First year report card

It's been too long since I braved another blog posting.  And I use the word "braved" because it was not so much a bit of writer's block that was afoot but a bumping up against the point at which I probably should shift to the realities of my life in the "single again" zone rather just  muse on the state of my on-line dating attempts.

In other words...it has become increasingly apparent that if I was going to keep this thing alive and interesting, I would probably need to discuss what has actually been going on in practice as opposed to mere theory.

A daunting prospect given that my daughter, spouse emeritus, various friends and family members and a number of women I dated this year or would like to date sometime in the future do read this blog. 

Which is when I came upon the notion of a report card.  After all, it is that season as far as elementary school goes and at this one year mark of my second act of singularity?  I just finished first grade.

So here goes....and to best honour the spirit of this thing, I will adopt the voice of Miss Hill, my first grade teacher way back when. 

She was an unclaimed treasure of indeterminate age who still occasionally haunts my dreams as the first voice of unfiltered and unyielding adult disapproval that I encountered as a kid.  I do not say this with any personal feelings of unfairness or ill will by the way...I suspect she had already judged life disappointing and was quite unbiased as to who or what she deemed yet another let down. 

In fact, I  think she may have literally needed to point out and correct the evidence we (and particularly me) provided as to the sorry state of the next generation and world in general, much in the way my young peers and I needed lunch, recess and an afternoon nap to perform as expected.  She clearly found purpose, solace and energy in conducting her adopted roles as arbiter of what was right and chief prosecutor of all that was wrong.  And six year olds provided plenty of both.

It was something of a perfect eco-system when you think about it.

But I digress....so I will hand this column off to her for comments and grading of my year of living in singularity.

Billy started this year happy and enthusiastic about the tasks and learning required of him in this first year of a new world of different expectations.

A happy demeanour and advanced ability to express himself found him making friends easily.

As the year progressed though, he lost focus since his social skills proved not enough to keep him on track as far as the work required of him.  

His mind wandered and he would often become bogged down by expending effort on things that had nothing to do with what was on the curriculum.  It became increasingly apparent that his desire for fun overshadowed the need to buckle down on the tasks at hand.  And rather than taking heed of my many reminders that  life was not all fun and games, he became all the more determined to follow his own agenda, something that appeared to frustrate him even more when things did not go his way.

As the year wound to a close, Billy seemed to realize that unless something changed, nothing would change.  And despite this late realization on his part, his first year can best be described as satisfactory given an effort that barely meets required standards.

Perhaps the summer will see Billy gather his wits about him and return with a more positive attitude towards the tasks ahead.  I would recommend particular attention to his diet and levels of both rest and exercise.  You will also want to pay particular attention to his choice of playmates as they are often wildly inappropriate and he is easily mislead towards mischief, although I sometimes wonder if he isn't actually the ringleader himself.

Final Grade C-
Promoted to next level with reservations.

ancient band reunions/returning to the dating world...surprisingly similar

I've always been more than a little music obsessed, either as a player myself or as a devotee of bands that were not exactly run of the mainstream and just as often as not, held in high disdain by a more discerning segment of my peers.

Which is not to say that my musical icons uniformly represented what would later be seen as evidence of a cutting edge sense of the soon to be credible.  Nope, I was just as likely to love stuff that didn't even need the passing of time to know that it was, well....crap.

Consider this.

I was an early adopter of both the New York and London sounds that would before too long be known as punk rock.  And prime among the bands I fell so hard for was the Sex Pistols.

But I also owned a lot of Kiss albums (and by a lot, I mean all of them).

Likewise, I may have been the only kid in early to mid 70's Mississauga who owned both New York Dolls albums.

But I also had more than a few Grand Funk LP's.

Now, what does any of this have to do with the resurrection of my single status after a 23 year absence?

Well, it has me thinking that this could go several ways, much like my musical taste.

And perhaps, the reunions of two of my favourite bands back in 1996 after long absences from the concert stage are the best example of how I mean that.

