I'm either a recovering romantic or a realist with a romanticism problem.
Scratch that - cliched as it may be, I think it's both.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
"Swing Swing" Goes the Pendulum
After the last, gloomy post, hope for the future has been somewhat restored... It doesn't take much to put a smile back on my face after all. :)
Apologies for the cry wolf...
Apologies for the cry wolf...
Thursday, January 10, 2008
"I Was Wasting My Time..."
"I was wasting my time trying to fall in love
disappointment came to me and booted me and bruised and hurt me"
"I was wasting my time praying for love /
For the love that never comes from someone who does not exist."
- Morrissey, "That's How People Grow Up"
Many years ago, when I was a kid, I remember discovering what I thought was the most ingenious time-saving technique: when looking to cross a street and the crosswalk light was red, I could save time by walking towards the destination on my side of the street, while keeping an eye out for the next green light. Brilliant! I felt quite pleased with myself. "Now I'm a man," I metaphorically said, "I've unlocked the last of life's mysteries. There is no more knowledge left to be discovered!" Hey, waddaya want? I was like 8 or something..
For the past few years - and I think I'm not alone among bachelors my age - I've essentially been using this trick where relationships were concerned. During my many dry spells, I sort of figured I could make up for future lost time by at least accruing wisdom. I'd listen to my friends' tales of marvelous successes and horrible failures, observe, read, concoct hypotheses, theorize; and maybe, maybe - I'd be that much smarter for when it was my "turn". I'd know what to look out for. I'd have picked up some advice without paying the price others have. I'd circumvent the so-common disastrous relationship, and skip to the real deal. So sure, maybe I'd lose out on the wonderful turbulent-yet-romantic crosswalk of 20-something love, but I'd still be strolling across from it on my end of the street, gazing patiently, ready to leap straight into "good relationship" - whatever that means - as soon as I would pass by a green-lighted crosswalk.
In the past, I've always had my deep-set optimism to rely on to snap me out of these thoughts. Lately, however, it hasn't been happening: where once I could see where a potential window of opportunity might emerge, I've lately been feeling that I've well and truly maxed out my options. Even the old drive that would push me out of the house, which I've alluded to all over this blog, even on the very first post - isn't there. It feels pointless after so many past nights out on the town, only around one hundredth of which made it to these pages. Everything's still in place, and I'm the same person I've always been, but one thing's changed - my optimism.
As I told a friend recently, if romance is earth, I'm feeling like Voyager 2, floating away on an entirely different trajectory.
OK, I'll quit my whining now...
Friday, December 07, 2007
Sira, Thursday Night, 2AM
"Hi! Uhh.. cheers!" Man, am I rusty! Awkward glance. "cheers.."
They're two ladies, one mid 20's, the other early 30's, dressed in a suspicious black-on-black - black tops beneath black vests, black stockings, (white-patterned belt), both in skirts.
"So.. I've got to ask you... out of curiosity.. are you two religious? or maybe ex-religious?"
Younger one nods, older one says, "wait. Do I look religious?" She's giving me quite a severe look. Her friend lights up a cigarette.
"Well, I mean - it could go either way, but I've been getting the feeling.. see, I can sort of recognize - I also come from a semi-traditional backg-", "so do I look possibly religious, or definitely religious?"
"possibly, I guess." (You're too polite! Sure, that's who you are, but while you're here - why not play the game? Be an asshole. You're in a sex-crazed den, for god's sake! There's a couple sucking each other's tonsils out right behind you..) "Too bad". "Why's that?" "I wanted to look completely religious. And yes, we're actually Hozrot Betshuva*".
"Ok..," what the hell are these two doing in this alcohol-soaked dive?? "why is it so important for you to look definitely religious?" "Because it affects me. It projects outwards". "But why? Maybe it projects something towards others, on the outside, but if you've made this sort of choice, shouldn't you be more at peace on the inside? I should think it would matter a lot less than it does to you.."
"What happens on the outside affects what happens on the inside," she says. Her friend is heading towards the dance floor, and pulls her along. As she gets sucked into that black-hole, she blurts out what sounds to me like "we've found a higher truth." And they're gone.
For the next half hour I'm there, guys are hitting on them - separately and together.
Fascination and revulsion. Another night in Jerusalem.
* "Born again" Jews.
They're two ladies, one mid 20's, the other early 30's, dressed in a suspicious black-on-black - black tops beneath black vests, black stockings, (white-patterned belt), both in skirts.
"So.. I've got to ask you... out of curiosity.. are you two religious? or maybe ex-religious?"
