It's
November 2nd and some trees are still full and green. My
neighbor has her landscape company cutting her lawn today and we had
a Superstorm roll through. In a couple of days we roll the clocks
back and I've yet to fire up the furnace. In a few weeks,
Thanksgiving Day will be here. In years past it could be freezing
cold, snowy or typical November. There's nothing typical anymore.
Am
I bitching? No, just noticing what's going on around me. Plus I have
nothing to talk about as I'm running out of subjects to bore you
with. I don't wish to repeat old stories, but as I get older, at
times it's unavoidable. You know how I preface some conversations
now? I start them with “Stop me if I've told you this before.”
What
kind of old man do I want to be when I grow up? A letching gray
haired fool might be a career...no? I knew a guy, who at 70 would
jog with his best friend on the beaches in South County and as a
reward for being so health minded, he and his friend would grab a few
sodas, sit back and leer at girls in bikinis. This guy was
psychiatrist, with a doctorate, published books and a thriving
practice still at that age. He was not your garden variety perv.
He
told me sexual attitudes have to change. He wasn't ready to hang his
hat up yet as he was still switched “on” in his estimation. “I
am attracted to women and still am...not like I can just hang up my
work boots just yet...and everyone else isn't going to tell me I'm
done yet.”
“It
amazes me how young men, in their 20's, will look aghast at me if I
point out pretty girls. They look at me with a 'How dare
you' look...It's the guys mostly, not the girls who respond like
this...and not one guy will dare ask me why I look...they're scared
shitless of me.”
“You
have ravenous, divorced cougars staking young men, gays marrying,
black/white, black/hispanic and every flavor of lesbian out
there...but if I look at a younger women...oh no..that's not
allowed...I'm a criminal!”
*****
“I
want to find a rich old man with a bad cough.” Kerrie jokingly once
said to me.
“Are
you for real?” I say.
She
thinks for a moment. Then tells me that to her ex husband, who was
her age, was a major mistake. She complained that he was immature,
impulsive, never did advance his career and would fuck her like a
jackhammer, which she grew tired of. She found that she was carrying
the load of the marriage money-wise and effort-wise as well. There
wasn't a equal sharing of the burdens in their lives.
She
did, for a brief period, date a a 58 year old guy, who was 20 years
her senior.
“He
wasn't rich but financially stable, emotionally stable too. He didn't
fuck me like a 19 year old boy either. He was effortless really, not
'work', like that child I married back then.”
“So
why aren't you with him anymore?” I ask
“I
couldn't get past, advance past, his aging looks. He was great on the
inside though, kind, real, level-headed...but I tried to get past his
thinning hair, his crow's feet...and I couldn't. I'm superficial as
hell I guess.”
“Kerrie...most
28 year old guys would say the same about you, at your age now.”
“Yeah...I
know...love sucks. The same unbreakable rules I hold others too, are
held against me.”
“Yep”
I say. “Well, hope against hope, you can maybe find an aging CEO
with property in the Bahamas.”
“Yeah,
and everywhere we go, people can ask him, 'Is this your daughter?'”
 |
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