Someone Has To Bloom

 

I was leaving a restaurant after lunch, by myself of course, and noticed a flower that had sprouted in the cement jungle, along the edge of a curb. My initial thought was that flower is like me; flourishing alone in a harsh and lonely environment.

The world is most certainly harsh. Everyone wants something from you, and most often what they want is for you to go away and leave them alone. Not that they want to be alone. On the contrary, most people can’t accept being alone; they are just picky about with whom they are not alone. I am the exact same way. Am I not people? The trick is to find people with whom you can get along, and them with you; and how much you are willing to settle in order to not be alone. That is a difference between people: how much they will tolerate so as to not be alone. I am not much for settling.

That was one thought, anyway.

Another thought: you look at that flower squeezing a life outta that cement and think about how hard it must be. Life is hard, right? What a struggle it must have been for that flower. It is inspirational to see that flower flourishing. A testament to dedication and perseverance. Why, if that flower can make it against all odds then why can’t I achieve great things?!

Right. Next thought.

That flower didn’t do a goddamn thing. Or precisely, that flower is not doing anything more than any other flower. It is simply being itself. In fact, growing where it is growing is just as easy as growing anywhere else.

We humans like to confuse odds with effort. When someone beats the odds then we say it was due to effort, when it was really just luck. Something had to grow there. This flower grew there. This flower has achieved something great for being itself; for being the benefit of circumstance. If not this flower then it would have been another flower, and looked the same to us, regardless of its actual struggle, or lack thereof.

Celebrities. Famous people. So called high achievers. They are just like this flower. They are nothing special. They were being themselves when circumstances elevated them. If not them, then someone else. It is not them but everyone else who makes them what they are.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nice Hat Hair

From several different female sources I have heard talk about women and their multiple personalities. Not that they have dissociative identity disorder, but they just have different modes; one woman referred to each has being different filters. I have had relationships with women so I think I know a little something about these different personalities. I call them hats. Just think of a hat as a filter, if that helps.

We all have different hats. Since we are talking about women then let’s talk about their hats. Depending on where you first meet a woman, and under what conditions, you may only experience one hat, and the order may vary. This is by no means a complete list of hats.

Social Hat: Generally superficial and topical, polite and friendly. A woman is likely to treat you cordially even if she would rather stab you in the eye.

 

Work Hat: This isn’t so much an attitude as it focusing on work tasks.

Friend Hat: This is mostly attitude; supportive, open, and relaxed.

Family Hat: Geared for handling drama and unlikable family members because let’s face it, most of us come from screwed up families.

Girlfriend Hat: A specialized friend hat for relationships.

Lover Hat: Actually interested in sex.

Wife Hat: Houses the rules and regulations of marriage.

Mom Hat: It’s all about the kids.

Homemaker Hat: A work hat for home.

Woman have a difficult time changing hats. Most cannot transition quickly. What happens is women put one hat on top of the other with one caveat: she cannot where the Girlfriend or Lover Hats with any of the other hats. A woman can arrive home from work still wearing her Work Hat, then she puts Mom Hat and Homemaker Hat on top; all three at the same time. This is the famed ability of women to multi-task.

If you are in a relationship with this woman and later that night you would like her to wear her Lover Hat, then you are in trouble. She will never put Lover Hat on top of the others. You have to get her to remove whatever hats she is wearing and then get her to put on the Lover Hat. This is where most men fail. They are working to get the Lover Hat in place before removing whatever hats are in the way and the whole seduction falls flat.

Lucky is the man who finds a woman with the ability to quickly change hats.

The major difference with men is a man generally wears just one hat at time, and can usually change hats quickly. What a woman is looking for is a man with a wide variety of hats (who can add more hats with ease) and not just the standard Work Hat, Not Work Hat, Entertainment Hat, and Sex Hat.

 

 

 

Virgin Moments

There are times when I first watch a movie that I have a very strong emotional reaction to a scene. Not just an emotional reaction, which I have all the time. Not just a strong emotional reaction, which occur with some frequency. A very strong emotional reaction. I am always disappointed during subsequent viewings when I don’t get close to what I previously experienced. Two movies immediately comes to mind: Wings of Desire and The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

Spoilers below, dontcha know. If you have not seen Wings of Desire or The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou then please do. I’ll wait …

Wings of Desire is about angels who roam about the world listening in on the thoughts (hearts?) of the living. Their senses are limited. They see in black and white, cannot smell, everything is muted. What they have is the thoughts of those who are near. Imagine if you knew someone from their thoughts and inner emotions, as opposed to what is filtered for external consumption? In Wings of Desire an angel falls in love with one of the living. The angel discovers he can crossover into the mortal world, and he chooses to do so in order to experience life with his love.

