Tag Archives: women

Online Dating… Hmmm


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The Dating Game from the 70’s.

Gut wrenching words: online dating.

There.  I wrote the words.  After all, this is WordPress.

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It’s blasphemy.

Marge and Carol from the Greatest Generation would be so dismayed that I would be searching online for a gal.  Marge met Mr. Johnson at a USO dance in WWII.  Carol met Old Man Jack at his mom’s house in Eagle Rock during one of his two furloughs from warring on those “stinkin’ islands”.  The commonality?  They met face-to-face and it wasn’t at a bar.  And it wasn’t at 2:30 AM before they were to ship out to war.  (Clicking on the highlighted links will take you to one of their stories.)

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Online dating began for me last month…I mean, online searching.  Duh.

Dating comes later – if at all.

Unbelievable – an old fart like me is using the internet to “shop” for a lady.  I’m now a (nearly) 60 year old rookie up against lady pros who reportedly have been picking and choosing “online” for their PERFECT man…for the last three years some of them write.  Gee, think of the tricks they must have up their sleeves against old geezers like us.

Frightening…especially since they have the upper hand.  A royal flush, ace high.  Why is it that the woman always has the right to pick and choose and not the man?

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The thought of online dating really repulsed me; it still does.  A last resort for social misfits unsuitable for mainstream society, I thought.  I also envisioned it as a “meat market” of sorts.  You know, pick out the best side of beef by looking at your screen then bid on it.  The highest bid wins and it is just that in substance.

Well, I haven’t learned enough during my years on this planet so I was ignorant enough to have tried it out…mostly because I knew I would likely end up in a “Why did I do that?” moment if you found your “soul mate” at a bar half-drunk out of your wits.  That would also include her, too.  The other reason was that I don’t like to mix with large crowds for one reason or another.  So where would I meet my Disney princess of dreams, I thought?

Ergo, online dating.  Old Man Jack and Mr. Johnson must be shaking their heads at me from above.

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A Marine amputee who has become a heart throb amongst women.
A Marine amputee who has become a heart throb amongst women.

Well, this is what I’ve found out so far… and it’s my view only:

  1. Because of “PC”, women do have the upper hand.  Delete or reply.  One sweetheart of a gal told me she gets over a hundred emails a day from interested men.  Over a HUNDRED.
  2. Nearly all of the women say on their “profile” that LOOKS are certainly “a plus” BUT they are “truly” looking for HONEST and loyal men…not players.  However, nearly all of the ladies post photos of themselves taken years earlier or they are blurred.  Many also understate their age – a few by ten years! Honesty starts with oneself, ladies.  Practice what you are looking for.  🙂
  3. Nearly all of the women – even little 5’1” Asian women – seek Caucasian men a bazillion feet tall and who look like this famous wounded Marine amputee and poster boy (above).  Me?  I’m but 5’7”.  (Kinda like the actor who said, “Look! Zee plane!  Zee plane!”)
  4. Nearly all of the more “attractive” women expect to be taken to the Maldives, Paris, Sedona, sailing, a winter ski vacation in the Swiss Alps…on a regular basis.  Well, you get the message.  With me, they’ll be lucky to be taken to Chuck-e-Cheese.
  5. Some women state in their profile their ideal man must earn over $150,000.
  6. One story that was told to me was that one attractive woman told a man at their first meeting that she wants $3,000 month (starting now), a luxury car, and an $18,000 wedding ring for the opportunity to “date” her.  You get the message on this one, too.
  7. Nearly all of the women are of Christian/Catholic faith.  I’m not.  That’s understandable.
  8. Nearly all of the women are divorced as well but their kids are now adults.  I can’t blame any of them they don’t wish to live with a man with two teens even if get A’s and B’s… Well, most of the time.  They’ve had their share of stress already.
Essence of online dating.  I chose this picture as the corgi is a spittin' image of my daughter's corgi.
Essence of online dating. I chose this picture as the corgi is a spittin’ image of my daughter’s corgi.

In essence, online dating isn’t working for me.  Perhaps I’m more towards the Walmartian level than I choose to believe or many ladies are not including “Asian” in their search criteria.  Tripped up at the starting gate even before the “race” started… Yes, that’s supposed to be a pun.

I even added a couple of links to some of my short stories here on WordPress.  Perhaps six ladies actually went so far as to click on the links.

Old Man Jack and Mr. Johnson were right in shaking their heads from above.

Oh.  Forgot.  If I did get an email from an “interested” female, they were likely from the Philippines or were most definitely specialists in “night activities” – call girls.  That was how I got “conned” into purchasing membership to be honest.  You were alerted “someone” was interested in you but you could only see them if you paid up.  How fortunate for the internet site!

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So in summary, if you, as a male my age is wanting to seek a lady via online dating, you will have great success if:

  1. You are Caucasian;
  2. You are a bazillion feet tall (i.e., a few feet taller than ‘Zee Plane’ dude);
  3. Built like Superman and look like him (body suit and cape optional.);
  4. You are a Powerball winner and will take your lady traipsing all over the globe (on your dime);
  5. Earn over $150,000;
  6. Are Christian/Catholic;
  7. And your own kids do not live with you.

dating

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But in summary and in logical thought, online dating is very similar to what Old Man Jack and Mr. Johnson did 70 years ago.

The only difference back then was the eligible lady is there in front of you.  No fake profile pic or dishonesty of body type.  You didn’t ask a gal to dance if she didn’t strike your fancy.  And your chances for a girl increased exponentially if you were the varsity football team’s quarterback, had a hot car (I do) and moolah (I don’t).  And Mr. Johnson cheated, by the way.  He wore the dashing uniform of a United States Marine.

