Sunday, November 29, 2009

LOVESEAT DUMPERS OF THE WORLD, UNITE AND TAKE OVER



Dear Nice People Who Dumped The Loveseat,

That was very nice of you. I realize that the thing is pretty worn out, but I'm from the world of punk culture, as well as a deranged loner, so it fits my personality perfectly.

For all intents and purposes, it is worn but not torn (sorta like one of my leather jackets that I own and love, and sitting in it feels the same way). It has a large hole beneath (on its floor area), but I don't anticipate to have Martha Stewart or anyone turning it upside down and criticizing its imperfection.

I have performed a thorough examination, as well as a decent fumigation, cleaning, and EPA-approved toxic substance testing, and have determined this piece of well used furniture to now be odor, critter and disease free. Hopefully no crimes which involve nothing above recreational controlled substance abuse have been committed on this loveseat, and besides a rumpled up tissue, I have found nothing in the nature of hypodermic needles, used condoms, etc. within its crevices.

So once again, thank you very much for the discarded furniture which apparently you couldn't even give away on Craigslist, let alone get Sally's Army or Goody's to take as a donation. I appreciate this accidental late birthday present immensely. Now all I need to do is rearrange the stuff in my cramped lil' living room and I'm rockin'.

Grazie,
MP

Thursday, November 26, 2009

THE PERSISTENT QUESTION




Today, I realized that I have a persistent question running through my head of late.

The question keeps repeating, "What am I doing here?"

And the answer keeps echoing, "I don't know."

I hate when that happens.

And by the way, wiseass, as far as if I belong here or not, define "belong".

Monday, November 09, 2009

ONLINE PERSONALS. WELL, THAT WAS AN EXERCISE IN FUTILITY.


Something that makes me feel wanted in this world is the fact that a lot of people ask me for advice and/or facts about various subjects, in subjects as varied as computers, relationships, showbiz, politics and all kindsa shit. I appreciate when people consult me like that, as it makes me feel not only flattered but also needed, in a sort of Frank Capra movie-like, traditionally hokey kind of way.

Of course, I rely on the honest advice of others as well. Lately, I’ve been starting to feel like my antisocial tendencies have been pulling me overboard. Especially in the area of my relationships with women, or should I say, lack thereof.

I don’t drink so going out to bars is usually not the best Plan A. Coffeehouses are an occasional option for me but I’ve always found it absurd to just walk up to a woman and strike up a conversation anyway. The odds are good that they’re already in some sort of a relationship. Also, a lot of my female friends are always either joking or complaining about how stupid they think guys like that are.

So, encouraged by the advice of a couple of my friends, I took the plunge and did something that I had previously pledged to myself never to do again: I posted online personal ads.

About a decade back, I had placed an ad online and got a reply from someone with whom I had actually ended up dating over a short period of time. Things were fine at first but then became sour pretty quickly. In retrospect, it was a bad idea to get together in the first place. She lived a lot further away than I had “required” in my ad and I decided to accept it. Problem Number One. Problem Number Two was that we simply had nothing in common, and as a result, the chemistry was just never there.

Ah, well, guess I can try one more time, and this time stick to my guns as far as what I wanted in a potential match.

I chose two sites: Yahoo Personals, because I was already set up as a member on Yahoo and it was free to place and look at ads, and eHarmony because it was linked through my cable provider and, as luck would have it, eHarmony was having a promotion where I could place an ad and, in eHarmony-speak, “communicate” with potential matches for free for a short period of time.

On Yahoo, I wrote a profile that laid it on the line as far as my preferences and requirements were concerned. Yes, it was pretty long and read more like an essay, but at least I was trying to be as upfront and honest as possible.



Here is the text of my Yahoo profile:

"I'm not a bad guy, and like people, but really don't do the social thing very well. I pretty much work, mess with recording my own music, read and fight insomnia. It's been advised that I need to get out more often. No, I don't have a therapist.

I like Midtown (where I live) and I'm looking for somebody nice in the neighborhood to hang out with for coffee and to discuss stuff like sociocultural manipulation of the world's population, so if you're into cultural studies, media criticism and the like, you've got someone here who can probably keep up with you.

Nope, I don't drive or own a car, mostly because I don't have to. I live and work in Midtown, and can get everything I need right around here. Ideally you are in the same situation and we can be backward auto-free Luddites together. Otherwise, thanks for reading this far. Bye.

I'm much more comfortable in a larger city, having been born and raised in one. I like to hop the light rail to the Amtrak to SF. You perhaps like to do that as well, if you've lived in Midtown for some time. That's a good example of something we can maybe do together in time.

I'm highly literate and worldly for an uneducated heathen and future dead peasant. I'm probably further to the left than you are, but that minority who go further or majority who aren't Dittoheads or Palin clones are always quite welcome. I don't drink, don't smoke, and don't take part in any 12 step or other program whatsoever. Also not involved in any organized religion, though interested in philosophical, metaphysical and sociopolitical stuff without going all New Agey. Musically, I like anything from punk to Motown to garage to Tom Waits to Ofra Haza to the Clash to yougetthepictureIhope. For movies, if it's playing at the Tower or Crest you might see me in line buying a ticket. I'm figuring that out of the 3 or 4 women who possibly exist on the planet who would be compatible with me, one may possibly live in Midtown. My gut feeling tells me that I am wrong, but I figure that I might as well try just one more time.

