Call me crazy if you want, but after scientific calculations, I have decided to extend my Kampala boundaries and become 42 years â€” starting midnight tonight. Today is, therefore, the last day of the 41st year of my happening.
I started my life nine months before the 10th day of July in the year of our Lord 1967 at 1:30am East African Standard Time.
I, therefore, gratefully welcome gifts as long as they are NOT similar to the one Charla gave to her husband Brad Muller on his 40th birthday in 2006. It was a present of no ordinary kind.
This Charla was a naughty American woman. On the eve of her husbandâ€™s 40th birthday, July 2006, she gave him a promise of sex every day for the whole of the next year. Brad first tried to decline it with arguments about spontaneity, forgetting that a woman who has already removed her panties is very difficult to dissuade. He lost the debate and got sentenced to 365 days of sex! They sat down and wrote a constitution to govern the dos and donâ€™ts.
They ruled out most of those reasons you bring in your marriage to avoid sex (â€˜Iâ€™m tiredâ€™, â€˜my boss has annoyed meâ€™, â€˜I canâ€™t have moods when my Mao is threatened with arrest!â€™, â€˜There is football tonightâ€™, â€˜visitors will hearâ€™, â€˜I must watch Salvadorâ€™, etc). They even decided on what happens if the sex spread across midnight â€” would it be yesterdayâ€™s or tomorrowâ€™s?
For the next year, while we were busy talking peace with Kony in Juba, Charla and Brad were giving each other their daily bread. Charla documented their experiences in a book; 365 Nights: A Memoir Of Intimacy, which was published last year.
In the book, Charla declares their mission a success in spite of a few Garamba hitches here and there. Although they failed to have it everyday, the book claims a 92% success rate. That means they had 336 days of sex, an average of 28 days a month.
The book, which has been hailed in many fora as a trigger for married couples to examine their sex lives, or lack of it, has now been optioned by 20th Century Fox for a possible film adaptation.
So, I asked myself: â€œDoc, why not write about that on your birthday? After all, many pastors are getting away with worse things. Your wife may be tempted to think along the same lines! Would you handle?â€ At that time, the only problem I could see was the World Cup next June. I rarely want to interrupt a soccer tournament with sex.
But when I slept, I dreamt about myself looking rugged and exhausted from a 100 days of sex daily that I could not tell my angry boss about after being caught dosing at work. Of course daily sex is an exciting idea but â€¦ but â€¦ (how can I say this?) â€¦ not with the same person! â€” Sorry, I am not God, am I?
Contrary to popular belief, more sex is not necessarily better sex. You need to recharge at some point but, above all, the need for sexual fulfilment should be mutual not prescriptional. We are animals, not robots.
It shouldnâ€™t feel like you are deployed out there compulsorily battling dragons. And for me, make anything an obligatory act and part of me will begin to resist it.
In matters of intimacy, spontaneity is more important than planning.
It can only be sacrificed if the environment or the partner are not compliant because efforts must be deployed at maintaining frequent marriage consummation. The more it is done, the more it will spill over from the bedroom to intimacy in daily life.
What works, therefore, is mutual fulfilment not coercive timetables. As for me and my birthday, kindly donâ€™t be tempted to consider a daily prescription of sex as my gift. Unless, of course, you want to risk me fleeing the country.
As for the rest of you who were born on July 10, if you are married, would you spare some time tomorrow and discuss the Charla gift? Maybe you can edit the rules to get a working arrangement for intimacy. We need a conducive environment to get wiser with every year that passes.