Younger one nods, older one says, "wait. Do I look religious?" She's giving me quite a severe look. Her friend lights up a cigarette.
"Well, I mean - it could go either way, but I've been getting the feeling.. see, I can sort of recognize - I also come from a semi-traditional backg-", "so do I look possibly religious, or definitely religious?"
"possibly, I guess." (You're too polite! Sure, that's who you are, but while you're here - why not play the game? Be an asshole. You're in a sex-crazed den, for god's sake! There's a couple sucking each other's tonsils out right behind you..) "Too bad". "Why's that?" "I wanted to look completely religious. And yes, we're actually Hozrot Betshuva*".
"Ok..," what the hell are these two doing in this alcohol-soaked dive?? "why is it so important for you to look definitely religious?" "Because it affects me. It projects outwards". "But why? Maybe it projects something towards others, on the outside, but if you've made this sort of choice, shouldn't you be more at peace on the inside? I should think it would matter a lot less than it does to you.."
"What happens on the outside affects what happens on the inside," she says. Her friend is heading towards the dance floor, and pulls her along. As she gets sucked into that black-hole, she blurts out what sounds to me like "we've found a higher truth." And they're gone.
For the next half hour I'm there, guys are hitting on them - separately and together.
Fascination and revulsion. Another night in Jerusalem.
* "Born again" Jews.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Why I Support the Anti-Smoking Law with Every Fiber of My Being
The new, tougher smoking law that has gone into effect recently is completely justified. Not everyone seems to agree on this, though*.
The naysayers generally fall into two groups:
a) wishful thinkers, i.e. those that see the problem with exposing non-smokers to smoke in public, but oppose the law on the grounds of harm to personal property rights, and
b) idiots, i.e. those that see no problem with the situation as it's been.
Let me start with the second group. These inconsiderate bozos will conveniently play blind to the reality of Israeli nightlife over the past 24 years (since the first anti-smoking laws were enacted in 1983), in which many if not most smokers didn't give a rat's ass about breaking the law, inconveniencing others to satisfy their own habit, and arguing back or giving a nasty look whenever politely asked to put out their cigarette. They describe a self-serving, imaginary "status quo" like it ever had any significant support from the three quarters of overage Israelis who don't smoke**. Their royal highnesses will sometimes be so kind as to claim that if it's so bothersome to non-smokers, they can "just ask" - like a non-smoker should ever have to.
To them, I say this:
I feel the need to point this out because these people often talk like the whole point of a nightspot is to smoke in it. It isn't. Smokers enjoy smoking in those places, but everyone else doesn't. I'm sure some people would enjoy starting a sing-along, masturbating or loudly proselytizing the Word Of The Lord in there, but everyone else wouldn't. The only reason nightspots have become so synonymous with smoking is because it's been grudgingly put up with. And spare me the relativist BS: the "lots of people do it so it's ok" argument has been used to defend everything from the Israeli's chronic overdraft to cannibalism and slavery. It's not.
They will usually try to nitpick with that old red herring: "how is smoking different from drinking, or driving a car? They can also harm your health! And what about overeating? Why don't you just outlaw food?"
Well done.(clap, clap.) Good for you. (clap clap.)
Before I answer why cigarettes are different, can I just point out that I can't stand these lines of argument? I mean, is that question supposed to conversely insinuate that by justifying the legality of food they've somehow proved it's OK to smoke in someone's face?? it makes me want to answer back with convenient, ridiculously over-simplistic analogies of my own: "Adolf Hitler was bad for a lot of people's health - I suppose you would've supported him!"
No, but seriously, their retort is that substances and acts such as drinking, driving, any kind of noise etc. can be harmful to others, yet are still allowed. What makes smoking different to the other oft-mentioned "legal drugs", is that smoking is simultaneously harmful to one's own health, physically addictive and an inconvenience to others even when used in moderation (the three strikes.) A single cigarette will bother most non-smokers, and quite likely harm their health - though I'll submit that the research findings have been contested.
So let me clarify: I am by no means a supporter of government intervention, especially if it can be circumvented by other means. The decision to curtail an individual freedom is a serious, potentially catastrophic one, not to be taken lightly. I oppose limiting a person's right to something that may harm himself or others if abused - e.g. drinking, driving, owning a knife etc. - because that would hurt the rights of responsible users. However, when something has all the detractions I've listed above, that's when I consider legally curtailing its use in public, if social norm doesn't take care of it first. It hasn't.
