Just a Note Before I Go

It would be hard to beat my last vacation, jetting off from Louis Armstrong International Airport after dumping the Postman at Jazz Fest. But as I prepare to leave for a week of camping on the sodden Maine coastline, in what weathermen are calling the coldest, wettest June in 100 years of record keeping, I am thinking of giving up vacation permanently and saving myself the money and frustration.

 

That being said, my Subaru is packed and I've bought new rain coats for me and my daughter. I also bought a portable DVD player, cards, dice and copious amounts of alcohol. I'm ready!

 

But before I go, an update on the dating scene. Alas, Lawrence of Acadia was a bust, just like you all warned me he would be. Why oh why do I fall for someone with great language skills again and again?

 

Speaking of which, here are recent photos of Machine Gun Man, who is currently working in San Francisco. He has brought his Craigslist tactics with him to the West Coast. "Women keep thanking me for not being gay," he tells me. He doesn't look bad, except for the speedo. If only he could keep his mouth shut.

 

But back to Lawrence. Nice guy, actually a great day together, but he is 3 inches shorter and much balder than advertised. Staring down at the top of his shiny pate most of the day, I realized that height is definitely a deal breaker for me. We went on a 15 mile bike ride along the Maine coast. Fortunately I am very fit and was able to keep up but I kept thinking that he did not really vette this point with me much. I am imagining a less rugged date staggering back to the parking lot in kitten heels after just 2 or 3 miles. Not me! 

 

It wasn't just the physical appearance that did him in. He told me about his job aspirations. It is to become a permanent substitute teacher at a local school. How's that for climbing the corporate ladder. What, was the temp agency out of gigs? When we pedaled by a strawberry field being picked by itinerant workers, he said, "I've done that!" He just got his own apartment 3 weeks ago. Prior to that, he was "in a house with other people." I didn't ask what that meant - just pedaled faster to get back to my car.

 

Meanwhile, the Kavorka is strong with me. When breaking down my PA system after a gig last weekend, the cook at the restaurant carried out my equipment to my car for me then asked for my number. I was as surprised as he was when I gave it to him, "REALLY? Wow!" he said, as he dialed my number from his cell to make sure it was real. I will need to find a way out of this one as I am back playing at this tavern next month.

 

So off for a week without a computer and little cell phone reception. That should keep me out of trouble.

change to our regularly scheduled programming

The problem with having multiple personality disorder is that you sometimes get confused. So I'd like to apologize to those of you who, logging in to read about my latest dating disasters, instead read my work-related blog.

I got a call from a co-worker and loyal reader of this blog asking if I had truly given up on dating and was reverting this blog into a mouth piece for work.

I almost dropped the phone in my hurry to log on to make sure that I hadn't inadvertently posted my personal life on my company website and Facebook page.

Thankfully that wasn't the case. I actually had posted the story to BOTH personal and professional blog, but had only linked up the professional one. Thank GOD.

And while the tubing park going in at my place of employment will be a slippery slope, it isn't nearly as slippery as the foibles of dating after 40.

Nicotine

I was just checking my email when I noticed this message from a dating site I no longer frequent. I couldn't help myself. I checked him out. This is not quite as good as Machine Gun Man's profile and emails but he is a close second. Below is his email to me. I just shot him a note back so we'll see what happens. Don't worry, I won't cancel the wine dinner no matter what happens. :)

 

This is bachelor #2. Etc., etc.

I know it can be a long way from the booming metropolis AND cultural mecca of Bangor to northern NH- in fact one could almost say you can't get theuh from heuh. But I'm a thoroughly desperate man! Just kidding. Sort of.

My profile photo stinks, and I apologize for that. Ihave lost 15 pounds since then, but I didn't really climb Katahdin - I had my head photoshopped onto a photo of Dick Cheney on top of Katahdin. But other than that my profile is almost entirely honest.

I'm trying to get a better photo on to my profile, but my technological capabilities are roughly the equal of those of your average neolithic man. I figure the less time I spend on computers the better off I'll be.

In any event, you said you love the outdoors, and few things give me as much pleasure as hiking, backpacking and camping...once the black flies have all died and gone to hell where they belong.

I love hiking on the AT, and one of these days, maybe this summer, I'm going to finally get off my lazy white butt and do the 100-mile wilderness right here in the great state of Maine. I know a place here in Maine - Caratunk, to be precise - where one can hike to one's heart's content, get a pint of good beer and sit in a big outdoor hot tub. That, in October, is sheer heaven.

