Monday, May 18, 2009


I think for the second time since I started writing here, I have withdrawn one of my writings. Some of you had the opportunity to read, "No More Mister Nice Guy." A comment I received from one friend on the phone was, "I thought you had finally gone off the deep end." Another friend said, "You didn't actually write that, did you?" The piece was supposed to be about my disgust with the whole "dating game" and the latest psychobabble from people who rip on so-called nice guys. It was satirical in nature, but after reading it again, I realized it went beyond satire, and would very likely be misinterpreted by someone.

For those who did read it: I say again, it was not meant to reflect my feelings, it was meant to take the anti-nice-guy sentiment to its logical next step. I couldn't live with myself if I actually felt those things.

What isn't withdrawn is my frustration and disappointment with what romance seems to have become. Reading what both men and women wrote about their idea of attraction and what they were looking for in a mate was deflating. Imagine someone telling you that if you continue to be yourself that the most attractive you'll ever be to someone else is to be their friend. I don't mean to devalue the meaning of friend, but let's face it, most of us hope to find a life-long relationship with a single person we are attracted to in a deeper way (if that hasn't already happened). So what I take away from the words I've been reading lately about what fosters attraction is that this will never happen for someone else with me. That's heavy stuff. What's equally disappointing is that I spoke with several single women friends recently who lamented about how all the guys in their 40s were seeking the gal with the "perfect body" that they felt they could never achieve. While I admit that appearance is part of my attraction to someone, my idea of attractive takes many different factors into account, and none of those include the "skinny little twenty-somethings" that my friends were saying all the guys in their 40s are looking for. What happened to the things that really count, like honesty, dependability, sense of humor, complementary interests, and ability to relate to each other on a more intimate level (not just sexually-speaking, but intellectually-speaking as well)?

This isn't as witty as the previous piece I wrote, but I think it expresses the same level of frustration.

I leave with a quote from an episode of The Outer Limits (the newer series) called "The Refuge." It is from the beginning and end of the episode:
A safe place, warm and quiet, a place to rest and recover. When all is said and done, isn't that what we all want? A safe place in someone's home ... or in someone's heart.


A poet once wrote, "In dreams begins responsibility." So too, perhaps, with love. Without dreams, without the hope of a better life, a brighter future, it is difficult for love to fluorish. And without love, there are no dreams.

A postscript: After typing the above quote that I actually copied down back in February, 1997, I googled a part of it, and discovered a reference to this episode in Wikipedia.

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