The scene in question is when the angel first crosses over. We have seen Berlin from his perspective: black, white, gray, muted. After he crosses over the world comes alive. He walks down a street taking it all in. The noise. The color. All of the sensations. He is overjoyed with the sensory overload. Upon first viewing (in a theater) I was right there with him. Like I was actually looking at the world for the first time, and not just seeing it fuzzily pass in my peripheral vision. I had a wonderful feeling of delight and curiosity.

On the second viewing I wanted to feel that again. I did not. I was also viewing with someone else, her first time to see it. She didn’t much like the movie, and of course had no similar feeling towards that scene.

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou concerns an ocean exploration group searching for the previously unknown “jaguar shark” that killed one of their crewmates, Steve’s friend and mentor. Steve Zissou is their leader and while most of the story is his, there is an eclectic group of characters involved. The movie is about the choices we make and the consequences we experience, including the effects on the people in our lives. Steve Zissou’s search for the shark becomes a quest for the talisman of his self-actualization, and the acceptance of loss and the perseverance of kinship.

The scene in question is when Steve Zissou and virtually all the other characters cram into a submersible to descend upon the jaguar shark. They are all with him;  with all of his personal and emotional baggage in tow. Will they act as ballast and sink him to the bottom? Or will they be the buoyancy that redeems him? It is a great moment. I found myself envious and jealous that his friends have joined him and support him on this journey; on his life’s journey. He is not alone.

The Life Aquatic stands up much better than Wings of Desire. In fact, I own The Life Aquatic and have watched it in many times. As much as I enjoy it, that one scene has never been as moving as the during the first viewing.

In each instance my first viewings were when I attended a movie theater alone. Just me, a small audience, the dark, and the story. I seemingly cannot relive those virgins moments of movie watching. I simply await the moment when it happens again with a new movie.

 

 

 

Older Women My Own Age

On a recent visit to the dentist we talked about dating. Well, he talked about dating. I couldn’t talk because his hands were in my mouth. Which I suppose I was enduring for the prospect of dating, or more likely just to have healthy teeth, because we all know I have zero dating prospects. My dentist is a few years younger than me, and he looks even younger. We are both divorced, so I guess that added to the bonding element (ha!). He spoke of his disappointment in his aging dating pool, saying, “I don’t want to date my mother.” How many women can hear this statement and understand his point (not that you have to like it)? I understood immediately and I think most men would, too. “I don’t want to date my mother.”

How many 25 year old women find 50 year old men attractive? I would say many do. Just think of some 50 year old (or even older) male celebrities. Do these men look young? Typically they do not. They are simply older, handsome men. And many younger women find them attractive. How many 25 year old men find 50 year old women attractive? Not very many. Young men consider older women attractive when the women look younger. Women find handsome men of any age attractive. Men find women who look young to be more attractive.

Move ahead 25 years. What we find attractive is unlikely to have changed. 50 year old women are still attracted to handsome men of any age. 50 year old men are still attracted to women you look young.

Back to not dating my mother. When a man creeps into his late 40’s he begins to notice his dating pool – women near his age – is beginning to remind him of his mom. That is, what his mom looked like to him when he was in his early 20’s. I am not talking MILF’s here.

I will be 48 in a few months and I don’t want to date my mother. I don’t find many 50 year old women attractive; not unless they look 40. Although I am attempting a paradigm shift. I am trying to look at older women (i.e. women my own age) and see them with different eyes. To quote Pulp Fiction, “ I am trying real hard, Ringo.” Maybe I won’t have to wait until I am 60 to find 50 year old women attractive.

Movie (mystic river) and Tangent

There are some spoilers below. Kinda. You should watch Mystic River and then return!

I re-watched Mystic River. I have seen it only once before, in the theater during its original release. I would have voted it best picture that year. I recall it had a powerful ending, but I did not derive any conclusions at that time. I have now.

You might think the central theme of Mystic River is what it means to be a man. A manly man. An alpha male. Certainly covered, but not the main theme, and what it says about becoming a man is not what you might think. The movie implies an event in your childhood can derail your train ride to being a man. In a sense, every boy is born a future alpha male. Getting there as an adult is just a product of chance. Events from your childhood can damage you; take away your mojo. Whether or not you make it to alpha male is a product of events beyond your control. Essentially random.

The central theme of Mystic River is family loyalty, completely revealed during the final scene. The story involves three families. One family is destroyed because the wife was not loyal to her husband, thus causing his death. She would say she was doing the right thing. Although she should have gone to the police with her story, and not the alpha male married to her cousin. If she would have stood by her husband just one more day then he would still be alive (albeit with other problems). Of the remaining two families  one is together because of the husband’s loyalty to and patience with his estranged wife, and the other because of the wife’s and husband’s devotion to each other. Right or wrong. Good or bad. You stand by your family. 

