Men: Some Holiday Thoughts
I’ll keep it short and sweet so I can join in the Christmas cheer and start wrapping some of those gifts and writing those cards.
Living as a single woman in NYC, when it comes to men I often feel like a visitor in a museum – albeit one boasting a great collection. I wander through the halls and am privy to some of the most intelligent, successful and handsome men a woman could ever wish to behold, but I am not allowed to touch, never mind take any of the “artwork” home!! Oh, yes, there is a gift shop on the way out, but it always offers cheap imitations of the real beauty featured in the galleries and – most of the times – only reproductions of the pieces that weren’t so interesting to me anyway.
Because of my work, I am out a few nights every week. I could be out every night, covering some event or other, but I choose to stay home at times, writing and giving myself a break. As much fun as it is to mingle among some of the most wonderful men this earth has to offer, it is somewhat bittersweet for me. I mean, this CBS sitcom actor is just even more charming and sweet in person, that famous designer has become a good friend, the high fashion photographer is funny and bright and taken, and the distinguished author is looking at me as a equal of minds, and wanting something lighter of intellect to date. Get the picture? If not, read on…
There is an abundance of men out there, and when women say to me “I just can’t meet any guys” they are either looking in all the wrong places – like a lesbian ball celebrating same-sex marriages in Philly – or they are phrasing that wrong. What I would say is: “I meet loads of great men, but they are just simply unavailable.” Truth. And I don’t mean taken, with girlfriend and married. I mean, simply not available to me. As most of you know – and I apologize if I might break the myth for some – I am not 23 anymore. So, some of the wonderful men – the generation of men between 20 and 30 have some real sweeties scattered in there, which my generation seems to have been a bit short on honestly – are simply age inappropriate. And with my Italian hospitality instinct, the last thing I want in a relationship is to be the mother figure!
Then, some are gay. But not openly gay, which is wonderfully refreshing to me these days, but “closet” bound… And they aren’t about to admit that even to themselves. The weird behavior of one of the subjects of my interviews, the odd disappearance of my actor friend after I spoke of my need for the truth in life, can all be explained as part of this syndrome. It all has to do with culture, I’ll let you guess which one, and mother issues, again!
Some, of course, are taken. Again, not openly so which would be easily detectable, but emotionally so. They pine for their ex girlfriends, or ex wives, or sometimes their current wives which they just forgot to mention upon meeting a woman. So, they try to get involved with someone new and end up being the worse candidates for a relationship. They run at the slightest hint of problems and disappear for no reason whatsoever…
Then, there are those men who are madly in love with their children. The little wonderful beings are their pride and joy and no woman could ever possibly dream of coming between them. But what they fail to see is that some women, yours truly for one, do not wish to come “between” them, but simply be among them. Another human being with her own share of enthusiasm about life can be the perfect addition to a family nucleus. But I believe that to these men their kids are their possessions. They are like a fancy car, or a big flatscreen TV: something they own and no one should try to touch or take for a ride.
Finally, there are those simply involved guys. Try anyone who doesn’t have any of the issues above, and you’ll understand why they are simply, genuinely taken. And all I can do is be happy for them and hope their women are giving them what they deserve: great love. Because a good man is a great treasure. Trust me, I visit that museum every day!
Happy Holidays Everyone!
Drawing courtesy of Majeak Ann