Tag: self-improvement

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Choosing not to age

The best one I can make

Him: You’re 50?!
Me: Well, 53 as of last week.
Him: I would have put you at 38 or so.
Me: It’s the toupee – people think the hair’s the most important thing but it’s really the glue that matters.
Him: (laughs) Besides good genes, do you do anything special?
Me: (shrugging) I just choose not to age.
Him: How does a guy choose not to age?

The Scenic Fights producers were pretty sweet and posted a nice birthday greeting for me on the YouTube channel.

Didn’t think they would tell the viewers my actual age since I figured they would want people to believe what they wanted to believe but they listed it after all.

What’s wild is that, as of this writing, I have 560 comments on the post, mainly with people either just wishing me well or wishing me well but also not believing that I’m 53.

The thing is that getting chronologically older isn’t a choice but getting biologically older is a choice and it’s one that people make every single day.

Half of it is that, because I was a fat kid, I’ve been watching what I put into my body since I was 12 years old – the same age as Sara’s kid now.

See, you make a choice every single time you pick something to put into your body.

Like when I was in college, in Dickson Hall, I lived with a hippie that refused to have a bagel.

Asked him why and he said, “Because a bagel has 35 grams of carbs and that’s more than my total for the day.”

It was the first time I’d ever heard the word, “carbs” so I went to the library (this was waaaaay before the internet) and got some books and read up on what that meant.

And I was mindful, since that random day, about how many carbs I ate.

Likewise, as a club promoter, I’d often end my nights at a diner on 3rd Avenue called the Around the Clock Diner – it’s long since closed.

Anywho, I remember that I went with some women after event and someone ordered this huge plate of chili cheese fries and I declined to have any.

Some girl: Logan’s always on a diet.
Some other girl: He doesn’t need to be on a diet.
Me: Yeah. That’s because I’m always on a diet.

I was still out with alla my friends.

I was still living the NYC young adult life.

I just was careful with what I let into my body and life.

Still am.

The other half is what we do with the roughly 28,260 days we all get.

I never stopped physically playing.

See, we call it “the gym” as adults, but my kid just asks, “Can I go outside and play?”

When I’m waving sticks and swords around or rolling around with people trying to not get strangled, I’m not really so much doing violence as I’m just…playing.

Like football is crazy violent. It’s also a game. It’s also play.

I chose not to age because I choose to never stop playing, which keeps my mind and body young.

It’s not a chore to go to the gym.

Because it’s not a chore to go play.

It’s the opposite of a chore, in fact. My kid understands that.

Shockingly few of my peers understand that.

Alla that is why getting chronologically old isn’t a choice but getting biologically older is.

We’re choosing with every food choice we make, the life we wanna live down the line.

And it all adds up, like Jacob Marley’s chains.

And like those chains, we wear the bodies we forge in life, bit by bit, cell by cell; we girded it on of our own free-will, and of our own free will, we wear it.

So, I am careful – very careful – with what I wear eat and do.

Because I believe this is the only life we get, so I want it to be the best one I can make it.

Although, on that note, I probably should cut back slightly on all that fiber.

Her: (turning to me) What happened to you in there!? Look at your hair!
Me: (exiting smallest room in my pad) It was an experience.
Her: Yes? Should I be jealous?
Me: No, you’ll always be my number one. (pause) Although that was a number two.
Her: (bursts out laughing) OK, ok. (wipes eyes) OK, you can put that in the blog.

Location: my desk, shooting a short as an experiment
Mood: busy!
Music: This life would just be so easy (Spotify)
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The Elusive Obvious Villain

Turns out, it was me all along

Me: You know what I realized recently?
Her: No, what?
Me: I never really thought of it but, I’m 52, which means that I’m over half-a-century old.
Her: That is how math works, Logan.
Me: (laughing) I’m aware. It’s just one of those elusive obvious things that are obvious once you think about it but completely invisible to you when you don’t.

Years ago, I once told you this apocryphal story about Columbus and how he was able to stand an egg up on one side by itself.

In the end, someone said that it was easy, to which Columbus was said to have replied, “Everything is easy once someone shows you how.”

A more succinct way of putting that it was simply something that was the elusive obvious:

Those things that are stupidly and patently obvious, if you just sat down and thought about it for little bit.

In many ways, this entire blog is fulla the elusive obvious.

Was talking with a buddy of mine the other day – we met in our 20s and he’s a couple of years older than me so he’s now in his mid-50s and I’m catching up.

With my birthday coming up, I’ve been finding myself looking back on my life and realizing a lot of things that shoulda been obvious to me but simply…weren’t.

