Frightening the horses

I am listening to the posthumous reading of film director Derek Jarman's autobiography on the radio this week. Along with plenty of other things, it has made me wonder if straight people are as obsessed with their sexuality as gays seem to be. They never seem to shut up about it, despite the usual protests about it not defining them over and above whatever else makes up their personality. I mean, we don't say 'Derek Jarman, the gay film director' do we? Maybe we do.

At one point he describes going onto 'the heath' for a bit of after-dark fun with a load of other - usually strange - men and says how he has become familiar with and affectionate toward all the ancient beech trees and other natural features which line the route. Oh well, I suppose - like owning a dog - it got him out of the house.

The other day, a woman reminded me of the old and untested 'fact' that men think about sex every 7 seconds. I think this would be true if one was out in the countryside alone on a cold winter day, but here in town, surrounded by throngs of people walking in every direction, I reckon it is 7 times a second.

I try not to let this rather sad and pathetic condition define me as a person, but it is hard, even at my age. Most of the time I try to stop it getting me arrested. Tom Stephenson, the heterosexual sculptor.