Dating Old Geezer Style

****TAKING A BREAK WHILE I PREPARE FOR MY WEDDING ON DEC 7TH. BUT AS ARNOLD "THE GUBINATOR" ONCE SAID, "I'LL BE BACK." THANKS FOR YOUR UNDERSTANDING, PATIENCE, AND LOYALTY.
LATER GATORS,
DOUG

Delusional. It's the only word that correctly describes the inaccurate notion I had that dating again, after 20 years of marriage, would be fun and carefree. After all, because I was older, wiser and had more life-experience, I could avoid the neurosis of the dating world that so many of us experienced when we were young and immature. WRONG!

Eight years into this dating-in-the-adult-world thing, I've not only learned that the neurosis still exists but it's actually increased. There are now more things to be neurotic about.

For one thing, Father Time is not kind to the human body. When I was younger, although I was slim, my muscles were hard and defined. I was, to quote the Bob Seger song, "Like A Rock." But at the age of 40, when I became single again, I was less like a rock and more like the Pillsbury Dough Boy. Exercise became my second religion.

And just about the time that strength-training was actually showing some nice dividends, I incurred reminders (various strains and pulls of muscles) that I'm not as young as I used to be.

So instead of exercise, I now do the suck-in-your-gut-when-a-nice-looking-lady-walks-by thing. And like a lot of other guys, I've deceived myself into believing that not only does this make my stomach look smaller but some how sucking my midsection up to my chin makes my chest look bigger, stronger, and more impressive.

There are other quandaries lurking in the adult dating world. Because I don't want my date thinking I'm an invalid, I try to hide the infirmities age has inflicted upon me. Reading glasses are a good example of what I'm talking about. The need for them is part of the aging process, and though I didn't want them I have them.

My solution? I leave them home. Riiiiight, like squinting to read the restaurant menu that I'm holding at arms length doesn't give my date a clue that my eyes need a little assistance.

Then there's the dilemma I face after eating a nice big, spicy meal: do I, in front of my date, pop into my mouth a couple of anti-acids (only old geezers need them, right?), or do I leave them in my pocket and suffer unspeakable pain throughout the rest of the evening?

While we're on the subject of the digestive system, since after a certain age everything one ingests gives one gas, when on a date, how does one discretely dispose of the rumbling methane building in my intestines after a meal?

Well I do the gentlemanly thing. I wait until we're in a crowd, quietly let loose of the gas, and then blame it on someone else.

"Can you believe someone would be so gross as to flatulate in public? There's no consideration for others anymore."

Just kidding. What I really do is hold it in until I bloat like a bovine loose in an alfalfa field, all the time fearing I'll float away on the wind like a human helium balloon.

Another question that arises is just how picky should I be concerning whom I date? Well I've come to understand that the answer lies in a simple equation--the longer I'm single the lower my standards. The personal ads in the classified section of a newspaper demonstrate what I mean.

If a young guy were to take out one of these ads his requirements for a date might read like the following:

Must be physically fit, high energy, vivacious, adventurous, dresses fashionably but is as comfortable in jeans as she is in an evening gown, is a witty, intelligent, professional; financially secure and emotionally stable.

Where as an ad from an older man might read:

Must be breathing, have most of her teeth and only a little facial hair, not too bald, shaves her legs and armpits every now-and- again, wears shoes, doesn't chew tobacco on a regular basis, occasionally uses deodorant, bathes once a month, and regularly takes her meds to control her mental illness.

Multiple divorces are also obstacles for the single adult. Evidently there's an unwritten rule that one divorce is OK, but multiple divorces are as scary as multiple personalities and for the same reason . . . something just ain't right.

One might think then that the never-been-married group would have the upper hand in this world of adult dating. Nope. That's just as much a liability as multiple divorces. You see, another unwritten rule is the 35-and-older person who has never been married, well, there's probably a very good reason for that so stay clear. ARRRRRRG!

Yes, the dating world for adults is more confusing, frustrating, and neurotic then when we were teens. A Rubik's Cube is an easier mystery to solve. So what's one to do? When I figure that out I'll be sure to let you. Right now I have to get ready for a date.

Hey, dating might be confusing, frustrating, and neurotic, but it beats an evening home alone trying to solve a Rubik's Cube.

Authors Note: Since this writing, I have become engaged. More on that later.