Monday, June 18, 2007


(PICTURE: She’s probably not perfect. She’s probably not as kind as Santa Claus. But life is a series of compromises.)

The Perfect Woman essay below got me to thinking. Back in the 70s I was committed to stay in America because my son from Vietnam had to stay. There was nowhere else he could go. So, at the advanced age of 40, I started dating American women. I have described many of my experiences in this blog in essays with the subtitle Dating After 40, but most of those were of the longer term variety. There were many “one date” happenings that could only occur in America.

One lady told me firmly that I must begin every sentence with the phrase, “In my opinion…”

Another, after finding I had spent many years in Asia, said, “Bring those women here. We’ll straighten them out in no time.”

“I know,” I replied. “That’s why we can never bring them here.”

That pretty much ended that date.

American women are fixated on romance. I had a very brief affair with a lovely (approaching 40) blonde. We got along very well and all of our peripherals seemed to fit for a more permanent arrangement, which I suggested.

“But,” she said, “I’m not in love with you.”

I replied, “What the hell does love have to do with it?” To be honest, at that point I started suspecting she was not all there. I won’t go into details, but she had more negatives in those aforementioned peripherals than I. The reader may suspect that this is sour grapes but I had no hard feelings. I only offered a convenient relationship. They are generally stronger than a bond of love because a perceived betrayal is easier to take.

I quit seeing her because I started thinking she was a flake and I was looking for a more permanent relationship. She called me a year later and we met again but I didn’t renew the offer. I had become convinced she was a flake.

Sometimes it takes a while so see beyond the great body.


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