Now for a tangent (bait and switch?) …

There apparently is some study. You know, we asked several hundred people this or that so we can get a news headline. The results indicate that circumstances under which you lose your virginity can impact your attitude toward sex. In the simplest terms if when you lost your virginity, including how you were treated post-cherry popping, you found it to be a generally comfortable and satisfying experience then you are likely to have a more open and accepting approach to sex. And vice versa.

And what of the alpha male? No doubt even when losing one’s virginity an alpha male is gonna be all alpha-y and what not. If his partner responds well to his alpha-ness then he is good to go. He might become the classic pin-her-to-the-wall-and-pull-her-hair kinda lover so many 50 Shades wannabes are interested in. (Although, me thinks the 50 Shades wannabes are really interested in a late-20’s handsome billionaire.)

What if his partner does not respond well? If he is an alpha male to the core then he doesn’t care about his partner’s response; his virginity losing experience will not keep him from being god’s gift to women. If he is borderline alpha male then said event could knock from the manly man path, turning him into a sensitive metrosexual man who treats women with respect (i.e. a loser).

So. Bottom line. Go out and get some. Unless you respect women. Then go out and come home alone.

 

 

 

Begin Fantasy Novel

As Patch the wizard guided the plow behind the horse he thought of all the spells he knew and didn’t know that would allow him to plow this field in less time and without breaking a sweat. This was a common past time for Patch; conjuring spells in his mind that he never actually conjures. He had given up that lifestyle years prior. It was just too much work, requiring too much diligence, and it was very, very dangerous. Once a wizard became known, once a wizard had a reputation, then all manner of folk came out the woodwork seeking out that wizard. Some wanted help. Some wanted to hurt. Some wanted to prove themselves in a dual.

Patch wasn’t even his current name. It wasn’t his wizard name either. His mother called him Patch, and he was called Patch while growing up. He considered it his one true name. A name like Patch would generate little awe in the world of magic. In fact, it would be a detriment. It sounded more like the name of pet. Besides, all wizards changed their names when they embraced their calling. The more syllables the better. Although Patch didn’t see much sense in more than three syllables; four or more syllables turned a name into a chore. Rastabelleon. Marticusassling. The ever powerful Sharagatamlasog. Gartalon he had named himself. The Wizard Gartalon. It sounded silly to him now. All wizard names sound silly to him now, but not in his youth. Gartalon held no special meaning; he had liked the sound of it. And since it had no real meaning it took on a meaning of its own based on the exploits of The Wizard Gartalon.

It had been 14 years since Patch last resided under the name Gartalon. Wizards mature young and typically die young. Sharagatamlasog had died particularly young. Patch had retired young, and taken up a new name. A name to hide beneath. Jask. He was known as Farmer Jask. He also changed his appearance, which were quite easily the most painful spells he had ever endured, far more painful than attacking spells from other wizards. 

The field finally plowed Patch stabled his horse, put the barn in order, and washed up for supper.

 

 

 

Die Alone

Here is why I will die alone.

I have not been in a relationship for 12 years. That is right. No girlfriend during that time. Haven’t been on more than 5 dates with the same woman. Nothing. There are several reasons why this is so and why it is unlikely to change.

I don’t need a relationship. There is a difference between want and need, and I don’t need a relationship. As a consequence I don’t force it. I am not aggressively looking for a relationship. I date less often and I don’t go out with someone just because I can.

Inertia. I am used to being alone. Some people go from one relationship to the next; in a sense they never stop moving and it is hard for them to stop. I have stopped and now it will be hard for me to get moving. Being in a relationship has to be more satisfying than being alone. We all make sacrifices in order to be in a relationship, and I have yet to find the motivation to make those sacrifices. Basically, women with whom I could have had a relationship have not been worth the trouble.

I can entertain myself (related to above). I can always find something to do around the house to fill my time. I am not afraid to do activities by myself. I have no problem dining alone, or going to the movies alone, etc. Sure, there are many activities I can’t, or wouldn’t, do alone. But I am not pining to do those things, and I certainly won’t get together with anyone just so I can do those things.

Time is not on my side. I am 47 years old. Generally, we all grow less attractive as we age. I find myself looking at women in my age group and thinking, “frumpy moms.” And I am not getting any younger, either. Sure, there are exceptions but exceptions are usually interested in two things: other exceptions or younger. You might think aging would give me a sense of urgency, or increase my concern about being old and alone. Nope.

I used to say I never expected to get remarried; not that I excluded the possibility, it just wasn’t on my to-do list. I guess now you could say I never expect to be in a relationship, it seems to not be on my to-do list.

See ya in the graveyard.