On the one hand there was the re-forming of the original lineup of Kiss.   The smoke and mirrors would have us believe that Peter, Paul, Ace and Gene had come together to give the fans what they wanted and to show all other pretenders to the throne how the "big boys do it" as lead huckster Gene put it.

So I bought a ticket and went solo, unable to convince any of my chums that this was going to be great....that somehow our 36 year old selves would be transported to a magic moment from our teen years when Kiss ruled the world, when they were the hottest band in the land and we were still full of the piss and vinegar of youth.

I was surrounded by other men of a certain age that evening in the SkyDome and we were indeed giddy with anticipation.  As the lights dimmed, we could see the shaded figures of our heroes take the stage behind the semi-translucent curtain and then we fairly burst with nostalgia infused adrenalin as the curtain gave way, the pyro was unleashed and the roar of Kiss past belched forth.

And it sucked.

The sound and playing were flabby, as were our objects of adoration.  They stood revealed as four fat, hairy old men milking it for all it was worth for every possible dollar going in front of some 45,000 devotees equally as out of sorts with their younger selves as the facsimiles on stage.

What had I been thinking? 

Which had me quite depressed as a Sex Pistols reunion date at the Molson Ampitheatre loomed.  Would it be as lame as the Kiss show had been?  The odds were not great as the Pistols were beyond upfront about their motivation behind the tour (dubbed Filthy Lucre).  It was about money plain and simple.  They had never really cashed in on their place in rock history and the time was right to correct that.

And perhaps more stark was the reality that the Pistols had never played that often live, partly a function of being largely banned for the most part from doing so in Britain during their heyday as well as the brevity of the band  as a going concern.  And the various bits and pieces of surviving live concert clips suffered from a lack of sound quality that did little to mask what was at best a thin version of the visceral power of their LP "Never Mind the Bollocks".

Expectations set low I set off for the concert feeling that anything beyond OK would be a win compared with the disappointment of the Kiss show.

This time though?  The show was magnificent.  The Pistols sounded amazing, their playing chops honed in the subsequent years to the point that they were more than up to the task of living up to the very high bar they had set with their landmark (and only) studio album.  There was a ferocity to their performance, even in Rotten's cry/boast that they were "fat, forty and back".

And we the audience celebrated this along with them.  The years fell away, our energy matching theirs for some 70 minutes or so before collectively spent, we all meandered home, feeling triumphant and well...justified in our love.

Which is where the "dating again" analogy comes into play.

What version of me is going to take the dating stage? 

The older, world weary pretender to a throne long lost and perhaps never really held.

Or the older, wiser version of my long, lost dating self reinvigorated by a kick at the can he never anticipated happening again.

A question that until further evidence unfolds I can only posit by quoting one of my other great musical loves,  the Who.

"Long live rock..be it dead or alive".

Conscious uncoupling? Beat you to it Gwyneth.

Yup...who knew the spouse emeritus and I were so ahead of the curve?

We thought we were just separating but according to Gwyneth Paltrow, we were actually engaged in the act of "consciously uncoupling".

It turns out that what we had thought was the fairly mundane act of assessing the state of our marriage, jumping the hoops of mediated counseling  and accepting and preparing for the act of going our separate ways was actually a "thing".

Which makes me wonder. 

Prior to Ms Paltrow's elevating the art of tossing in the towel to her list of life enhancing advice, recommendations and musings on her blog, goop.com, is it safe to assume that those who had come asunder before had '"unconsciously uncoupled"?

And who or what was to blame for having failed to come apart in a non-aware manner?

Perhaps starting as an unconscious coupling in the first place....or... maybe a subsequent unconscious coupling in absolutely the wrong place?

A failure to eat enough kale?

Luckily for us, our conscious coupling (previously known as getting married) involved one musician (me) and someone with a way with the written word (the spouse emeritus)...you know, just like Gwyneth and Chris,,,so at least we know it couldn't have been that. 

Might have been the lack of green stuff on my part....never trusted a foodstuff that didn't start life with a face.

It's a Swedish thing....at least it is now...according to me and by extension my co-practioner of the consciously uncoupling arts, Gwyneth.

You know, I could get used to this cutting edge lifestyle.

