Attraction Through the Ages

A ponder brought to you by “The Book Club”… and an irksome friend.

A truth universally acknowledged: You can’t help who you’re attracted to. 

And another: You can't control what your body likes. 

OK - given.

What I find interesting, however, is how those attractions and preferences tend to morph over time. As I’ve said about 9 million thousand times (or so), I’m not a particularly physical person. What hooks me is something internal, not an external appearance, so my criteria have always encompassed a fairly broad spectrum. My beaux have few common features, be it build, hair color, ethnicity, or age. Even so, I’ve always been intrigued by how that spectrum keeps pace with me as I move through life. 

Certainly, many of the qualities that catch my eye have remained the same - fixed points of attraction - but when it comes to the age of the bodies that house those qualities, well, the variations there have made for an amusing ponder over time. When I was in college, I liked guys who were about 10 years older; when I was in my thirties/forties, age was irrelevant to attraction… twenty-two years older to ten younger, if I liked you, I dated you. Now that sixty is so close I can feel its breath on my neck, the range is narrowing again. It's within about 6 years one way or the other - old coots and young whippersnappers need not apply. 

When I hit 65, I’ll get back to you with the latest parameters…

But when you were younger, did you ever imagine that your tastes would keep pace with you like that? I don’t think I did. I think I assumed that love was the thing that made loose flesh bearable to the touch. (Which, of course, is partially true - except it’s “a” thing, not “the” thing.) 

Truly, the realization that my preferences would change along with me was one of the grand discoveries of life. Which I suppose sounds hyperbolic but it really was genuinely encouraging. I am not someone who takes easily to doing things simply because they’re what you’re supposed to do, so the knowledge that “when it comes time to do this thing that currently disheartens me, I’ll likely feel very differently” took a lot of dread for the future away from me. (About many things actually but for the moment, let’s just stick to attraction.)

So I can sit in that movie theater, honestly (and happily!) drooling over a grizzled Andy Garcia and completely getting why Candice Bergen would yank balding Richard Dreyfuss into the back seat of her car - and barely registering the cute young guy. 

Yet, it doesn’t work that way for everyone - which is another intriguing ponder. 

I have a recently “re-singled” friend (“The Expat”) in his mid-60’s who has been keeping me up to speed on his search for a new companion. It’s not going all that smoothly for him and I finally could not hold my tongue any longer. “Perhaps you’d do better if you expand your search to include women over 20?”

“No… I’m not attracted to women over 30 and I’m looking for someone who’ll last my lifetime.”

(I am truly fond of this man… he’s extremely smart, very funny… but our entire 30+ years of friendship have found me continually about an inch away from smacking him into next week.)

It annoys the pants off of me - on behalf of women everywhere just on principle, but mostly because I want to think he’s better than this. My mind wants to argue that he should have grown out of this nonsense by now. (That’s shorthand for what could be a VERY long rant on my part.) He’s perpetuating an unpleasant stereotype and I hate it.

So we end up with me thinking he’s stunted and him figuring I’m just envious. And we are each both right and wrong. It's a point we'll never agree on because, maddeningly, how do you argue against, “This is what I find attractive”? 

No conclusions here, it’s too messy and complicated of a question for that. Just a thought packet that’s been taking up a lot of space in my head lately…

Designing For The Future

Need Ideas for the Weekend?

Go See This!

Yes, it’s a rom com but it’s sooo good!

(And very funny!)

Stop reading! Go!!

Headin' Into Summer With Spock

What can I say?

Sometimes, it’s all about the giggle.

Six Month Check-Up

I figured it was about time for this...

When I told Kraken that BG & I had gotten back together yet again, he gave me The Hairy Eyeball of Skepticism and asked, “So, what’s different this time?” 

A darned good question, to which I can only reply, “Nothing… yet everything.”

The problem had been that we weren’t moving toward the same goals - so first we stopped trying, then we stopped moving at all. We just plain gave up. But when a year goes by, the hurt dulls and fades, life resumes and goes along fine without the person, and yet you still ache with missing them every single day… well, goals can change. 

We’ve been taking it in baby steps, however. 

  Actually, at first we didn’t even intend to pick things up again. Rather, we met simply to get the air cleared. (Neither of us had closure from the way it ended and if nothing else, we wanted that.) During the course of conversation, however, it became clear that both of us were willing to consider trying again, as long as there were modifications and compromises. That led to days of discussions and negotiations over what we could adjust and what were firm goals. (And with nothing left to lose, these were some very frank conversations.)

  We each set aside certain prior expectations - and replaced them with new ones. It wasn’t a case of swapping apples for oranges, however. The year apart had given us time to think and refine, to pare each want and desire down to the pure kernel at the center. So instead of, “I expect X and Y” (“because that’s how I get Z”, not only unspoken but often actually unrecognized,) it becomes, “Z is the goal. How can we get there?” 

  We stepped back, not picking up where we left off but treating the relationship as though it were brand new. Strangely familiar perhaps…, but new. Park your baggage at the door - no old assumptions, no judgements based on past behaviors. Fresh starts begin now.   

  Basically, we took the time to rebuild a foundation. We even held off on sex for weeks. Not an easy trick, since we’d both been celibate for those 12+ months - but we managed it. (And, ok, it wasn’t a huge number of weeks… but that WAS an honest use of the plural!)

The new parameters seem to work - things have been proceeding very smoothly these past six months. (It’s been quite heartening, actually.) However, it’s also still an experiment In Progress. Not that I’m not fully committed to it - I am seriously hoping to still be laughing and screaming with this man for years to come - but I’m also more willing to walk away this time, if need be. So, Kraken - that’s one difference.

Another is that he’s less willing to let me walk. 

Or, perhaps more accurately, less willing to act in a way that will make me want to / less willing to act as though he assumes I won’t. However you want to phrase it, it's a change - and a good one.

So anyhow, that’s where things stand.

And this is my new mantra:

Life is good.

Gnomadic Spock

The perfect Trekkie garden decor!

(Altho’ by the time I get done with all the yard projects subsuming my free time at the moment, I’m gonna look like the guy on the right!)

Ebbs and Flows

This past week of the full moon has been spent fixing, or attempting to fix, broken things…

A lot of broken things.

Venerable pc desktops (*insert my opinion of pc's here*), a swarm of chromebooks (slightly in the lead here), a couple of MacBooks (piece of cake!), three different broken parts on two different doors (success all ‘round!), chain saw (partial victory - waiting for more parts), riding lawn mower (complete failure), fans (hello, dumpster!), downspouts (duct tape and a prayer), and small but annoying sporadic car interior noise (for which the jury is still out.)

I did my best to rock a Spock attitude, 

but despite my efforts, it still felt more like, "shoveling shit against the tide." 

I’m hoping the next spring tide will wash up a cabana boy (unbroken!), instead…