Me: I’ve reached an age where…you know what I’ve realized?
Him: What?
Me: Looking back, in so many interactions, I was the villain in the story.
Him: I have that – mine were mostly with women.
Me: Some of mine as well. I mentioned that to someone once and she asked if I’d consider calling them to apologize. But what would that do? It’s really just to make me feel better, they probably just are happy that I’ve never reached out to them. Better to just let sleeping dogs lie.

It really is such a wild thing to look back with older, and calmer, eyes and realize that you were the villain in someone’s story.

The thing that’s been bothering me the most, lately, though was that I’d never really realized just how often it was me until only recently.

Yet again, the elusive obvious.

And with most elusive obvious things, once I’ve noticed it, I can’t un-notice it.

Location: The middle of the Atlantic
Mood: It’s tricky
Music: I’ve gone identity mad (Spotify)
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I kinda have high cholesterol

I mean I do, but…

Me: Well, the good news is that I called the doctor like you asked…
Her: OK…and the bad news?
Me: I may have told the office to go fuck themselves.
Her: You understand that this won’t help you get that appointment for your back.
Me: I am not unaware. In my defense, they deserved it. I did apologize to the unfortunate soul that was unlucky enough to pick up the phone.

I’m gonna be – Jesus Christ – 53 in a few weeks.

Up until Alison got sick, I used to always get my annual physical around my birthday but, like most things, that went out the window once she got sick.

Only just got back on track a year or two ago.

Which is a good thing because, as I get older, the things that are falling apart on me is increasing on the daily.

On that note, my cholesterol is now solidly in the “high” category BUT my HDL is pretty high, and my triglycerides are pretty low.

In the past, I’d be on statins now, but research seems to show that, if you have low triglycerides and a high HDL, your chance of getting a cardiac event is pretty low.

According to the American College of Cardiology’s Risk Estimator Plus, despite having a fairly high cholesterol level, my overall risk of getting a heart attack is only 0.6% higher than what they consider “optimal.”

I almost got a heart attack when the doc called me to tell me my test results, but it turns out that he’s just old school and likes to actually chat to his patients on the phone rather than just have his office email results.

Him: Do you eat a lot of red meat?
Me: Well, not particularly, just about…
Him: (interrupting) Try to limit it to once a week – ideally once every two weeks.
Me: OK, I’ll try but…
Him: (interrupting again) You’re a nice guy, I’d like you stick around.
Me: Frankly, I’d like to stick around too.

I wouldn’t say I’m a nice guy – I’m not a jerk but I’m hardly a nice guy either.

Case-in-point, my back is crap again and I tried to make an appointment, but they insisted that I come in for a third consultation – which is ridiculous, as they literally just see me for five minutes.

They screwed up two prior injection visits so with this last phone call, I may have gone went off on the poor soul that picked up the phone and told me that I’d have to get a consultation first before getting an injection.

I did apologize afterwards but I don’t think I’ll be heading back to that office again.

Her: (sighs) Do I need to start making appointments on your behalf?
Me: Evidently.

Honestly, I think that part of the reason that my cholesterol was so high was because I made a four-pound cut of corned beef and cabbage for St. Paddy’s day the night before my tests.

Looks like it’s gonna be a lotta fish and chicken in the Lo House moving forward.

Sigh.

Location: earlier today, Chinatown again – been busy with work
Mood: thoughtful
Music: I don’t want to stay here on my own (Spotify)
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Be different: Listen to new music

Avoiding Stasis

Friend: Honestly, music stopped being good after 2010.
Me: I dunno about that.
Her: There’s literally nothing I can stand on the radio anymore.

In 2015, Spotify looked at its user data and found that people stop listening to new music after the age of 33.

At least in the US.

See, in the UK, where they use something called Deezer, that company discovered that Britons stop listening to new music at 30…and a half.

What adult uses “and a half?”

In any case, my point being that, in nature, there are only three states: Growth, stasis, and decline.

Me?

I keep wanting to put as much (natural) space between me and decline as possible and that means avoiding stasis wherever and whenever possible.

That doesn’t just mean seeing old friends, working out, eating well, and doing some deep thinking.

It also means listening to new music, because, if I don’t, I’m at least in stasis, if not decline.

And I can’t have that.

Not when the kid’s this young.

Music is a unique art form because, unlike, say, a sculpture, which is carved, and then just exists, music is created and has to be played or performed.

But, as you hear it, it can be remembered, heard, and anticipated – you can guess a lyric or beat because music requires a rhythm of some sort – so that it exists in the entirety of time itself, past, present, and future all at once.

Music is profoundly human is because it’s the only artform that only exists entirely in time and disappears once it’s done as if it never existed at all.

Kinda like us.

So, with all due respect to my friend, listen to new music, and fight the stasis.