 

Not so much beaten...as thoroughly smoked.

"So", said the spouse emeritus as she waited for me to put a plate of pasta together for her, "I've been dating..how about you?"

This was the first time we had addressed the topic of dating since going our separate ways...not that it was a new one for us.  It was indeed a subject that came up from time to time during the last year we spent together when for all intent and purpose we were "living apart together".

Not in a particular hurry to make things more complicated than they already were, I'd opted for our not dating other people, at least not openly, until we were on our separate paths full stop.  The spouse emeritus was less dogmatic on the idea so it really was no surprise that she had dived into the dating pool shortly after going our own ways.

"Dating?", I said "Well, not really...been on a few coffee dates with women I met on-line but other than that, no".

"Well, I have...do you want to hear about it?"

"Not so much, unless you are into something serious, you know if this is someone you think might be around for awhile, someone you might introduce to our daughter that is".

"OK then, no names or anything..but I need to ask you something."

"Which is?"

"Apparently I come across as kind of bossy."

"Bossy?", I said.

"Yes..bossy..   I'm not that bossy am I"?

"You're actually quite bossy", I answered.

The spouse emeritus was a bit taken aback.  I could see that was not the answer she was looking for.

"The thing is", I said, "that's just you...it never really bothered me, I suppose I was used to it, and frankly anyone who really has a problem with that...isn't really a good fit for you."

"How is that?"

"Well, it's not like you're going to change much at this point, it's just part of you and you're pretty great, so don't sweat it....and whatever you do, don't compare how we put up with each others idiosyncrasies with how new people experience them.  We had 23 years to build up immunities."

"That's a good point..because you know...you have a lot"

"I know".

"No really...a lot"

"This is not news."

"I mean come to think of it..you're kind of a walking encyclopedia of unique behaviours",

Dinner finished pleasantly and having hit our 4-5 hours of tolerance for each other before said idiosyncrasies kicked in from both sides of the table, we said goodnight.

Now I had wondered how that first conversation would go when one or the other of us had moved past the world of 'us' into the fingleton dating pool and to be honest...it felt fine.  A huge part of our decision to split had been based on seeing twenty to thirty years ahead of us and both wanting a future that represented more than just playing out the side.  I found myself quite happy for the former Mrs and more than a little proud of her for bravely moving forward.

But there was something else that niggled.

I was comfortable with her hitting the dating scene before me.  It really felt no stranger than our daughter's first forays into that same world of exploring the mysterious world of romance.

Something was feeling strange though.....and then I saw it.

I was hit by the sudden realization that not only had the spouse emeritus begun dating before I did, but so had my Mom.

Mom had found herself in that boat, following my father's passing after a very long illness, when an old family friend (widowed some years before) rather determinedly and unexpectedly set his sights upon her.  And even more suprising to her, she was ready for companionship not that long after she had swore she had no interest in anything like that.

And I was very happy for her and comfortable with the turn her life had taken.

But the sudden notion that I was still content on the sidelines while both ex and my septuagenarian mater were out there well ahead of me having their second chapter moments?

That was a sobering thought.  And I have a feeling that something is going to have to change..maybe even my heretofore sacred idiosyncrasies.

This is about to get real.

Smells Like "Meme" Spirit

I've written before about some of the phrases that seem to come up again and again in on-line dating profiles and that there appeared to be a code attached to their meaning.  And while it is easy to generalize about whether certain words and phrases are worn almost as accessory what is it I am supposed to make of the near ubiquitious dating profile statement "spiritual but not religious"?

I ask this because it is an almost overwhelmingly universal answer on the profiles I read as an answer to the religion/faith question.

Now my sampling does not in any way represent a scientifically valid result.  And I  am clearly not a visitor to the growing number of dating sites for the religious, but in my experience the "spiritual but not religious" response greatly outstrips the number of those who identify themselves as a member of a religion (practicing or otherwise), agnostic/atheist or even the number of people who do not address the question at all.

Which makes me wonder.  Is the "spiritual but not religious" blanket answer an indicator of a cultural zeitgest or is there something  I am missing in the way a lot of people are purportedly living their lives?

