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When I'm 63
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Sept. 14, 1999 |
"I chose not to pursue my daughter's father for child
support because he did not want a baby. He
made himself very clear on the subject, and I chose to go ahead with the
pregnancy anyway. 'I chose' are the operative words there. If he had wanted
the baby, and I chose not to continue the pregnancy, there would have been
nothing he could do about it. I firmly believe that, since women have the option of NOT
becoming parents, men should have this option as well. If a man cannot make a woman have
a child she does not want, a woman should not be able to do the same to a man. This is
what equality means, ladies. You don't get all the fun. I believe the
correct term to use in this case would be 'suck it up.'" A good point, but I stick by my advice. Men and women are not in an equal position when it
comes to children, and any man who has lived with a pregnant woman and been present at
childbirth knows this. Abortion is not a 50-50 proposition either. Birth control pills brought a
sort of equality to having sex, but when conception occurs, all bets are off, and a man must
accept the consequences of the glorious nights he enjoyed. That is my position, and old-fashioned and ill-informed and judgmental and marginalizing and non-nurturing as it may
be, I'll stick to it. Dear Mr. Blue, I am a 63-year-old woman blessed with incredible genes. My mother is 81 and looks like my
sister; my father is 86 and looks like he is maybe 50. I look great. I'm a size 4. I have great
bones. I love men, and I love sex. But no one ever asks me out, except a
couple of old friends and a few lovers who are married to other women. They tell me that I
should just enjoy life with them but I want to meet interesting, sexy men who are not
married. A considerate man who loves sex, good food, good movies, classical music. I
could delight such a man indefinitely. What is wrong with me? Perplexed in Mississippi Dear Perplexed, Nothing is wrong with you whatsoever, but perhaps Mississippi is low on
unmarried, sexy men who are interesting and who are interested in 63-year-old women with
great bones, so, as when you search the woods for your car keys, you must cover a great
deal of ground and look closely. Look for "interesting" first and then cull the marrieds from
the herd. An interesting man is one who can talk and when he does, doesn't talk about his
pickup, or football, or hunting. Football is a depressant, like most sports, and hunting is
mostly about drinking and male bondage, and pickups are not suitable friends: They are motor
vehicles. You might feel differently, but I don't know any interesting people who don't read
books, so you might start nosing around bookstores and the library. You can spend hours in
these places and not spend a dime and nobody blinks at it. Avoid the auto-repair section; hew
toward nonfiction, history, biography, and when you see the zebra come to the water hole,
approach him and ask an innocent question about whatever section he seems to be browsing
in -- e.g., "Do you know any good books about World War II?" -- and if he leaps away in
alarm, let him go, and if he answers appropriately, scan his left hand, and if it's clear of
ringage, tell him in a quiet voice that he is awfully good-looking. Tell him this as a preface
to something else, e.g., "I suppose you hear this all the time, but you're what I call a blanket
man. Speaking of which, do you know where I'd find the poetry section?" The vanity of men
should never be underestimated, and women, for some reason, have given up playing to
men's vanity, thinking perhaps that in the 12-Step Era, frankness and empathy are the
key. Nonsense. Men go to pieces if a woman compliments their appearance, their overall
sexiness, because it almost never happens. So this man, dazed, not knowing exactly what
"blanket man" means (neither do I, I just made it up), follows you into the poetry section
where you are browsing, and, as he approaches, you look up and smile and you ask him,
"What do you think of this?" and you read him a poem -- like Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese" or
James Wright's "A Blessing" or, if you are brave, something sexy by Sharon Olds -- and you
judge this man by his response. If he can say that he likes it and sound plausible, then he's
worth looking into. Good luck, and remember that good advice can be magical: Sometimes
you do the exact opposite and achieve the same result. Mr. Blue Garrison Keillor's column appears every Tuesday in Salon Books.
Feeling blue about your prose? In the doldrums over your last date? Ask Mr. Blue. Dear Mr. Blue, I ruin every relationship I'm in with insane jealousy and depression. I've been through every kind of counseling, self-help book, anti-depressant, religious revival, 12-step program, you name it. Now I'm even freaking exercising. But I know I haven't really changed and wonder if change is possible. I trust you will give me the straight dope: Can leopards change their spots? Spotted Stella Dear Stella, Depression is a separate issue, a dangerous malady, and you need to address that by seeing a psychiatrist. If one anti-depressant doesn't work, have your doctor switch you to another. As for insane jealousy, it is likely exacerbated by the depression: You're in a dark and scary place, you clutch onto the person you're with and can't let go. Address your depression, and you'll find yourself, if not a cougar or puma or jaguar, then a happier leopard. Dear Mr. Blue, I am a 34-year-old short story writer whose dilemma has to do with the 25-year-old woman I have been involved with for the past nine months. She doesn't read, except for the occasional detective story and astrology book. But novels and short stories have no place in her life. She is very beautiful and sweet, a good, intelligent person who supports my dream to write. In short, she is everything I could ever want, save for her lack of interest in literature. She talks about our settling down in a half-joking way, and I feel the panic raise itself. I am divided, in that I like her, but worry about her not being a part of my writing life. We connect on the basic levels of values and attraction, but when it comes to talking about authors and books, offering up useful feedback for my work, I find she has very little to say. My fear is that I may be shortchanging myself by not being with a partner who could take me further along in my writing with her insight and commentary. Of course the flip side would be to date a fiction writer, something I have absolutely no desire to do (one of me is quite enough). Muddled Dear Muddled, You're right that one of you is enough. Yours is the whiniest letter I've seen in a coon's age. You're worried that this beautiful and good and intelligent and sweet person may not be a worthy professional asset to you? Pardon me while I throw up. Whatever happened to passion and romance? Bubbie, do this fine lady a favor and tell her you're not good enough for her and send her on her way. Clearly, you don't love her. Go write your short stories and hook up with a woman who can copy edit, but if you ask me, it'll take more than insight and feedback to make a writer of you -- anyone who can write, "We connect on the basic levels of values and attraction," is not what I call a great talent -- but you didn't ask me.
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