Thursday, April 13, 2006


I’ve been reading something called the Kvetch Blog. It’s written from the feminine viewpoint with a light lyricism. I feel like an intruder there so I’ve backed off leaving comments. She’s started dating again at 40ish. Been there, done that.

It brought back a ton of memories which will give me material enough for a long series of pieces, all of which will be greatly educational I’m sure.

I came home from Vietnam for the last time when I was approaching 40 and had never been married. At that time I had dated only two American women in my life. I was carrying baggage in the form of my half Vietnamese 4-year-old son.

Shortly after we settled in Southern California I met a real estate lady. She was in her middle to late 30s, single, with two grown sons and a daughter about my kid’s age. We spoke a few times and then went out. On our first date I was driving toward Laguna Beach at night on the Coast Highway. The top was down on my T-Bird but the heater was going full blast.

She looked at me. “You’re going to drive with the top down?” she asked.

I immediately pulled over to the shoulder to raise the top. It was no problem. A motor did the work.

“No, no,” she protested. She loved it with the top down. She insisted I leave it.

As the evening progressed other things were said, and I suddenly realized she fit the profile in my essay And yet Another Nobel Prize…NOT. (This is in the April, 2005 archives.) So I said, “I bet one of your sons is gay.”

“Yes,” she said, not seeming surprised at all, and she went on to talk about her family.

We continued dating for a while because, besides her head, other things were okay. That should come as no surprise because guys will take a neurotic bed partner over Mother Teresa any night of the week

Very often, in bed, the nuttier the better. Write that down. That will be in the exam.

Here’s a very important footnote: Stay away from married women but especially neurotic married women. I had a brief fling with one of the latter. Then an image came to me. I could see her in her bedroom having an argument with her husband. To get back at him, I could hear her say, “Oh yeah, well I’m screwing (so and so). What do you think about that?”

That scene came to me as if I were there.

I got out of that situation.


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