I say this because while I have met numerous people who live with a profound sense of faith, I can't say I have met that many outside that group (and even within it) who struck me as particularly spiritual.  Nice?  Absolutely.  Generous?  Certainly.  Calm?  No doubt. Insightful, empathetic, balanced?  Sure.

But spiritual?

Not so much.

Which perhaps says more about my personal confusion about what the word actually means. And when in doubt I rely on that most reliable of cultural filters...the Beatles!

George Harrison started his Beatle life as the "quiet one" but by the time of Sgt Pepper he had evolved to being seen as the  "spiritual one".  Now when I think of George I think about krishna and gardening and sitars.  I also think though about acid trips, the material world and all things fab (girls, guitars and ganja).

And perhaps that provides a clue.  Maybe the spirituality people are citing now is malleable and includes all kinds of things..from the divinely connected to the most earthbound, profane or mundane in pleasure pastimes.  You know..as long as you are spiritual in it's pursuit.

So basically, if you are really into it?  Voila.  Spiritual!!  Which is why the phrase can cover pursuits as wildly divergent as bird watching and Burning Man.

So...my dedication to sourcing and sampling all Beatles related  minutiae?  Damn near saintly!

Somehow though I think we are all a bit confused by the devolution of finding a mate into something more like shopping than not.  And this confusion has us thinking "I'm actually deeper than this mere profile can convey" or "Hmm, I already spent a lot of time already describing what I want in a mate and by extension..life, maybe I better balance that with a declaration of my place in the scheme of things.  Essentially we are driven to add onto our lists, the idea that we think about loftier matters than fine dining, exotic travel and cottaging.

And since near universal participation in organized religion is very much a thing of the past in much of western society, it is up to those of us without a denominational home to announce the presence and importance of spirituality in our lives if not actually describe how we experience or nurture it.

But no matter, because in embracing the catch all phrase "spiritual but not religious" we put paid to that need and perhaps just as importantly deflect the attentions of those who prescribe to more traditional dogma.

You know it was all so much easier when I could safely just say I am agnostic or atheist (a difference I see as depending on how curmudgeonly I feel on any particular day).

Perhaps I will just say in future that I connect to my soul daily with an incantation of words that have come to mean so much to me over the years.  Now..how exactly do you spell "coo coo ca choo"?
 

Yours. Mine. Ours?

So here's the thing.

I love being a Dad and have done every step of the way from that first trip home together as a family with newborn in tow, to waving the kiddo off as she walked into her university residence sans parents.

If there is one thing the spouse emeritus and I can point to as a wholly, successful consequence of our having been together, it is indeed the wonderful young lady we brought into this world and the pleasure and pride she has provided us along the way.

That said, biologically speaking?   I can't see being a father to anyone but said daughter.

And how this will impact my future and mostly hypothetical dating life is yet to be determined, but it is something I think about.

Mostly because it is as much a qualifier in date-worthiness for me as whether someone sounds interesting or appears attractive.  And I am quite sure that it is the same on the other side of the gender divide for women still considering or actively desirous of having a child.

After all, when the spouse emeritus and I first met, I am convinced that a good deal of my suitability as a potential partner in her eyes was my nodding in agreement with her "I want to have a child in the next 18 months..how does that sound to you?" mission statement.

It was clearly a "do not pass go question" and I embraced that brave nod knowing full well that the path to fatherhood was officially underway.

But now?  I must admit to scanning down towards the "wants kids" yes/no question line in prospective dates' profiles almost as quickly as I pause at other basic descriptors.   And unless I see a "had kids, doesn't want more" or "does not want kids" choice in place, I do not invest any more thought to the "should I or shouldn't I" brave a message conundrum.

Aha, you say.  Silly old fart is yet another of those middle age men planning on dating younger.   I can assure you this is not the case.

But I understand the assumption. 

I had thought that the age skew of women I generally regarded as appropriately well seasoned in the dating sense would preclude the child question as coming up as an issue.  And yet, in my observation, a surprising number of yet to parent, well into their 40's potentials do list their child wanting status as definitely, probably or undecided.