The bottom line is, this twisted situation has remained: a three-quarter (and growing) non-smoking majority, with virtually no options for attending a nightspot without being exposed to cigarette smoke. It's what's known in economics as a market failure - when the combined interests, preferences and tastes of people operating with free reign do not manage to bring about their desired result. The reasons for the failure in this case would be too long to write out here, but it does go to show the tremendous power of the norm, of habit, of what is.
The "classic" solution to market failures is government intervention. While this has been hotly contested by the more conservative end of the economic spectrum - also worthy of its own post - I feel this is largely as a reaction to a long tradition of uncalled-for or overused government intervention, rather than an actual preference of market failures over alternatives in every case. As I've written earlier, I'm no fan of interventionism per se, but the facts on the ground remain: given effective property rights, the non-smoker does not face a realistic non-smoking option. I think the pros outweigh the cons in this case.
There's a lot of semantics involved. If one paints this as a major Property Rights Issue, then it sounds like something that should be defended to the grave; but we're not talking about curtailing anyone's freedom of expression, freedom of employment (which has been curtailed under the present system) or any other basic freedom. We're not forbidding smoking - that would be a far more fundamental issue. We're only restricting smoking in areas where lots of non-smokers normally gather. Smokers can smoke at home or outside all they want.*** I don't see how the alternatives, in which non-smokers had no viable options, or even the "segregated nightspots" theory (which would hurt freedom of employment as well as drive a social wedge in Israeli nightlife), are so much better.
One day - when smokers become an even smaller segment of society, when the common social norm is that they never light up unless they know they won't be bothering anyone, and when plenty of non-smoking venues exist - this law won't be necessary. Right now, I think it absolutely is.
* for the sake of this post, I'm referring specifically to nightspots.
** not that it's a popularity contest. Even if there were a majority of smokers, it still wouldn't entitle them to inconvenience and possibly harm the health of others with no good purpose.
*** I've been asked what the distinction is between the home and a nightspot - since they're both private property, and people can choose whether to come to them. While they are both technically private, for this particular issue the answer is in the latter part of the question - people couldn't (until now) really choose not to come because they had no realistic non-smoking nightspot options.
a) wishful thinkers, i.e. those that see the problem with exposing non-smokers to smoke in public, but oppose the law on the grounds of harm to personal property rights, and
b) idiots, i.e. those that see no problem with the situation as it's been.
Let me start with the second group. These inconsiderate bozos will conveniently play blind to the reality of Israeli nightlife over the past 24 years (since the first anti-smoking laws were enacted in 1983), in which many if not most smokers didn't give a rat's ass about breaking the law, inconveniencing others to satisfy their own habit, and arguing back or giving a nasty look whenever politely asked to put out their cigarette. They describe a self-serving, imaginary "status quo" like it ever had any significant support from the three quarters of overage Israelis who don't smoke**. Their royal highnesses will sometimes be so kind as to claim that if it's so bothersome to non-smokers, they can "just ask" - like a non-smoker should ever have to.
To them, I say this:
When god created humans, and with them the innate desire to socialize in a dimly-lit space after a hard day's work, he/she didn't create said space full of cigarette smoke.
I feel the need to point this out because these people often talk like the whole point of a nightspot is to smoke in it. It isn't. Smokers enjoy smoking in those places, but everyone else doesn't. I'm sure some people would enjoy starting a sing-along, masturbating or loudly proselytizing the Word Of The Lord in there, but everyone else wouldn't. The only reason nightspots have become so synonymous with smoking is because it's been grudgingly put up with. And spare me the relativist BS: the "lots of people do it so it's ok" argument has been used to defend everything from the Israeli's chronic overdraft to cannibalism and slavery. It's not.
They will usually try to nitpick with that old red herring: "how is smoking different from drinking, or driving a car? They can also harm your health! And what about overeating? Why don't you just outlaw food?"
Well done.
Before I answer why cigarettes are different, can I just point out that I can't stand these lines of argument?
No, but seriously, their retort is that substances and acts such as drinking, driving, any kind of noise etc. can be harmful to others, yet are still allowed. What makes smoking different to the other oft-mentioned "legal drugs", is that smoking is simultaneously harmful to one's own health, physically addictive and an inconvenience to others even when used in moderation (the three strikes.) A single cigarette will bother most non-smokers, and quite likely harm their health - though I'll submit that the research findings have been contested.