But that's enough for now. I hope this message finds you in good health and good spirits, and if I don't hear from you I wish you the best of luck with your search.

Take care, Lawrence (of Acadia)

Here is my member profile:

Wicked Cunnin' Mainuh

Greetings! It is sunny and 70 degrees here in Bangor, Maine, and I am absolutely dying to get outside and enjoy this fabulous weather, so this might be a little briefer and less witty than it might normally be. I recently moved to Bangor, and I offer no excuses for what might seem to some an act of sheer lunacy. Hey, if it's good enough for Paul Bunyan and a blue ox, it's good enough for me!

I like to hike; camp; swim; travel; read; ski; snorkel; talk politics, sports and history; write; and speak foreign languages. I enjoy going to movies; eating out; eating in; watching (a moderate amount of) sports; and drinking (a moderate amount of) beer. I like to play with kids, especially my own (he's nine years old and lives with his mom in Montville, Maine), and I like to play with and walk dogs.

I am fairly political, and I'm a lefty, so it probably wouldn't work with a conservative, a reactionary, a neofascist, or even a good, old-fashioned fascist.

I've traveled a fair amount in these here United States - 47 of them - and in Canada, Latin America, Europe and Africa; and I've lived in Latin America and Europe.

I love kids, and animals, so if you have any, that would be no problem. If you write I will write back - how's that for a deal? My father and I have been corresponding weekly for 33 years, so I am capable of writing!

In any event, I wish you luck with your search.

Sideways

I think with the departure of The Postman, including the self-immolation of my vacation and the resultant $235 charge from JetBlue for exiting stage left, I am officially Burnt Out on Dating. I know, I know, I have said it before. But this time, I mean it. I don't even crave it. The thought of going on one more bad date exhausts me. I tried it one last time about a week ago. Much like a life-long smoker might take a puff on a discarded butt months after quitting, I went out with a not-very-promising suspect for dinner.

He looked like he was once a good looking man. But at whatever his age is now, clearly not the age he claimed to be, he was at best worn around the edges. The discussion over dinner about his not one but two forms of Hepatitis did not help. I am not judgemental about people. This alone would not rule him out. But he kept saying over dinner, "I wish I could have a drink but my liver couldn't take it!" Yeah, I am way too much at the top of my game to go down this road.

So instead I sent the email excerpted below to a select group of gal pals (sorry Levent). I can only hope the bottle of wine will act like the uncorking of a genie from the bottle. As it says in The Secret, "Your Wish is My Command."

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When I got divorced 4+ years ago, I treated myself to a trip to Italy. It was truly the most fantastic vacation of my life. Part of my trip included a tour of a vineyard and winery where I bought some of the most incredible Italian wine I have ever enjoyed.

I saved one bottle - possibly the most expensive bottle of wine I have ever bought. It was about 70 Euros 4 years ago so you do the math. I vowed to save that bottle to share with the perfect man who undoubtedly would come into my life in short order. After all, this whole divorce thing is going to be FUN! It's going to be like going to DISNEY WORLD! Why, it should have only been a matter of weeks before someone rode in on that white horse, corkscrew in hand, to uncork both the wine and my happy ending.

As I recently eyed the dusty bottle in the sideboard of my dining room, I sighed and wondered if I would have a chance to enjoy this wine before it turned to vinegar. How long can you keep a bottle of wine like that, anyway?

Then, a thought occurred to me. There is not much point in waiting for some stupid guy to come along to bring me happiness. One of the unintended happy outcomes of my dating disasters and delights of the last few years has been the support, laughter and shared stories with you all. So fuck it, I said to myself. I'm going to host a dinner party for the girl friends who have been so supportive.

And we're going to open that bottle of wine and toast to what really matters - friendship through thick and thin.

And this is just for you. No stupid men allowed. :)

And for those of you who will hem and haw and wonder what family, work or significant-other commitments you might have on tap preventing you from coming, I would challenge you to ditch them because this is going to be a good one.

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So far there are 5 of us attending. Two regrets who are ironically enough going to WEDDINGS the date of the dinner. And one who is going to her husband's father's early father's day fete (hello - did you read the part about ditching your husband this once?). Have fun with the in-laws!

This blog photo is of me and my girlfriends from Italy. We drank Limoncello in the wood-fire hot tub outside our villa. I can only hope the dinner party in Madison is half as much fun.