To which I say...wow, they must already be well into the adoption process or have incredible health plans as fertility treatment goes.  And then I say...move along...not for you.

And yes I get that people date knowing that not all relationships will graduate to "serious" and the need to align intentions as go parenting desires.

But the idea of wasting someone's time whether they see themselves as a future parent soon or might later just doesn't seem fair.

Having hit the half century mark, I am all too aware that time speeds up as we age and that decisions and desires change.  And as having a child goes? Time left really does begin to matter.

Which I suppose is part of my opting out of the game as goes having another child.

Part of that decision is economic.  Getting my daughter through what looks to be a long spell in the halls of academia by contributing equally to that endeavour pretty much puts paid to the idea of being part of a new family.

Equally strong though is the sense of fatigue that picturing myself doing the kid years again conjures. Parenting was exhausting enough with a running start in my mid thirties so I will reserve my future pram pushing and diaper changing to that required when grandchildren come along.

Which does not mean, daughter of mine, that I am in any hurry to do same.

Rest assured though my love (should you be reading this and if you are..get back to your books!), I will be at your beck and call when the time comes.

the age thing..dating younger?

Back when the spouse emeritus and I had first come to the conclusion that our days together were drawing to a close, she said something along the lines of "It'll be easy for you, there are so many more single women these days..you'll be out there dating away before very long".

"And you know, it really isn't fair at all" she said.  "Your pool of available dates will be so much larger....You can easily date as young as 35.  "Women my age"?  "We have to start looking at guys up to 10 years older because of all the men who date younger".

Now, my initial reaction to this discussion was that I really didn't think I would be dating anytime soon and that the prospect of dating younger seemed ridiculous.  At least it did for me.

And by younger, let's set that parameter as thirty five to forty.  Below that seems a stretch, even if the adage that "half your age plus seven" is the lowest limit of one's accepted date-ability age range.  By that one I am apparently not in dirty old man territory as long as the women are at least 33.5 years old.

The other one I know says your age less fifteen years is fine, which puts me at a lowest limit of 38.  So let's split the difference and define "young" as my age goes as anywhere from 35 to 40, with 40 and up being more respectable and below 35 just plain wrong. 

That cleared up..here is why I was skeptical of the spouse emeritus' original assertion.

I work in a young industry and while I enjoy the energy and creativity of those younger than I (virtually everyone in my business), it is more than apparent that our cultural milestones involve an age divide that it is sometimes hard to bridge.

I notice this mostly as goes musical taste but it extends to just about everything.  Mention just about any event from one's relative youth and the most common rejoinder is "Wow...I was in public school when that happened".  Or the even worse "I wasn't even born then!".

And then there is the matter of appearing date-worthy to a younger skew.

Now my peers in years usually express amazement that i am indeed 53 ( a genetic thing as it certainly wasn't clean living that did that..my twenties can best be described as an experiment in enhanced living through chemistry).

But anyone under 40 generally just nods at my answer.

Attend a younger event and you will get a taste of this.  To those significantly less long in the tooth than ourselves (under 35),  we fifty-somethings appear every bit our age in comparison, and worse, become somewhat invisible.

So getting a younger women's attention?  A daunting challenge at best, let alone actually gathering up the gumption to arranging a date. And  I say this knowing I am reasonably well preserved, relatively stylish and if not ruggedly handsome, at least attractive to some.

As for the "gumption" thing..well..I am a bit shy at first and always have been.  In my youth I was a working musician which pretty much eliminated the need to be all that garrulous as far as meeting girls went.  I still play but have seen no evidence of that being a weapon in the arsenal of attraction at this point in my life...more's the pity.

By the way, the "attractive to some" statement is neither a knock on the spouse emeritus' taste in men or a boastful figment of my ego.  Can't have people thinking she just "settled".   I did marry "up" as go looks but I have seen bigger divides.  At least I think I have.  That may indeed be the ego talking. 

As for the truly important stuff?  Yes, she could have done better, but that is true of virtually all the paired off women I know in some way or another.  Thank god for the diversity of causality as to why women might find us men attractive.

