My #metoo moment

My #metoo moment

Because historical accusations of sexual impropriety are trending and it turns out even Elvis was a serial offender, its time I disclose one of the several occasions in which I was a victim of inappropriate sexual advances.
Yes its true.
There were many instances in my life in music where I was ‘approached’ (by women and men) in what at the time may have been a flirtatious overture but in today’s terminology, is no less than grossly offensive abuse.
This particular event, my first #metoo tale, happened some time in 1992. In a splendid Victorian manor house in the mid east of England when I attended the wedding of the lawyer/owner of my distribution company, at that time a good friend and an influential power in London’s music business.

My wedding gift for the occasion of thsi lovely marraiuge between tow msuic biz types was a collectible, in the sleeve 78 of Elvis’ ‘That’s alright mama‘. My friend collected old vinyl and had/has a world famous collection. So a nice gift I thought.

I was single at the time and attended this overnight wedding on my own. Being a music industry wedding, the 200+ guests, mostly music industry heavyweights, were entertained in a huge marquee with a sound stage and a big PA, by a variety of world class acts, that were signed to the distribution company.
One of the star turns that day was a leading Irish singer, at that time, at her absolute prime. I had never met her but knew of her international reputation and attractive record covers. Hers was the voice of an other-wordly maestro. With a beautiful face attached.
Being frank, I was a bit in awe of how good she really was. She had that power over me. Ending her short set with ‘Song for Ireland’ in a way that sent shivers down my spine. The best I had ever heard in that Irish style of emotional siren song.
I was stood to one side of the stage area watching, with a beer in hand. Dressed, uncharacteristically in a grey suit (Hugo Boss) with a white shirt (Armani, I remember because I bought the outfit for the occasion, out of respect for the host, who was a suit).At the time I weighed 65 kg. (Pretty thin and fit.) And had an abundance of hair.  I was mesmerized by that moment. Vulnerable as any one would be caught up in a superior artistic performance of Irish musical excellence. Her song ended, an emotional eulogy that left the audience drained and ecstatic.

The applause and praise was ringing loud as she turned to leave the stage walking straight past me. Whereupon. She stopped, looked at me. And without so much as a ‘by your leave‘. Kissed me.
Not a peck on the cheek kiss. A full blown, leave it to your imagination version of a deep and meaningful exchange of saliva. Lasting probably one minute, but that felt like one year on ecstasy island. An electric kiss. I was not expecting that.
Now. There will be those of you who share my outrage that a woman empowered in this way by her position would not recognize the abuse her actions represent. (On a younger man, who might, for all she knew, have been a Mormon. Or a recovering Christian.) Small wonder every day we are reading about people who have suffered similar indignities with groping and butt touching and, in one horrible disclosure, a pinch on the butt by a passing stock broker.
It is high time we named and shamed these people who mistake sexual flirting with gross abuse. And returned to biblical values. In fact. Add some Islam too.Cover women head to toe. (In black.) And lets debate whether to allow a single slit for the eyes, or a veiled opening, just enough so they don’t walk into trees. Remove that temptation and men wont be tempted to say ‘Wanna see my old chap‘?

 Then there may be those of you who would look back on my horrible experience in 1992 and be both politically incorrect and a bucker of the trending morality by saying.Fuck me. That really happened with her? You lucky bastard.”

For those of you who have never been victims of the sexual mores of a different time and place, feel free to express your outrage that a woman in Sarasotta said Scotty groped her bottom in his apartment in 1972. (Just do it somewhere else.)
I wouldn’t change any one of the several instances where people of celebrity status hit on me inappropriately. In fact. Quite the contrary. Say yes if it feels right. Say no if it does not. The only thing worse than being hit on inappropriately is not ever being hit on inappropriately.
But digging out historical complaints 25 years later because click bait wants tales from this genre is; Just dumb. Get over it. Stop wasting thinking time on thoughtlessness.Harvey has learned his lesson, or at least, will be spending years in jail learning it more than once. When he’s freed, (assuming he is still rich) some girl will be thrilled to say yes when he offers to open his bathrobe. Women will be lining up for that opportunity.  Rich old men and hungry young women. Its a marriage made in heaven.

And my point?
If its inappropriate sexual conduct that so offends you and you don’t start your reaction at the Pussy grabber in chief. You sir/madam. Are a numbnuts. The Orange Lard is a self confessed sexual abuser. Pussy Grabber. Rapist, with dozens of charges filed against him by abused women.
Are they all lying?

 Ends
 
So then, perhaps undervaluing my ironic intention……….. My lovely therapist friend Lori asked me “How did that make you feel.
How did that really make me feel? Irony to one side.
At the time I thought. That is my self esteem raised several notches. To be found irresistibly attractive by such a beautiful woman who couldn’t help herself without ‘getting a piece of the Brel’ left me ‘dazed and confused for so long its not true.’
I never saw her again but I never forgot that moment. And its legacy was positive. I still think of her to this day. As one of many great musicians I had the great pleasure of meeting. Our lives intersected for one brief moment and it was a positive.
My conclusion is.
We should not overthink what constitutes sexual impropriety in the conduct of others. My story is between me and her. I am sure she was in no way abusing her position as being ‘desirable’ to any man between the age of 18 and 80. She was living in the moment. And most instances of sexual attractions happen in that same way. Spontaneous in the moment decisions. That is fine. When it is pre-meditated. When one can say ‘I like to grab pussy without any foreplay or consent’ then I say that is a different thing.
That is rape. There is a forethought to it. Not a spontaneous impulsive  flirtatiousness, misinterpreted or not.
My point in all of this is. So much interest in Harveys dick – when Hollywood casting couch is behind just about every movie ever made – down to Louis CK having to lose his career because he consensually partook in a safe sex option that did not arrogantly presume his celebrity status was the only reason for agreement. Down to a whole spree of small change that happened 30 years ago for a bunch of people from when times were very different. Sexual mores are defined by the age we live in.
The age we live in has elected a man (Not really a man, an Orange Turd, but still) based on his own word as a serial sex offender.
He has repeatedly reassured us that he loves to Grab da Pussy without consent. He ‘Moves in on them like a bitch.” So I find anyone who moans about sexual impropriety from Harvey to Kevin Spacey,  a hypocrite if they do not start every single expression of their outrage with the Pussy Grabber in chief.You can’t let that one stand and still want to jail other pussy grabbers for lesser rape without me thinking you are a hypocrite and a shmohawk.

ends 1,000 words

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