So let me clarify: I am by no means a supporter of government intervention, especially if it can be circumvented by other means. The decision to curtail an individual freedom is a serious, potentially catastrophic one, not to be taken lightly. I oppose limiting a person's right to something that may harm himself or others if abused - e.g. drinking, driving, owning a knife etc. - because that would hurt the rights of responsible users. However, when something has all the detractions I've listed above, that's when I consider legally curtailing its use in public, if social norm doesn't take care of it first. It hasn't.
Which brings me to the first group. They seem to have garnered a fair bit of support. On the face of it, there's a certain neat logic to it: allow nightspot owners to choose for themselves what sort of business they'll have. Non-smokers will be able to choose to go to non-smoking venues, while smokers could still enjoy themselves in smoking establishments.
The problem? It doesn't work.
The fact is, the freedom for every owner to decide whether his business will allow smoking or not has existed effectively for, well, ever. In the past 24 years, it may have been technically illegal to have a smoking nightspot, but this law has never really been enforced; and on the flip side, every nightspot owner has always enjoyed the legal freedom to ban smoking on his property if he wished. But what happened? All the bars ended up being smoking bars. There have been only a handful of attempts to open non-smoking bars in Israel.
The problem? It doesn't work.
The fact is, the freedom for every owner to decide whether his business will allow smoking or not has existed effectively for, well, ever. In the past 24 years, it may have been technically illegal to have a smoking nightspot, but this law has never really been enforced; and on the flip side, every nightspot owner has always enjoyed the legal freedom to ban smoking on his property if he wished. But what happened? All the bars ended up being smoking bars. There have been only a handful of attempts to open non-smoking bars in Israel.
The bottom line is, this twisted situation has remained: a three-quarter (and growing) non-smoking majority, with virtually no options for attending a nightspot without being exposed to cigarette smoke. It's what's known in economics as a market failure - when the combined interests, preferences and tastes of people operating with free reign do not manage to bring about their desired result. The reasons for the failure in this case would be too long to write out here, but it does go to show the tremendous power of the norm, of habit, of what is.
The "classic" solution to market failures is government intervention. While this has been hotly contested by the more conservative end of the economic spectrum - also worthy of its own post - I feel this is largely as a reaction to a long tradition of uncalled-for or overused government intervention, rather than an actual preference of market failures over alternatives in every case. As I've written earlier, I'm no fan of interventionism per se, but the facts on the ground remain: given effective property rights, the non-smoker does not face a realistic non-smoking option. I think the pros outweigh the cons in this case.
There's a lot of semantics involved. If one paints this as a major Property Rights Issue, then it sounds like something that should be defended to the grave; but we're not talking about curtailing anyone's freedom of expression, freedom of employment (which has been curtailed under the present system) or any other basic freedom. We're not forbidding smoking - that would be a far more fundamental issue. We're only restricting smoking in areas where lots of non-smokers normally gather. Smokers can smoke at home or outside all they want.*** I don't see how the alternatives, in which non-smokers had no viable options, or even the "segregated nightspots" theory (which would hurt freedom of employment as well as drive a social wedge in Israeli nightlife), are so much better.
One day - when smokers become an even smaller segment of society, when the common social norm is that they never light up unless they know they won't be bothering anyone, and when plenty of non-smoking venues exist - this law won't be necessary. Right now, I think it absolutely is.
* for the sake of this post, I'm referring specifically to nightspots.
*** I've been asked what the distinction is between the home and a nightspot - since they're both private property, and people can choose whether to come to them. While they are both technically private, for this particular issue the answer is in the latter part of the question - people couldn't (until now) really choose not to come because they had no realistic non-smoking nightspot options.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
The TGF (Two-Girl Fortress) Has Fallen!
In a previous post, I introduced the TGF - Two Girl Fortress - as the impregnable wall, the unsolvable riddle, the nemesis of Nice Guys the world over. No longer. Today, I've officially cracked it. Hurray, the king is dead!
Quick recap: Often occurring at a night spot, a TGF is a situation where 1) two (or more) ladies are engaged in conversation, 2) you're interested in one of them, and 3) there's no possibility of eye contact with her (e.g. she has her back to you), and thus no hope of a reciprocated "go ahead" smile.
Why not just talk to her, you ask? Hold on, there's more.. As I'd written in said post:
Quick recap: Often occurring at a night spot, a TGF is a situation where 1) two (or more) ladies are engaged in conversation, 2) you're interested in one of them, and 3) there's no possibility of eye contact with her (e.g. she has her back to you), and thus no hope of a reciprocated "go ahead" smile.