By the way....I am suddenly cognizant that I am guilty of setting a lower limit of date age appropriateness but not an upper range.  By all logic having set a lower number some 18 years younger than my age, I should consider that absolutely fine for a woman as well.

Which would mean that i should be open to hearing from seventy-one year old women.

Hmmm..need to re-think those equations.

since the medium is the message, it is best to keep yours both rare and well done

if the recent onslaught of facebook movies are any indication, it appears that many of us fifty-somethings delved into social media in 2007.

which means that most of us have been practiced at the digital art of saying hello for some seven years now...and by "most of us", well....i mean me.

from facebook to linkedin, to the now, near barren forums of myspace and classmates, we learned that the "reach out and touch someone" approach to saying "hello, remember me" or "hey, let's be friends" was a pretty painless way to establish or re-establish a connection.

but this is my year of being a fingleton (newly single in a fifty-ish way), so move that same experience to a dating site?  suddenly a "hello" is replete with meaning that goes way beyond that of one delivered on facebook let's say.

because in this case, the medium is the message.

and that message is.."hey i'd like to date you".

which is the point after all.  but it is one that creates a dilemma of sorts when you come across someone you know on-line.  and that dilemma is that there is a bit of a thrill that happens when you recognize someone from your life here, someone you find attractive that is.

it feels like you already have lots in common...you know me, i know you and we both are on a dating site.

i mean really, what could go wrong with a simple hello?

now i've been on both sides of this equation and can honestly say that the women i knew who contacted me on a dating site were indeed just saying hello...usually to confirm that i was actually no longer with the spouse emeritus or to compare notes as goes the on-line dating thing.

i have been guilty though of sending off a hello to a woman or two that i knew from some time or place in my life.  and as much as i may have crafted my missive as a "hey...you're here too!, just wanted to say hi" kind of thing, if pressed i was probably (ok..definitely) testing the waters oh so passively with the real message of this medium, the aforementioned "hey, i'd like to date you".

and the result?

message read, message deleted, message unresponded to.

no confusion there.

some embarrassment though.

the lesson learned?

leave the past alone.

while i am not sure that approach is a universal golden rule as goes dating site n-etiquette, i personally will yield to resisting the urge to reach out to those i recognize in future.

which is not to say you should....i will just assume you are comparing notes.

breaking the code: why yoga is so much more than a four letter word

Male urban based "fingleton"s (50-ish and newly single) soon come across an interesting thing when perusing dating profiles. The on-line profiles of the urban based female contain myriad commonalities as far as past times and passions go.

And these commonalities are so prevalent that one might be tempted to think there are an awful lot of people out there living essentially the same life.

So what is going on here?

The answer?

Coding.

That very same phenomena that has web folk seeding on-line copy with keywords and phrases to improve their positioning in web searches appears to have seeped into the on-line dating world via osmosis but with with a  twist.
My guess is that these keywords have more to do with repelling inappropriate suitors than attracting a wider net of the aspiring.

At least that is my theory as to why "yoga" is the word i see most often when pouring over profiles.

Not that yoga is a bad thing...after all it says I am serious about my physical and spiritual well-being, that I am willing and committed to make time for detoxing my body and soul and that by extension....you should too.

I wonder though if this word delivers that message in the way we men of a certain age are meant to understand it.  And by "we", I mean me.

The thing is, that while many men I know (including myself) have tried yoga..most of us don't stick with it.  We're also not (in general) very pro-active on spiritual well-being.

We try yoga because our backs hurt and understand it to be a lower impact workout.  We are looking (mistakenly) for an easier way to cure what ails us.

We also enjoy rooms full of women in yoga gear.

As for the spiritual element?  Aside from the aforementioned "women in yoga gear" comment, the spiritual aspect of yoga's benefits escape many of us (and again by "us"...I mean mostly me).

Which is not to say that we don't feel something akin to spiritual well-being. It's just that we are generally made aware of a purpose to it all via a favourite sporting teams success, a guitar hero's amazing solo or an unexplainable series of green lights all the home during a commute.

