It Was The Best Of Times

I asked a friend for criticism of…well, of me. (Although I did use a proxy so she could be direct without being personal.)

What she said took a while to sink in, but it’s a useful thought: We like storytellers. It seems that our brains feed on a cogent narrative and – importantly – enjoy an element of the unexpected.

Create the unexpected within the boundaries of a well-told adventure.

That sounds like a way to live a life to me, not to mention making yourself of interest to others.

Advertising Age

Dating is about selling yourself.

Dating is about a pitch to a stranger – most likely – without knowing anything about them.

Dating is nuts.

But here’s the thing; we really do not have a better way. Yes, in some cultures the arrangement of marriage exists. Sure, if you’re the member of a royal family in 1760 your marriage might be arranged. Quiet possibly you might restrict yourself to relationships with specific familiar groups. (Looking at  you Hollywood.)

For the rest of us to get what we want, we advertise, market, provide incentives, have specials, give loyalty cards and even discount ourselves.

Like I said, dating is nuts.

Tick Tock

Kiss & Blog first started with an idea my friend Amy had back in 2005. Blogs were new. We spent much of our time together noodling around and talking about dating and finding the right person, so combining the two made sense.

Astonishing to me now is how long ago that is; we are coming up on ten years since that beginning. Frankly, I wasn’t good, but Amy was. She had a way of slicing to the meat of her posts that made her better reading, and gained her a bigger following.

And a following we gathered. Partly because we were an interesting chorus in a universe of similarity, daters found us. That’s the upside of early adoption.

Time has moved on. You’ll see that the blog is a WordPress site now – yay! – and that we’re self-hosted. Most important is my focus. Being 52 and unmarried puts one in a different dating pool than being 42. I can hardly believe it myself, but that’s the opportunity – if I’m having trouble figuring out how to think about being a dater at my age, others are too.

Match Me, Dammit.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker,
Make me a match,
Find me a find,
catch me a catch
Matchmaker, Matchmaker
Look through your book,
And make me a perfect match*

Here’s what a matchmaker does: The matchmaker meets you. The matchmaker makes an assessment of you. The matchmaker keeps you in mind as he or she idles through her rolodex of other match-seekers. You then receive one or more of the resulting recommendations.

Oh, and at some point you pay money.

You can see the three glaring flaws in this plan, right?

Firstly, who the heck can analyze me – handsome, complicated, adorable, quirky, strong, proud, independent me – in a few minutes?

Secondly, even if you could characterize me accurately, how do you know what kind of woman would be a perfect match?

Thirdly, and most importantly, the entire success of this enterprise (from a customer’s viewpoint) rests on the quality and size of that rolodex. Just how bulky is that thing?

 

* Quoted from “Fiddler on the Roof”. Lyrics by Sheldon Harnick reproduced with thanks.