Can You Talk to Your Mom About Vegas "Cock Ranches"?

I don’t want to get too heavy on you, so I’ll jump in at “cock ranch.”

I was in the middle of listening to Mom and Dad recount their travels in the American Southwest--Hoover Dam! Grand Canyon! A mountain top near Taos!--when they mentioned their forthcoming stay in Vegas.

As predicted, the Diana Ross show is on their "To Do" list...but we both know there's a lot of trouble they could find.

Though I happen to like trouble, it's not their m.o. So I did what any responsible, caring, farm-raised daughter would do: I warned my mom about cock ranches.

Me: "Mom, just know that if anyone asks you to go to a cock ranch, they're not talking about chickens."

Mom: "They aren't?" (bewildered)

Me: "No, Mom."

Mom: "Well, what are they talking about?"

[Silence...from my dad, my sister, and me on this group call. Then I went for it.]

Me: "Penises, Mom."

Mom: "Noooooo. Really?"

Me: "Yes."

Mom: "I can't believe it."

Me: "Yep. I was offered a ride to one from a cabby when I was there for a bachelorette party back in 2003. I didn't go." [felt important to clear up with my parents]

[Change of subject...]

You might be thinking, "You really said that? You're not supposed to talk about such things with your parents."

My "cock ranch" comment was merely, uh, priming the pump for all manner of things they'd see in their first visit to Vegas. (Make your “that’s what he said” joke here.) Frankly, they should thank me.

What's the moral of this short story?

Screw supposed to. There’s so much "supposed to" we can ditch by the time we reach midlife.

How you’re supposed to feel about looming dissatisfaction in your relationship...

Whom you’re supposed to network with for professional advancement...
What you’re supposed to say when hearing your friend's kid got into the "gifted and talented" program...

Supposed to isn’t a function of what you can do, but of what people normally do or what’s already been done. Potentially boring when you think about it.

You're not supposed to (inadvertently) bike down the perfectly groomed driveway of the Slovenian President's summer home in Lake Bled, just before his arrival.

You're not supposed to set off alarms at the Ljubljana castle during a high-profile event and then draw all eyes on you, including those of Russia's Prime Minister Medvedev, with whom you exchange flirtatious grins.

You're not supposed to steal a prescription pad from a pharmacy for a bachelorette party ruse. You're definitely not supposed to disclose this would-be felony to your community. #circleoftrust

So here we are. With a very un-supposed-to blog post.

One thing you could do if you like my blog posts? Share them with your friends who might appreciate a weekly dose of irreverent takes on wellbeing for middlescence.