning a very deep gorge. The woman gave her number to two different groups of men after having a short conversation with them, the first group didn’t cross the bridge and the second group had crossed the bridge. Here is where things got interesting, three times as many men who crossed the bridge called the beautiful woman back. The scientists scratched their heads and asked themselves, “Why did this happen?”
As it turns out the hormonal fear cocktail our bodies produce is pretty darn similar to the lusty one. So those bridge crossers rationalized that their shortness of breath, the racing heart rate, the sweaty palms and the upset stomach was lust for the woman, being scared silly had nothing to do with it (typical man).
This is great, I can’t be held responsible for wanting to marry Reo. Guys like Reo are great and a reason why I have come to lust kiting. Besides occasionally scaring myself I have never seen a nicer group of people in my life. Could you imagine a pro surfer rescuing some middle-aged haolie (freaking white lady) from getting drilled at Pipeline? No, neither can I. Kiter guys are nice, they are darn cute and it seems very charitable, all great reasons why more women should get into the sport. Just think about it, if you ask enough kiters to marry you, you may find the man of your dreams, or a least a decent backup plan.