It’s the Time of Year When the World Falls in Love
Ah, that glorious time of the year between Christmas and New Year’s Day when nothing really happens other than recovering from a food coma hangover and gazing out on the freshly fallen snow. You’ve got a good Thomas Pynchon book in hand, of – say – 40,000 pages and a warm, cozy fire to sit beside. Pity the young people working in a ski resort, by contrast, who wipe themselves off the floor each morning and prepare for another 18-hour day with brain dead tourists. On a good Christmas week, you can make a couple thousand in wages and tips by working two jobs, and actually be able to pay your rent and eat something other than ramen noodles twice a day in January. I didn’t work too many double shifts, but I was usually cheerful in my delirium, as I recall. As one of the few Jewish ski instructors, I volunteered to work on Christmas Day and got to sing endless Hanukkah songs with the clients, who were invariably Jewish too. “OH, dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, I made it out of clay; OH, dreidel, dreidel, dreidel, oh dreidel I shall play!”
Now, I wander the streets of this lovely Northern California town far from the slopes and stare in wonder at the nearly empty sidewalks and deserted streets. Here and there, a couple of college students home for vacation, hold hands and kiss discreetly while waiting for the light to change. AH, to be young and in love, I dream. It’s that time of year. No one writes songs about being old and in love because it’s never happened. Not exactly true, of course, but I rarely see an old couple holding hands and kissing on the corner. I did see an old couple holding hands but only to keep each other from falling over. Adding a kiss would have been a disaster, even if they had kept their eyes open.
What’s that Oscar Wilde quote: “Marriage is the triumph of imagination over intelligence. Second marriage is the triumph of hope over experience?” Having been married two and a half times, I can only add that anyone still trying after two marriages deserves everything they get. It parallels another fitting quote from my experience: “those who can, do; those who can’t, teach; and those who can’t teach, teach gym [or drama, in my case].” The last relationship I had, after the last half-assed attempt at monogamy, I announced that we would be together until the end. My partner sighed in passionate agreement, not realizing that I was grateful I would die before we had time to break up. And then COVID came along and here I am with no relationship and still living!
But old men are not empty, loveless husks. We have desires and a need for friendship like everyone else. We’re just resigned to finding it with our stuffed animal collection. Bear and I have great conversations and he laughs at all my jokes. He’s the perfect improv partner because he always says EXACTLY what I was expecting. We make a great team.
It takes real courage to explore an emotional relationship once you’ve reached a certain age. For one thing, body parts are always misbehaving: hair grows where it’s not supposed to; too many areas are soft when they should be hard, or at least firm. Then there’s that old man odor that must be scrubbed off with exfoliants because it’s resistant to soap and water. Even beyond the cosmetics of a relationship, there’s the reluctance to become vulnerable with another human. Even if we haven’t completely lost hope or imagination, to borrow from Wilde, we carry around a certain degree of skepticism (except when it comes to the offer of financial support from a Nigerian bank). Is computer dating still something old people can do? Or is there an eligibility age limit beyond which you’re just asking to be a depositor in the Nigerian bank? I’ve been looking to give something away on CraigsList and I feel like I’m the target for every scammer in the Bay Area. Looking for a date seems like a good way to paint a bullseye on my chest and ask for a quick and painless breakup before the introduction. If you’ve ever seen or heard of the trendy musical of a few years ago (“I Love You, You’re Perfect, Now Change”) there’s a relationship scene between two people meeting up for a computer date. Both are busy and successful metrosexuals so rather than actually dating, they line up their phone calendars and schedule all the events for their relationship history: anxious introductions; first kiss; first sleepover; first fight; first reconciliation; tearful goodbye; and wistful reunion. It’s got all the components and none of the drama. Or maybe just stick to practicing your standup routine with the bear.