Him: You’ll come to my talent show? I’m playing XXXX.
Me: I love that song! And of course – have I missed one yet?
Him: No…
Me: Then I wouldn’t worry too much, kiddo.

For the past few years, I’ve put all the music from this blog into this Spotify playlist here, if you want some new tracks on the regular.

Or just keep reading and click on the music links below (I get a few cents if you end up buying the song on Amazon, just fyi).

Location: the bathroom, installing a bidet
Mood: bidet-ed
Music: they say you know when you know (Spotify)
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66 days of nuttiness

All about focus and dedication

Me: Hola! Thanks so much for inviting us, as always. We had a grand time and the kids – especially Sara’s kid, since it was his first time – loved the red envelope portion, LOL.
Annabel: Thanks Logan! It was great seeing you all again. Will never forget [Sara’s son] rejecting a second red envelope!

Went over to Annabel and John’s the other day to celebrate Lunar New Year – also saw my mom and A-MIL but that’s gonna be a post for another time.

We weren’t able to see Annabel last year for new year’s, so it was nice that we went this year, plus it was the first time that Sara’s son went there.

Me: You two should go learn how to make dumplings.
Son: But, I know how to make them!
Me: Then you should be a pro at it. Off to it.

Honestly, they did a pretty good job.

We had a pretty late lunch – where I had THREE large burgers – so we weren’t planning on eating much but the food was so good, I definitely ate a lot more than I intended to.

Sara: I swear you have a wooden leg.
Me: It’s all about focus and dedication, baby.

But everyone had fun and, at the end, the adults all handed out red envelopes to the kids.

Sara’s kid had only gotten red envelopes once before from me and only one envelope, so I think he thought he was only supposed to get one – bless that kid’s heart.

So, he politely declined a second one from Annabel, which they found hilarious.

As did we.

Him: How?
Me: How what?
Him: How do you eat peanut butter and lose weight?

It never occurred to me that I never told you how I eat peanut butter.

Essentially, whenever I have a sweet – most often some sorta homemade baked good by Sara, like a low-carb chocolate chip oatmeal cookie – I will pair that with a cup of coffee with MCT oil (for additional fat), and at least 3-4 HEAPING tablespoons of peanut butter.

I’m usually so full from that that it’s my typical brekkie.

For lunch, it’s either a can of sardines/salmon with some kimchi, some of Sara’s homemade whole wheat sourdough bread with peanut butter or cream cheese, and a cup of matcha, or a repeat of brekkie with peanut butter or 1/3 of a cup of cashews.

Then dinner…well, dinner is when I eat anything and everything, although with lots of veggies.

If I have a huge lunch, then I usually just have peanut butter and something for dinner.

Now, if you want a super easy way to do it as a delicious add-on to whatever you’re doing, try this at least 10 minutes before every meal, but no more than 30:

    • A full glass of water between 8-12 ounces
    • 1-2 heaping tablespoons of peanut/walnut/nut butter

Just doing that should cut your weight substantially for a number of reasons:

    • You’re adding protein, fat, and fiber to your system before your main meal, which will definitely curb your appetite.
    • You’re also literally taking up room in your stomach with the volume of the water and the peanut butter.
    • The sugar sensation of the chocolate/honey also satisfies cravings.
    • As the video I posted in my last entry noted, peanuts/peanut butter takes a lot of energy to digest in general, further taxing your body, in a good way.

It takes about 66 days for something to become a habit, according to a study from The University College London so if you try to do it, do it for at least two months.

Anywho, give it a whirl; I’ve literally never read about this anywhere else ever, but I know that it works because…well, science.

Plus, it’s dirt cheap and if it doesn’t work for you, just stop.

But, yeah, it works.

Location: Chinatown, listening to fireworks and having carbs
Mood: stuffed
Music: I’m on my knees looking for recipes (Spotify)
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Eat more peanut butter, man

Goodbye, Dawson

I was looking at that picture of me back in my early 30s in the last post.

While it’s clear that I’ve aged between then and now, I don’t think that I look like I’ve aged 20 years.

Still, while my face looks older, my body looks…pretty identical.

If anything, I look better now than I did at 25 just because I’ve been so regular with my physical therapy these days.

But exercise is just one of the three sides of the triangle – the other two are genetics and diet.

On genetics, there’s not much you can do there, but I’ve been thinking about diet more than usual lately because of the death of actor James Van Der Beek, who recently passed from stage 3 colorectal cancer.

While I never saw Dawson’s Creek, Alison and I loved Don’t Trust the Bitch in Apartment 23, where he played a version of himself.

If you’ve never seen it, it might be worth a watch.