The good news?

We are not immune to the appeal of what women may be trying to convey but we have our own set of keywords and code for the same.

What you might be trying to say via the word yoga, we might say by expressing a dedication to regular gym visits and time spent outdoors (even if those gym visits are not exactly regular and our idea of roughing it is not having wi-fi access).

I cannot say the same however about my brethren's reaction to the words "salsa dancing".

Or "exotic travel" for that matter.

Those just plain scare the shit out of us.

might i suggest a bucket for that list?

Hollywood has much to answer for.  At least it does when you listen to people with an ideological bone to pick.

Fundamentalists attack what they see as a glorification of sex and loose morals.  Anti-consumerism advocates decry the proliferation of product placement.  And given the thin skins of virtually everyone these days, you can be assured that someone is going to be distressed by any film of any type, particularly if it spawns some type of cultural phenomena.

So now it's my turn.

I would like to take issue with the producers of the morgan freeman/jack nicholson movie "the bucket list".

Why?  Because on top of all the considerations that make the 50-ish single man "dateable", apparently you can now add sharing a long list of suitable and compatible "dream-do's" to that already, daunting menu.

Courtesy of that damn movie. 

Now you would think that a film centred on two old farts traipsing around the world filling what time they have left with adventures that complete their lives would ultimately be seen as a "buddy" flick...a predominantly male kind of thing.

But no, its success was based on a more universal appeal as goes the idea of seeing the world and living life well beyond the edge of mundane.

Which is why the film found an audience among people of all ages and particularly, if on-line dating profiles are any indication, among women.  The term "bucket list" literally leaped into the vernacular courtesy of that impact.

And to not have one?

Well that would be the very definition of the shallow and unconsidered life.

Now I was aware while still married that the bucket list phenomena had garnered serious traction, but I was not much bothered by my own failure to walk around with an inspiring pail full of my own must do's.  In fact most of my male friends of a certain age were also relatively bereft of a full load of aspirational check offs.

Which is not to say that when asked I could not come up with a couple of things I would like to do or places I would like to see.  But given that Pete Townsend was unlikely to ask me to sub in on bass on the next who tour and that I had already met Alice Cooper, it was a pretty mundane list.

"Hmm", I would say to the spouse emeritus when asked, "I suppose I would like to spend a few days in Vegas with the guys, or maybe visit Switzerland again".

"You do Vegas every few years...and you grew up in Switzerland" the lovely emeritus would say, "Isn't there something bigger you'd like to do?  Something you haven't done before?

"Well, I'd like to play the Air Canada Centre with my band."

"No..something that might actually happen".

"Go for szechuan on spadina tonight?"

"I give up".

Looking back, my failure to embrace the notion of the bucket list was probably one of the last of the many nails in the coffin as went our future viability as a couple.  And while I take full responsibility for hammering in most of them, I blame hollywood for that one in particular.

And the bucket list continues to niggle as I peruse profiles in anticipation of entering the dating world.  For a man whose last serious thought about fanciful things I must do before I die included "being a beatle or an astronaut" this is daunting stuff.

But apparently absolutely necessary.

Hmmm....I wonder if mentioning that I am currently "exploring what to put in my bucket  list" will do for now?

A moving target: nailing one's on-line profile (version 23.0 and counting)

since jumping into the fray of okcupid, match and plenty of fish some six months ago i have revised, rewritten and then radically refashioned my profile intro numerous times.

i started off ever so carefully, explaining that i was very recently single after a long marriage, was unlikely to be a good fit for anyone looking for a long time partner, that i had traveled plenty enough thank you and that with a kid to get through university i was unlikely to be jetting off anywhere exotic anytime soon.

i also stated (diplomatically i thought in my then so naive mind) that i preferred thin/slim/athletic/fit women who lived in the city..downtown specifically and exclusively.

the result?

the sound of crickets for the most part.

deafening silence.

basically?

i blew it.

the few messages i sent went mostly unanswered.  the odd person would respond that i sounded angry or too lazy since i only wanted to date in my neighbourhood. most suggested that i was clearly not ready to date. none mentioned my honest approach as refreshing or admirable.

