Gramma does Dating… or
Maybe NOT.
By Yvonne Sinclair M.A., a.k.a. Nana
In this age, there are a higher percentage of
the population who call themselves (or someone else calls them) seniors. In this age group, dating can open a new and
frightening endeavor.
Dating in the 50’s and 60’s was
much different than dating today. In those days, you found a person at a party,
church, class, or group who looked appealing. You said to yourself, “Self, that
is a person I may want to get to know.” So, you found a way to mosey over and introduce yourself, had your best friend
help with the introduction process, or made eye contact across the room and did
your best flirting move.
We
had all kinds of ideas about how to open the door to love and relationships.
Magazines published a plethora of information on how to meet the perfect
someone, get him/her to notice you, and live happily ever after. After you met the person (literally in person),
you then began the activity of getting to know what this person was all about. Dating meant the
guy showed up for the gal and
took her out. This meant he paid for the
outing, and she looked as good as possible on his arm. Getting to know
someone involved learning the following: what songs you like, what foods you
eat, what interests you in a way of life work, which church you attend, how do
you smell, how do you talk, how you look me in
the eye or not, how you dress, your treatment of others, and most of all, if
you like me.
Today we get to know the
person on paper. By “paper,” I mean the internet: Match.com, Yahoo.com,
Friendfinder.com, EHarmony.com, and on and on and on. Those of us who
dated in the 50’s and 60’s can be a little overwhelmed with this new way of
getting to know someone. First, you will
need to know enough, or know someone who does, about a computer so you can put
up a profile. You will need to decide
just what you want (or do not want) to reveal about yourself. You must
remember: of course the people you will be meeting will also decide what not to
include. You find a nice picture, describe your loved activities, and list your
attributes as a date. Then, the fun
begins.
So, this Gramma decided to do just that. This is
her story.
It was exciting to see
all the men in my age group. Whoopee! This was much better than searching
through months of parties, meetings, classes, etc. I could just click and date.
I began to get responses and messages. They loved my picture, shared similar
interests, or they shared something fabulous about themselves. I had men from
all the way on the other side of the country telling me I was wonderful. Even
one man from the other side of the world
admired my physical self. Wow, what a heady experience this was beginning to
be. As a Gramma, I liked this admiration.
After the first couple
of emails, the sexual innuendos or overt remarks began. Sometimes it happened on the second or even
first email. Hmmmm, do I take this as a compliment? At my age, a sexually
interested male is a good thing. I was a little confused. If I responded to these
statements, at all, they became more overtly sexual. The man on the other side
of the world wanted “other” pictures, and he was interested in women with large
breasts. I had to block him to stop his “interests.” When I questioned the ones
on the other side of the USA, the same theme began to show up. Okay, I can weed
these out, right?
Gramma chose one to meet
for lunch. He seemed like a nice man. He sounded responsible, family oriented,
educated, caring, sensitive, and interesting. So, I drove to the restaurant. I did not want to be picked up. As I parked and walked in, I noticed a man
walking in also. Oops, I could have turned around and left. If this had been
the 50’s, I would not have chosen to flirt with him. No, I was not
afraid or nervous. I was seeing this man in person for the first time. If I had
seen him in person upon our first meeting like we would have in the 50’s, he
would not have been someone I
told myself to get to know. I was polite and still attended lunch with him.
Then I had to decide how to tell him “NOT INTERESTED!” Gramma did not like
this part of the contemporary dating scene.
I was forced back to the
“drawing board” called
internet dating. On my email, I found a new contact with a young man. Yes, I said “young” man. He was about the age of
my children. I politely responded and chatted. He wanted to meet. I asked the
big question: “Why does a much younger man want to meet a Gramma?” Are
you ready? He said he had an affair
with his best friend’s mother when he was in high school, and she was a red head. He
has been interested in older red-haired women ever since. Oh yea, movin’ on.
It continued…
-Over coffee, one man told me about throwing out
all of his ex-wife’s canning jars without her
knowing. Now I like to can things and could not imagine anyone being this cold.
This was one thing he had decided to leave out of his profile information. It
was a deal breaker for me.
-The next man wrote wonderful poetry to me, and
I really wanted to meet him. We agreed to have lunch together. Over lunch, he
told me about the stepchildren he still had in his life. They either lived with him, or he supported
them. One was a drug addict, one was a
felon, and the other just liked to ask for things. I didn’t need any people
like that in my life, so I moved on.
-There were some men who communicated from work
and did not seem to want to meet evenings or weekends, just during the workday.