I took them to breakfast for a belated 66th wedding anniversary and 88th birthdays.  Seal Beach, CA.  August 14, 2011.
I took Mr. and Mrs. Johnnie Johnson to breakfast for a belated 66th wedding anniversary and 88th birthdays. Seal Beach, CA. August 14, 2011.

On the positive side, you don’t have to feel the rejection when the gal tells you “no” when asked to dance.  They just don’t reply to your emails now.

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Perhaps I should be dishonest and classify myself as Caucasian.  Nah.  That’s as bad as ladies using photos of themselves from 20 years ago.

Maybe I should realize I’m a Walmartian in the eyes of eligible women.

Or perhaps I should go back to the tried and true Japanese method that’s worked for centuries – contract (arranged) marriage, or お見合い.  Just exchange pictures and you’re set.  Both sets of grandparents met that way.

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My grandparents on my mother’s side at their contract marriage.

Oh, dang.  I did something similar to that the last time.

Aw, nuts.

Surviving Women’s Imaginary Things


bird flu1A fellow (not male) blogger took a light-hearted approach to her surviving her husband’s “man flu“.  Us guys took it on our bearded chins from the ladies.

Lies.  All lies, I say!

Blasphemy that us men would whimper and keel over from the invasion of tiny buggers we can’t even see with a microscope.

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Well, guys, its our turn.  We must defend our manliness.  Light-heartedly, of course.

The other night, I survived another commute home with against hordes of women drivers.

Barely survived.

Actually, it was a wonder I made it home unscathed and not get hit by the invisible things only women drivers can see.

They are gifted.

Us men can only see real things.

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It is not easy “sharing” the road with women drivers when they have a different perceptions of “lanes”, “sharing”…and things only THEY can see.  Invisible things that apparently take up a LOT of space.  Thank goodness they can see them or I would run into these invisible things.

And women’s maligned beliefs they had to suffer the consequences of the man-flu…  Dastardly.  If anything, a man-flu lasts but a week.

Commuting with against females and their invisible things (only visible to them) is five days a week, 50 weeks a year for us hard-working men.

And I thought about the man-flu smack down when I came to this (long) stop light.

I got my trusty new smartphone and managed to snap a picture for evidence (unlike the man-flu blog which had NO evidence)… but of course, none of the HUGE  invisible things only WOMEN can see showed up in the picture.

Invisible Car

(Trust me.  The two vehicles in front of me have female drivers.)

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Here is a schematic of the picture.  By some miracle, it is as UN-females see it:

A schematic of the photograph - which for some reason coincides with a man's view.
A schematic of the photograph – which for some reason coincides with a man’s view.

Notice where in the lane the female driver of the world’s tiniest car has decided to stop at this intersection.  There was obviously a couple of those invisible things that only WOMEN can see…on both sides of her.  If you can catch the Man Flu, you probably can’t see these invisible things.  She is so blessed, isn’t she?

(This was during rush hour.  At a long signal.  With other drivers behind us.  Forming two distinct lines…except for the two cars in front of me.)

Also trust me when I say the perspective of this photo hastily snapped with my smartphone is as deceiving as is the ladies’ perception of the effects of the man-flu.  There is LOTS of space on either side of car #1.

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Which brings us to the second car immediately in front of me.  There is enough space between car #1 and this one that the front offensive line for the Ravens could do their stretching exercises.

Well, she also stopped her car skewed to the right of center…  You can see the reflection of my curbside headlamp on her LEFT tail lamp.  Imagine that.

…and she is not trying to make a right turn…  Here, at least.

She made the turn at the NEXT stop light beyond the freeway overpass.

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Well, gents, a lady friend viewed the photograph at my humble request…  and with her special vision, she pointed out the invisible things to me.  How blessed are women!

THIS is what they can see with their magic vision!

THIS is what women drivers can see with their gift of paranormal eyesight!
THIS is what women drivers can see with their gift of paranormal eyesight!
OK, guys…  How many of you want this special vision that only women possess??!
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woman-driver-part

“Old Man Jack-isms”


Very little outdoes short blurts of wisdom from a World War II combat vet.  Nothing fancy-shmancy.  No big words.  Just good ole salty sailor speak.  To the point.  He earned that right.

Some of his wisdom will be shared here and there without censorship to honor his generation.  You will appreciate that.  “If you don’t, I don’t give a shit,” as he would lovingly say.

But there is regret.  Regret that I did not video Old Man Jack more often.  I have excuses.  Many excuses…but they all lead to regret.

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A couple of months before he secretly moved away, he was lamenting.  Lamenting on apparently losing his long battle with his daughter.

In short, he wanted to live out his life in his home of 58 years.  His home across the street from me.

It wasn’t to be.  His daughter wanted him to move “up” to Big Bear where she lived.  So she could take care of him.  That was the battle.

This day, he knew he would be leaving his beloved home.  He knew in his heart.

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I did have my Droid and managed to turn on the darn contraption in time as we were talking.  I sensed an “Old Man Jack-ism” coming.  It even recorded and properly saved it.  I even uploaded it properly.  Amazing.  It was meant to be.

He was in his beloved wife’s wheel chair…  In his beloved blue plaid shirt with a pocket for his glasses.  I thought he was joking about women in general but realized after he moved the significance of what he said that day.

When arguing with women, “A man ain’t got a chance.”

Gotta love this great American.