Why not just talk to her, you ask? Hold on, there's more.. As I'd written in said post:
"Here's my problem: I need a ruse. I cannot, under any circumstances, walk up to two ladies in the middle of a conversation and say "hi", without having some reasonable excuse for doing it. I'm towering above them as they sit, I'm cutting into their lively conversation, and I'm still basically nobody to them. I don't care if she or both are single and looking; I don't care how many times you'll tell me it's "normal" and "expected" and "flattering"; I don't care if you've uncovered her secret diary expressly saying she wishes someone who looked just like me would walk right up to her in the middle of a conversation and start talking - I will never feel like anything other than an intrusive stranger butting in. My price for being civilized."
So, 4) I'm a polite non-actor who doesn't enjoy butting into total strangers' lively conversation with a ludicrously transparent agenda. The situation's stressful enough as it is! There you have it: the TGF. One tough nut to crack.
Fast forward to this evening. Ran into a classic TGF: I was at a bar with a couple friends, sitting at a table, there were two girls ahead of me, and the one I was interested in was with her back to me. My brain goes into action again, furiously trying to figure out how to solve this old doozy. Clutching at straws, I thought I'd try a technique I had once fantasized about doing, a trick that requires a great deal of confidence and good humor to work. Tonight, for a change, I had it - encountering this dilemma yet again, after so many other instances, allowed me to see its comic side, and ease up just enough to try. I won't say what the trick is, because it's kind of embarrassing. For the sake of the story, I'll just say that it allows me to stay seated and yet try to get her attention.
So I gave it a try. Just as I started, however, she got up to go to the bathroom, rendering my attempts futile. This felt like a sign from the heavens: some higher force, the same one who's enjoyed taunting me for years with beautiful, attached ladies and TGF's, was laughing at my attempts to storm the old fortress. Predictably, this took most of the wind out of it for me. My army had thundered towards the walls, morale high, with all their bravery and might, only to storm an empty fortress. Needless to say, they now saw their commander as kind of a jackass...
Normally I would stop here. There's only a short window of opportunity where you're still hopeful and self-confident enough to try these things; after that, you slide into self-awareness and thus lose any chance of being charming enough for a total stranger to accommodate you. But I couldn't give up yet. Something about still, after all these years, being unable to come up with a reasonable solution to this frustrating quandary told me that. She came back to the table.
I summoned what little remaining ease and confidence I had, and tried again. But this time, there was simply no response. Try as I did to raise my voice, she couldn't seem to hear me. If she did, she certainly wasn't showing it.. She must've assumed I'm a loud busybody - surely an endearing quality! My army had attacked the correct fortress all right, but this time it had been roundly defeated. Bruised and battered, the surviving few came back to report it's time to call it quits. With my friends trying to console me - poor guys, they probably wondered why I was taking this so personally; if only they knew the demons I was facing! - I pretty much did.
Then her friend got up to go to the bathroom.
By this point, I'd become quite sick and tired of this feeling of helplessness. "aw, fuck it!". With no hesitation, and certainly no game-plan, I got up and sat opposite her. I was smiling. This was going to be honest. "Look," I said, "I've been trying all night to figure out a way to hit on you. Now, I know this is kind of sudden and out of the blue, but I'll be sitting right over there. If you think you might be interested, feel free to let me know on your way out or something. No pressure, and sorry if I've made you feel uncomfortable."
I got up and went back to my seat, exhausted but vindicated. I'd done it! Thing is, though, about halfway through my little speech, she gave me that look of "that's sweet but I have a boyfriend; you can stop now. Please?" I wasn't too optimistic, but at least I'd tried, and that was something.
I'm back at the table. No response from her. She doesn't turn around, her girlfriend facing me doesn't give any communicative, playful looks at me, nothing. I wait for a while longer and then announce to the guys we can go - I get the message.
As I step out - another rejection for the record books - the unthinkable happens. She gets up and practically chases after me outside the bar. "Is it still relevant?" she asks. So cute.. "Of course it is!" Apparently, I'd completely misinterpreted her reaction.
A short conversation later, I had her number. :)
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Talk Talk Talk
In an article that came out today, Jerusalem's glorious mayor, Uri Lupolianski, wrote Transportation Minister Shaul Mofaz requesting that Road 9 not become a toll road. Road 9 connects those coming to Jerusalem from the direction of Tel-Aviv straight to the Begin thruway, and bypasses the traffic at the center of the city.
I couldn't help but notice there was no mention of who had put such an offer on the table in the first place, or anyone explaining the underlying logic for such a proposal. I'd be happy to make up my mind, if I were given some rational explanations either way, but instead the article only quotes politicians too busy covering their own asses to professionally address this issue.