I'm not going to go into too much detail about what I expect from you. I like confidence, self-assurance, and a woman with a good, smart sense of humor who isn't afraid of a dose of sarcasm. Do you think that George Carlin was funny? Good, me too. I'm in average-to-pretty-good physical shape and health for my age, so yes, I expect you to be in that zone as well. Hair length, dress, etc. are things that I'm pretty open minded about, especially since I'm bald and casual, but I'm attracted to shapely women regardless of size, style or age. You need to understand that I'm like an English bulldog: I might not look like I'm happy all the time but that doesn't mean I'm in a bad mood. I will be open with my feelings and in return, you will be as well.

I don't have any children, and don't want them. For freak's sakes, I'm 47 years old! Also, if you have children, they are grown up and independent (out of Mom's home with actual jobs), and not thugs. No exceptions.

Oh, and not engaging in a criminal lifestyle at any level is a must. (That includes, of course, trying to scam poor vulnerable geezers like myself through online personals.)

And a special word about Midtown. In Sacramento, the definition of Midtown's borders are sort of a matter of contention, but after 25 years as a resident of Sacramento, I define them as thus: east of 16th Street, south of G Street, north of T Street and west of the freeway overpass by 29th Street. If you are not living in or near that area please don't bother to respond to my ad.

Gimme a click if you're intrigued. Thanks."

My experience with eHarmony was a different world, to say the least. They put you through a grueling interrogation that surpasses the Scientology Personality Test in terms of nosy anal retentiveness. Interestingly, my results were sort of accurate. As an example, the evaluation stated that I have no problem being alone for long periods of time, and see that situation as a creative advantage. True dat. Hmmm, perhaps these test results may be giving me a chance to meet someone compatible after all.

Nah brah.

My stay on eHarmony lasted about one day, probably less than 24 hours. I was admittedly surprised to find seven “matches” in my email the morning after I had signed up. The matches were not even close to anyone I would be compatible with, and most of them seemed to be the types who would cross the street if they saw me walking up in the opposite direction. Plus, of course, they were all out of the ‘hood.

Here was my kiss off letter to eHarmony that was requested by them as “Feedback”:

"This was a horrible experience. My matches have nothing in common with me and most of them have children (I do not have or want them, and am looking for someone without them as well).

Also, your geographic distance is too far for my preference (minimum of 30 miles from my home). Midtown Sacramento is very densely populated, as are the areas directly bordering the neighborhood. I would want to meet someone within five miles of home at best. Women from the 'burbs tend not to share my interests, so they are a waste of my time to communicate with.

In short, I find this site to be completely useless. Perhaps you should concentrate your resources more on expanding your compatibility options and less on psychological games in order to gain and retain customers. Thanks."


The Yahoo experience was much longer but just as futile. True, I was almost brutally honest in my profile. Nevertheless, I was clear and lucid enough to get some sort of reasonable response.

Of course that didn’t happen. The only women who contacted me (that is, if all of them really were women) ran the gamut from Textbook Russian Scams to Downright Fuckin’ Scary. Okay, there was one seemingly remote possibility who looked really pretty, listed herself as “Artistic / Musical / Writer” and gave me a brief hello, but she was in South Carolina and apparently didn’t even read my profile. And even then, she was a Christian who attended services, so perhaps she was a well-written Textbook Russian Scam. Bzzzt. Thanks for playing.

(And on a side note, if you see a personal from a woman that says, among other things, the direct quote “…I always say that I'm looking for someone who will enhance my life, and not take anything away…” you know what you’re dealing with. I must have seen that little adage about sixteen times.)

Today, I deleted my Yahoo Personals profile. No, I will not try Craigslist next. Stupidly, I did respond to an ad there that looked promising and should have known better. No reply, of course. Oh well, sometimes harsh reality needs to be considered and admitted.

That’s it. I’m through.

I’ve got to face facts. I’m destined to be alone for the rest of my life.

There are worse things to be confronted with as a permanent condition. I could have missing limbs, or maybe a long-term painful terminal illness. I could have fucked up real good and been incarcerated to live out my remaining years in a day-to-day lifestyle somewhat resembling that of Edmond Burke.

Or worse yet, I could have ended up in a miserable relationship just because I did not want to be alone. That would be infinite times worse than simply being by myself.

No, I need to man up and face the truth. I’m just not a match for anyone. I’m too antisocial and isolated, and yeah maybe I am just too old (and on top of that, perceived by women as lame) to “deserve” to be with anyone.

I could rationalize, reason, analyze and excuse myself into oblivion, but nothing is going to change the reality of the situation. I can’t change. Not even for sex. A lot of guys can bullshit to maintain a sex life, and a lot of women knowingly just go along with it for various reasons, but I can’t play that game.

Besides, I’ve gone through enough periods of my adult life where I’ve been celibate for years on end (I’m on a pretty good stretch right now). That’s just the way it’s been. I can’t really change anything about that. It’s not because I lack interest in these things, actually it’s quite the opposite. There are not really any other activities that keep my interest as much when the opportunity is there. However, as easily as I could list “sex” in the “Hobbies” section of a questionnaire, really, going without it isn’t so bad.

So why fight it? In a fitting coincidence, as I’m typing this, Saint Jonathan, the Patron Saint of Modern Love, just got on my stereo with some words of wisdom:

Well I won't pretend I like a girl if I really don't
And act like she's great when she makes me feel appalled
All I want is a girl that I care about
Or I want nothing at all.

Well I don't want just a girl to fool around with
Well I don't want just a girl to ball
What I want is a girl that I care about
Or I want nothing at all.

Well I don't want some cocaine sniffing triumph in the bar
Well I don't want a triumph in the car
I don't want to make a rich girl crawl
What I want is a girl that I care about
Or I want no one at all.


Good enough for me.