“MARRIED” was the
big red sign that came up on those guys.
-I met one man for lunch on a workday, and we
sat by the river for a while in the afternoon. My email was on his computer,
and his “girlfriend” (of several years) contacted me with questions. He
had not mentioned he was in a relationship and lived with her. Yep, movin’ on…
-Oh, I almost forgot about the man I met in a
small town near me for dinner. It was cold, and when he walked me to my car and
tried to convince me to meet again, his nose ran and dripped off his beard. I
swear, this is the truth.
-Finally, there is one I am not too proud of.
There was a nice looking picture of him in his profile. He was standing behind
a kitchen bar, and he was resting his hands on top (the bar hid most of his
body). I arranged to meet him for lunch in the same small town. I arrived early
and walked around town until the lunch date time arrived. I noticed a very
large man walking around, too. I don’t mean he was large like tall. When
I realized he was my lunch date, I quietly stole away in my little red chariot.
Yep, “click of the mouse.” I am not proud of that one.
I joined a new dating
service. This service included going to an interview, providing a list with “have
to haves” and “don’t wants,” and being sent on lunch dates. I asked for someone with
style, among other things. My first lunch date appeared to be in his 80’s. This
would not have been a bad thing, except this was way out of the age range I had requested. The deal breaker was
that his “style” was from the 70’s, and we were in the 2000’s. I am sure he
had not shopped for new duds since the 70’s.
So much for someone weeding out the pack for me…
Gramma eventually found
a special relationship match. He was a little different because he only wore
short pants and shaved his head except for a que (you know, the little tail
thing at the back that is supposed to be used to yank you into heaven). I could
overlook these minor flaws. They weren’t
deal breakers. He cooked, had his own home, was involved and respected in the
community, had an admirable employment history, and remained involved in his
family. Long story short: he did not like my questions about his sudden lack of
communication after nine months into our relationship. He broke up with me over the internet. The
action seemed to be a little appropriate since we met over the internet, but
the mouse-clicking felt quite rude.
Not to be daunted, this
Gramma jumped right back into the choosing and loosing. Yep, the next one was not
quite as different, had a history not quite as favorable, but he still remained
involved with family. After many months of spending weekends together and
talking about “moving in,” I came home to find most of his “things” (the things that meant something to him) gone. I
call him “Disappearing Don.” Disappearing Don did reappear a year later at
Christmas time, and he asked for a visit.
He explained he felt he had made a mistake when he left. When I did not
accept his offer, I was greeted the next morning with an email picture showing a part of his anatomy not
fit for the internet.
Don’t get me wrong,
the man was not always the “breaker upper.” This Gramma did some amount of
rejecting the guys. It is just too easy in this internet dating era to click the mouse and be done, to not respond to email
and be saved the job of saying “no,” or to block an email address instead of sucking it
up and facing him/her. After becoming an “experienced” internet dater, I
adopted a modus operands. In the beginning of the “relationship,” I would ask for an agreement that
if either one of us wanted out, we would talk in person. Some agreed to the
arrangement and some ran. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it did not. It was
my way of putting a little 50’s back into the internet dating process.
In the old days, we had
to face the person. We had to, at least, have a tone of voice as to why this
was not working. He/she had the opportunity to ask why. Of course the old, “It’s not you, it’s
me” was our way of clicking the mouse, but there was not blocking email addresses or just not responding. Usually
there were enough mutual acquaintances to report to each of you about the
other. Closure was possible. Clicking the mouse leaves whole lot of empty air
space with a whole lot of unanswered questions. Questions may include: what was
it that was not acceptable about me? Was it timing? Was it something I said, something
I wore, or something I did or did not do?
The whole reason for this Gramma’s story is to let
the older generation know that dating has definitely changed. If you are thinking of leaving your spouse for the
great dating scene, think again. I also want to inform the younger generation
and those who rely on internet to meet, communicate, and/or woo (now there is
an old dating word) the love of his/her life, that things can be different. I
want to tell all, don’t click the mouse, please. Don’t just disappear. Have the moxy to
face the person and talk about the reason it does not work for you. Give the
other person the respect of caring enough to communicate. You will respect
yourself for taking the time and
effort to allow the other person closure.
And this Gramma lives
happily ever after… I know, this is not a definitive end of story. What is more
important than my end of the story is your end of story. Be careful. It can be
wicked out there!
©Copyright 2011 by Yvonne Sinclair M.A., MFCC. All Rights Reserved. All material is owned and protected. Reproduction without the express written consent of the author is forbidden.