One by one, they dispel and excoriate the idea. It's a chorus of them, yelling "noooo... no no no. Of course I'm against it. It's a terrible idea". It's almost like these damned empty-rhetoric throw-a-fish-to-the-"masses" politicos are trying to one-up each other in the vividness of their description; all, presumably, to get more votes next time their sorry asses are up for reelection. Loophole-ianski went for gold by writing, "it's inconceivable that at the entrance to our nation's capital, there will be one slow, clogged road for the poor, while next to them the Mercedes', Volvo's and luxury cars of the wealthy will be whizzing by". Yep, you write 'em, boy. Tug on the hearts of your constituency you must think are really, really, stupid. Thanks for the professional assessment.
I can't get over this incredibly annoying habit politicians have - a complete and utter disconnect between action and rhetoric. Do anything you want, absolutely anything you feel like; just remember to give it a ridiculous, shamelessly see-through spin for the "masses" you must scorn so much.
A couple other recent examples come to mind: the laughable stipend the government has offered Holocaust survivors, and the bread price wars. In the first affair, Prime Minister Olmert's Office offered an 83-shekel (around $20) monthly stipend for Holocaust survivors, to begin next year (and gradually grow). I couldn't believe this when I read it. It's like a government course in shamelessness: let's give our people, who have endured the worst horror ever wrought in history, as little money as possible. Holocaust survivors are old, so let's start next year, since progressively more are dying every year. Then, let's not give a lump sum, but again - a monthly stipend, so we can stop as soon as those costly survivors drop off. As if that's not enough, let's make that monthly sum the price of, well, nothing. Sure, we'll increase the amount as time goes on - once virtually none of them are left.
Of course, Olmert's office describes this is as somehow having righted an historical injustice, patting themselves on the back like this has been a major achievement. Said Olmert, (I can't believe he's still in power! I can't!) "Survivors living in Israel deserve to live with respect without reaching a state where they can't enjoy a hot meal or a slice of bread [..] over the years nothing has been done to take care of this, and the neglect on the part of past governments won't continue. With us, this [problem] will be taken care of." With $20. starting next year. Bull.
Same with the bread wars. Events conspired to make the price of flour go up. This meant the price of the plain, price-controlled bread was liable to go up as well. Eli Yishai, Minister of Industry, Trade and Labor, immediately started swearing up and down that bread prices won't go up. It's so transparent: He has to say that, purely for votes' sake. No serious discussion, nothing. In the end, of course, the prices went up, because you can only fight simple facts on the ground - transportation costs are not what they were in 1999 - for so long. But no, like a mother pacifying her baby, he has to tell the "people" one thing while whatever has to happen goes ahead anyway. Can't you give the public a little more credit and share some of the considerations? No dilemmas? What, would our tiny little brains explode trying to wrap our heads around notions like, "listen guys, the price of wheat worldwide, has gone up. So has gas. Bread is made of wheat. Bread has to be brought to the store using gas-consuming vehicles. We may have a problem here"?
That's really what it is - the mother pacifying the baby. But we're not babies. I would hope most readers have reached this conclusion long ago, but in case you haven't:
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
"That's the End of That" - by Resident Traveler
Introduction here.
(AKA "The Impossible Dream", AKA "She's a Frecha")
They say every pot has its lid. But whenever I look around:
She's a frecha* - and that's the end of that.
If she's not a frecha, she's a neo-hippie - and that's the end of that.
If she's not a frecha, nor a neo-hippie, she's either the over-driven career type, a scantily-clad, deathly-thin Mars-creature, or a sour-faced urban burnout - and that's the end of that.
If she's not (any of the above), she's not physically attractive enough (hard as I try to overlook it), and that's the end of that.
If she's still not any of the above, she lacks heart. Or any kind of joi d'vivre (joy of life), and that's the end of that. (Lots of these. Lots and lots and lots.)
ISSNAOTA, she's married, or has a long-term boyfriend. She does. Trust me. No "that" to end. (OODLES of these.)