as a copywriter, i took these responses as i would objections from a client.  i had misunderstood the brief (at worst), my client had failed to see the innate power of an unfiltered pitch (at best) and that since the client is always right (even when wrong!) a rewrite was in order.

my intro went through several incarnations, each yielding slightly more positive reaction as i removed more of the limitations on my dating preferences.  finally i showed my profile to my ex and her sisters. 

my ex is a professional and wonderful writer.  as for my sisters in law?  they are veterans of on-line dating and have found what they sought; a relaxed, respectful companionship rather than full-time partners. an end result that i thought sounded just about right for me.

their feedback yielded the new/improved profile intro below (in italics)

Recently underwent the excruciating yet well meaning experience of having my ex-wife and her sisters vet my profile. Their conclusion?

"Lower your age, say that you love to travel and make it sound more like you are looking for a life-partner...you'll get more dates that way"

Opted not to take their counsel as went that advice but did edit out a sentence or two about the general physical types that attract me. "Those make you sound like a jerk" said they.

"Hmm...but what about all the profiles that mention tall men only etc, etc"

"That's pre-qualifying"

"But when a man does the same?"

"He's a jerk."

These being very smart women....the discussion stopped there, the point ceded and heeded.

well..what a difference that edit made.  the number of responses to the still paltry smattering of "hello's" i sent did increase.

the big change though was that the new version attracted a flood of messages from women who stumbled across my profile.

which would be a good thing except that they are almost to a person not even close to the set of parameters i excised from those earlier drafts as to what attracts me in a woman.

it's a conundrum...and one that raises a million uncomfortable considerations..mostly about my own self image and the growing suspicion that it may be a tad rose-coloured.

yipes.

the fingleton defined..male, 50+ and single (again).

february 12, 2014

it is somehow fitting that i am writing this blog on a rather ancient pc where my ability to capitalize appropriately is at best challenged.

perhaps i should be more exact here.  my pc's keyboard here at home is impaired to the point where eliminating capitalization altogether seems the way to go, in that it at least looks like a choice as opposed to a glaring lack of grammatical competency..

so basically, faced with a challenge based on age (the pc's), i opted for improvising rather than actually starting over with new equipment.

which i suppose is a fitting analogy for the whole single again post 50 scenario in general and dating in same condition specifically.

now,  in the interest of full disclosure, my progress into this brave new world after 23 years with the same woman (20 of which found us in a legally sanctioned state) is mostly hypothetical.

i have tread the waters of dating post 50 by maintaining profiles on several sites.

i've even been on a number of "coffee-dates" courtesy of messaging on said sites.   it's hard to describe these meetings as dates per se...they more resemble safe and easy to bail on transfers of basic information and validation of whether one's "product description" is as promised.

they are more than a bit like spies meeting at a pre-arranged drop spot for a document exchange...there's a tentativeness, a suspense, a plan for escape ready to be deployed...not exactly an environment given to the relaxed chats i had envisioned.

so..some seven months into this new state, one i define as being a "fingleton" (male and single again in one's 50's), i remain something of a babe in the woods.  strike that..i am a total babe in the woods.

which puts paid to a theory i had often heard pre-split.

that theory, spread mostly by groups of married men, held that there was a world of women out there waiting lustily for new members to be added to the small pool of age appropriate, available, single men.

there would be dates galore for any and all gainfully employed, remotely presentable men...the numbers alone guaranteed this as a legion of lonely post 40/50-ish women was swollen by a careerism that had postponed relationships or later in life divorces from schmucks not even remotely like us.

and this theory was unquestionable, having been verified by scores of guys who knew a guy that knew another guy who was single and out every night, punching way above his weight with gorgeous and insatiable women who found him inexplicably fascinating and irresistible.

it has proven to be a case of "if it sounds too good to be true...well, it is".

so...having accepted the reality that the "shooting fish in a barrel" scenario was a fiction of wishful thinking, i am ready to soldier on....and share my foray into the world of the "fingleton" as i go.

until next time