I am sure that all of you are aware that Karen my wife for 53 years passed away in January. While I miss her very much, I also understand that she couldn't stay here any longer. So here I am rattling around in this house a bit like a rock in a tin can. I had great support from all my friends, and the special ones that I call "my little mothers". My phone rang every day and many times in those days from perceptive friends that knew that I needed to not forget that life actually does go on. To all of those, I thank and love you more than I can express. Its a bit difficult to decide whether to finish typing that sentence, or wipe my runny nose and dripping eyes. In any case, I am better with the time and the increasingly better spring days. I would like to share with you the quixotic reality of dating at 73.
The first thing that one sees in their friends eyes when the subject is raised is either, "Good for you", or a couple of blinks, and you know they are thinking "damn, that didn't take long". I even questioned my motives as well. I realized that I wanted the same easy relationship that Karen and I had. Not a replacement for Karen, but the same kind of relationship.
Well, bars and social opportunities being what they are when you live in an area that you only have two neighbors. One at 3 miles, the other at 25, can be a little slow. So its off to the dating sites. Match dot com was the obvious choice. Signed up for 6 months. It just might not be all that easy to find a woman that would like to move to a zip code that only gets mail three times a week.
I don't know if any of you elderly folk have ever successfully taken a selfie or not, but I found it to be a bit harder than I thought it would be. First you have to learn how to reduce all those wrinkles and frown lines, not to mention holding the damn phone straight, and all at the same time. Even if I could find someone to take it for me, I would be entirely too mortified to do so.
So I cobbled together what I felt would be a suitable representation of who I thought I was without making it sound too bad, but trying to put a bit of shine on it as well, and began waiting for all the offers to come rolling in.
Next I put in a "search" for women 65 to 75 within 300 miles. 2400 pictures popped up. Most of them seemed to want to "go to the Super Bowl" or "Change someones life for the better." I decided that these were probably canned answers for those like me who were totally dumbfounded when asked to "describe yourself". What I did find that seemed to be a common theme, was that all these women had some sort of College degree. I am not sure that you will quite understand, but to me that information was a lot like the sound of a stick breaking behind you in totally dark woods at night. You must understand that in my time here on earth, those well educated, well meaning people have been the main obstacle to what I most wanted to do. Most of them seem to want to tell the rest of us, the unwashed, what to do and how to live. Then the rest of the prospects wanted to unfold their wings and see the world. Ain't happening!
So I decided that perhaps I might be better off with a class of ladies that were a bit more down to earth. I joined Farmers Only. This one gave me a lot more responses, but I noticed a new theme running through this one. All of them were loaded down with pets and horses and most wanted Ranchers for husbands, which lead me to believe that they were living in fairy tale land as well. Most of those poor guys work till they die, as well as all day long. My answer of "I am not a rancher, but I know of a couple, I would be glad to introduce you" didn't seem to get much response. Then there are those who put a picture of their horse, truck, dog or like one, a prize bull. Discretion got the best of me so I wrote to her and told her that I thought the Bull was pretty handsome, but I was really looking for a heifer. She didn't bother to reply? Then there was the Militia type, that I finally had to wish her luck in finding some one who would fit her.
The next was a category that I still haven't figured out. The one thing that they all have in common is their birthday "sign". At first it was all Aeries, now we are on to Taurus. The first I decided was air heads that either thought I could easily be parted from my pittance of a retirement. Now it seems it is veering into the area of "Cow shit". Below is an example.
I have tried all the standard come on's that generally pulls in unsuspecting telemarketers, but nothing yet has come of it. Such as- "If you are looking for a 73 year old fart, here I am"! or "Baby you look good to me tonight"! I guess I am going to have to work on my delivery. All of these have just one "soft porn" picture, with the only statement of "looking for a man from 30 to 99 years old." I'll keep trying I should be able to find a response that will get one to commit herself, sooner or later.
Perhaps the most amusing thing that happened to me was at Karen's enshrinement to the "Wall of Remembrance" in Boise. I had two friends from NW Oregon that Karen and I had helped sponsor in falconry and a friend from Burns that had also been sponsored by us. A lady friend that we had known since the 80's was also up from Ca. for the occasion. They had all gathered at the house prior to the ceremony, and we all traveled there from home.
After the ceremony there was a dinner with speakers from the falconry world. Each inductee's family had two tables for all their guests. I noticed an older lady sitting alone at a table, so I went over to invite her to sit with us. She was either late 60's or 70's, walking with a cane, and the biggest false eye lashes that I had ever saw. They sort of resembled the Black widows that like to nest on my hangar doors. After my initial shock, I kind of liked them. It was sort of easier to think of them as pets. Linda, from Ca, immediately perked up and I could see the devil within her eyes come awake. That is not to say that she was mean, just mischievous. So Linda asked her why she came to the function? She looked at me and said " I'm looking for a husband, and I want him to be a falconer". I smiled and looked at Pat and Joyce. Both of their eyes popped open as though someone had pinched them on the butt, and then just as quick the eyes narrowed. At that moment I realized that if I ever wanted to get laid, I had better leave those two at home.