ISSNAOTA, she's got serious emotional baggage from past relationships, can't shake it off - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's "going through a rough period in her life", turning hot and cold at the drop of a hat - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's intensely interested in fashion and/or new-ageism, excessive materialism, hip-hop, smoking or, god help me, "real men" - commanding, go-getting, impulse-driven, egotisitical, insensitive, stubble-faced men - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she simply doesn't know what she wants. I give up! That's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's insecure - which on its own is ok - but expresses said insecurity in an unwillingness to attach to anyone and will string me along like I'm a toy. Once reality finally seeps in - that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's just sort of apathetic. Has no burning interest in something - anything. And for me - that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, are you sure she doesn't have a boyfriend? Thought so. That's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's rabidly anti-religion, anti-Zionist or anti-any form of capitalism, with a major chip on her shoulder, and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's religious. Just a liiittle too religious to give me a chance because, after all, she wants to get married, so why waste her time with someone who isn't her particular micro-stream of orthodoxy? - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA - and we're already talking about something rarer than an incorrupt politician - she doesn't give a damn about music and has no artistic interest (either would be surmountable). For me - that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, did I mention we're talking only about women here? Who are under 40? Without children? WHO LIKE MEN? Thought so. That's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, This is it, I've found her. After years of searching, I've found my one-in-a-million. My holy grail, my lid. I'm ecstatic, and can now preach to my pessimist single friends not to lose heart; that despite all the potential pitfalls, they are out there.
But remember, all this has only been half the equation: she still has to like me. And guess what:
That's the end of that.
* - Frecha: the Israeli equivalent of whatever they call women overly preoccupied with an intensely juvenile fashion sense in your country.
This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
(AKA "The Impossible Dream", AKA "She's a Frecha")
They say every pot has its lid. But whenever I look around:
She's a frecha* - and that's the end of that.
If she's not a frecha, she's a neo-hippie - and that's the end of that.
If she's not a frecha, nor a neo-hippie, she's either the over-driven career type, a scantily-clad, deathly-thin Mars-creature, or a sour-faced urban burnout - and that's the end of that.
If she's not (any of the above), she's not physically attractive enough (hard as I try to overlook it), and that's the end of that.
If she's still not any of the above, she lacks heart. Or any kind of joi d'vivre (joy of life), and that's the end of that. (Lots of these. Lots and lots and lots.)
ISSNAOTA, she's married, or has a long-term boyfriend. She does. Trust me. No "that" to end. (OODLES of these.)
ISSNAOTA, she's got serious emotional baggage from past relationships, can't shake it off - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's "going through a rough period in her life", turning hot and cold at the drop of a hat - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's intensely interested in fashion and/or new-ageism, excessive materialism, hip-hop, smoking or, god help me, "real men" - commanding, go-getting, impulse-driven, egotisitical, insensitive, stubble-faced men - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she simply doesn't know what she wants. I give up! That's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's insecure - which on its own is ok - but expresses said insecurity in an unwillingness to attach to anyone and will string me along like I'm a toy. Once reality finally seeps in - that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's just sort of apathetic. Has no burning interest in something - anything. And for me - that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, are you sure she doesn't have a boyfriend? Thought so. That's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's rabidly anti-religion, anti-Zionist or anti-any form of capitalism, with a major chip on her shoulder, and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, she's religious. Just a liiittle too religious to give me a chance because, after all, she wants to get married, so why waste her time with someone who isn't her particular micro-stream of orthodoxy? - and that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA - and we're already talking about something rarer than an incorrupt politician - she doesn't give a damn about music and has no artistic interest (either would be surmountable). For me - that's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, did I mention we're talking only about women here? Who are under 40? Without children? WHO LIKE MEN? Thought so. That's the end of that.
ISSNAOTA, This is it, I've found her. After years of searching, I've found my one-in-a-million. My holy grail, my lid. I'm ecstatic, and can now preach to my pessimist single friends not to lose heart; that despite all the potential pitfalls, they are out there.
But remember, all this has only been half the equation: she still has to like me. And guess what:
That's the end of that.
* - Frecha: the Israeli equivalent of whatever they call women overly preoccupied with an intensely juvenile fashion sense in your country.
This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
Monday, July 16, 2007
"You're Single? How Come?" (AKA "That's the End of That" - Introduction)
It's moving season, and this time I decided I'd rent on my own (I'm 29, figured it's time). The hunt is thankfully over, but while I was searching, I noticed a pattern: the landlords, in their 50s and 60s, would ask whether I am, indeed, looking just for myself. When I'd answer in the affirmative, they'd give me a cockeyed look and ask, "you're single? Really? How come?" This happened several times...
While I was resisting the temptation to give an answer along the lines of "they ran out of my size at the girlfriend store" or "because I ate them all", they'd usually temper the question with a compliment - "I'm just saying.. good-looking guy like yourself..". Obviously they meant well, but this only underscored the assumption, still somewhat common amongst our parent's generation, that unless something's really wrong with you, the only thing separating the average single and a sustained, happy relationship is merely the decision to have one.
