It's late and I'm really not comfortable tackling my next subject. In the interests of my own personal development, it has to be done.
Most married couples I know would consider me a forty five year old adolescent. As much as I would love to jump on my high horse and disagree with them, I'm not so sure their assessment is far from the truth. Up to this point my dating life has resembled something out of a Seinfeld Episode, complete with colorful stories of my own antics as well as female personality disorders that would fill the pages of even the most comprehensive Abnormal Psychology text. The shelves of the self-help section of Barnes and Noble are filled with titles that cover the subject of the American Male's inability to commit. To me the word "commitment" is something that I am likely to hear in a weekly episode of "Sex and the City."
"Woe is me. I can't get George to commit. "
Believe it or not, when I was in my twenties I never understood why men of mature age didn't commit to the women they were dating. I knew several men who dated absolutely gorgeous women with great careers, yet when the subject of marriage came up they were nowhere to be found.
It's the Uncle Larry Syndrome. Are you puzzled yet ? We all have an Uncle Larry. He was the unmarried friend of your dad who sat across from you at Thanksgiving. Sometimes Uncle Larry would even bring a date to Thanksgiving dinner. Usually it was different gal every year. Uncle Larry's date would almost always be dressed inappropriately in a scantily clad outfit. Your dad would squirm around in his chair uncomfortably while your mom gave him a withering look across the table. Of course Uncle Larry was too stupid to catch on to the fact that your mother was pissed at the whole scene. Larry's date would almost always say or do something that would be, for lack of a better phrase, socially unacceptable. Of course, Larry's date would be too dense to realize that she had committed a giant faux pas. It didn't matter to you though, because Uncle Larry was cool. Besides, how could alligator loafers and a convertible Jag not be cool to a ten year old boy ? As far as I was concerned, Uncle Larry was the man.
At forty five years old, I am starting to think that Uncle Larry may be my alter ego. Recently I was on a date and the young lady asked me if I told my parents about her. As I put my cocktail down, I gave her a blank stare. I refrained from my usual response and thought about it. Instead of responding like an insensitive jackal, I gave her my canned response.
"Oh, I never talk to my parents about my personal life," which was partly true. Why was the statement partly true? Because I do talk to my parents about my friends, just not the women I date.
Maybe I am smarter than you think. Why would I get my parents hopes up when about a hundred percent of most romantic relationships fail for one reason or another? I know it sounds awful, but statistically it's true. Unless you are married to the same woman for the last fifty years, then statistically you and I are fighting for the top spot. I'm not saying this as a badge of honor. I'm just telling you why I haven't told my parents about you and why I am headed to Barnes and Noble.
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