So, to try and properly answer the question, I've cooked up a little song/ditty/prose-poetry piece (not all based on personal experience, it should be noted) called "That's the End of That", which addresses this issue. It's being finalized as we speak (you read?), and I'll put it up in the next few days.
[...and, it's UP!]
Important clarification:
This post has been picked up by the good people over at Israelity, and I'm grateful for it. Looks like I left this somewhat open to interpretation, however, so let me clarify:
This post wasn't an expression of having chosen singledome, but rather of frustration over how impossible it is to find anyone! This should be made abundantly clear with my next post...
While I was resisting the temptation to give an answer along the lines of "they ran out of my size at the girlfriend store" or "because I ate them all", they'd usually temper the question with a compliment - "I'm just saying.. good-looking guy like yourself..". Obviously they meant well, but this only underscored the assumption, still somewhat common amongst our parent's generation, that unless something's really wrong with you, the only thing separating the average single and a sustained, happy relationship is merely the decision to have one.
So, to try and properly answer the question, I've cooked up a little song/ditty/prose-poetry piece (not all based on personal experience, it should be noted) called "That's the End of That", which addresses this issue. It's being finalized as we speak (you read?), and I'll put it up in the next few days.
[...and, it's UP!]
Important clarification:
This post has been picked up by the good people over at Israelity, and I'm grateful for it. Looks like I left this somewhat open to interpretation, however, so let me clarify:
This post wasn't an expression of having chosen singledome, but rather of frustration over how impossible it is to find anyone! This should be made abundantly clear with my next post...
Sunday, July 15, 2007
"I Got a Call From This Number.."
I'm all of 29, but the technological changes my generation has seen make for some strange memories.
Just around a half hour ago, walking home on the same path that's spawned other trips down memory lane, I saw I'd received a call to my cellphone from a number I didn't recognize. Calling back and telling the complete stranger on the other end of the line, "I got a call from this number", I was struck by how naturally this sort of interaction came to me.
I remember not so long ago when the callback service was first offered on our (landline) phones. Cellphones were yet to be seen, and our phones were limited to the only things I could ever imagine they'd do - dial and talk. Games? Call ID? Internet? Third Generation gadgets that run your finances based on self-updating stock-market reports? Science fiction!
Then one day, I could punch/dial a code - using that mysterious "*" sign I had always wondered about - and call the person I had just missed. The first time I had this sort of conversation was incredibly bizarre. "uh..." - what should I say? Describing this random, somehow inherently modern/urban/hyper-something incident was awkward. I was a kid. I knew everyone there was for me to know, and actively calling someone "out there" was an almost transcendent, philosophical experience. Talking to a total stranger - now so natural to us thanks, in part, to the internet - felt like those first radio bursts sent to outer space in search of alien life.
Being young didn't hurt, of course. Everything was new, strange, exciting yet scary, bizarre yet easily digested as the new norm. Growing up parallel to rapid technological innovation makes me wonder how much these sorts of memories are the result of a child's limited world view, and how much our perception today really has been expanded through communication technology.
Just around a half hour ago, walking home on the same path that's spawned other trips down memory lane, I saw I'd received a call to my cellphone from a number I didn't recognize. Calling back and telling the complete stranger on the other end of the line, "I got a call from this number", I was struck by how naturally this sort of interaction came to me.
I remember not so long ago when the callback service was first offered on our (landline) phones. Cellphones were yet to be seen, and our phones were limited to the only things I could ever imagine they'd do - dial and talk. Games? Call ID? Internet? Third Generation gadgets that run your finances based on self-updating stock-market reports? Science fiction!
Then one day, I could punch/dial a code - using that mysterious "*" sign I had always wondered about - and call the person I had just missed. The first time I had this sort of conversation was incredibly bizarre. "uh..." - what should I say? Describing this random, somehow inherently modern/urban/hyper-something incident was awkward. I was a kid. I knew everyone there was for me to know, and actively calling someone "out there" was an almost transcendent, philosophical experience. Talking to a total stranger - now so natural to us thanks, in part, to the internet - felt like those first radio bursts sent to outer space in search of alien life.
Being young didn't hurt, of course. Everything was new, strange, exciting yet scary, bizarre yet easily digested as the new norm. Growing up parallel to rapid technological innovation makes me wonder how much these sorts of memories are the result of a child's limited world view, and how much our perception today really has been expanded through communication technology.
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