In any case, on the topic of diet, I’m definitely eating well over a pound of peanut butter a week now.

I know this because I started doing Amazon’s Subscribe and Save with two two-pound jars delivered to me every month, about a year ago, but the kid and I kill them in the first three weeks.

Sara and her son don’t touch the stuff, despite my best efforts, which is terribly disappointing as you’ll read below.

In any case, I regularly have to go to the store to buy two more regular jars to last us the month – check out the size difference below.

Now, that means that I’m eating about 2,650 calories, 225 grams of fat, and 28 grams of fiber a week in peanut butter alone every week

BUT that’s in addition to the regular brekkie, lunch, and dinner that I eat.

And yet, I am slimmer than almost all of my peers, which is precisely what I expected when I first started doing this about 20 years ago.

In fact, I remember distinctly a conversation with someone that rang me outta the blue one day that went something like this:

Her: There is no way you can eat that much peanut butter and not become super fat.
Me: I dunno. I don’t think that the body processes protein, fat, and fiber the same way it does just fat and carbs.
Her: What will you do if you’re wrong?!
Me: (laughing) I dunno…stop?

But I never did.

Because it turned out exactly as I expected it to – I ended up losing weight, increasing lean body mass, and reducing my cholesterol.

Since 2006, I’ve been telling everyone that would listen that nut butters are secret to being slim and in excellent health and I used myself as a test subject for 20 years.

I eat peanut butter because it’s just a lot cheaper than nut butters (yes, I realize it’s a legume).

But, if I was wealthy, I’d be eating walnut butter, probably the best thing on the planet to eat after tinned fish, which I also try to eat regularly.

If anyone wants to gift me an annual stipend of walnut butter, I’m not gonna stop you.

Dunno what gift to get me? Walnut butter.

In any case, I bring this up because I came across this guy below recently, and he backs up the mountain of research that peanuts are a health bomb.

Now, while he talks mainly about whole raw peanuts, I believe – and I’ve got 20 years of real-world practice that supports this – that natural peanut butter essentially provides very similar/identical results.

 

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If you look up pretty much anything to do with colorectal cancer, you’ll see two things show up in every mention: (a) the lack of fiber in modern diets and (b) the ultra-processed nature of the modern American diet.

The regular consumption of nut/peanut butter helps address both those issues; the former directly by injecting fiber into your diet, the latter by simply making you too full to eat much else.

Anywho, just another of my rando thoughts for a rando day.

Him: Whatcha making, papa?
Me: A brown-butter fried peanut butter and banana sandwich.
Him: Is that any good?
Me: Is it any good!?!?! Dude…prepare to have your mind blown…

Location: a dumpling party with zero peanut butter
Mood: stuffed
Music: We have fallen down again tonight (Spotify)

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Have you ever heard of Meghan Reinertsen?

My most valuable thing

Met up with the pastor early this past week for some coffee and…

Me: Wait, they have a $5 burger here!
Him: Yeah, it’s pretty good. Do you want to get one?
Me: Do I want a $5 burger?! Heck yeah! (afterwards) Are you thinking of getting another one?
Him: I will if you will.
Me: Looks like we’re having more burgers for brekkie!

Have you ever heard of Meghan Reinertsen?

She’s a nanny and an influencer but what really made her famous is the fact that she personally cancelled a United Airlines flight by having…explosive diarrhea.

And, to be clear, I’m not mocking her – at all – here.

After all, I know exactly how embarrassing and uncomfortable it is to have your body involuntarily leave your DNA everywhere and anywhere, through no real fault of your own.

Meghan’s story is that she, evidently, ate this undercooked cheeseburger and then had to lock herself into the airplane bathroom for 90 humiliating minutes where her DNA came out of both ends.

It was so bad that the plane was declared a biohazard and taken outta service for the next flight.

Since this was all pretty public, there wasn’t much to do but make a public apology video, which she did.

@meghanreinertsen Part 1 of how I personally got a United flight cancelled #storytime #airplane #diarrhea @United Airlines ♬ original sound – Meghan Reinertsen

But this entry isn’t about Meghan so much as it’s about my kid and alla his friends.

See, you and I met when I was 33 years old.

I was already a full-fledged(ish) adult when you read my very first entry back in September of 2006 some – Jesus Christ – two decades ago.

Back then, I was literally the only weirdo that carried around a camera with me at almost all times.

Plus, I wrote down what funny or memorable conversations I could remember.

This was not the burger that she had but it was the burger that I had with the pastor. Now I want another one…

But now, everyone has a camera and recording device on their person at all times.

And I can’t help but think of all the incredibly stupid, stupid, and cruel things I’ve done and said throughout my life – to say nuthin of all my embarrassing moments.

Dude, you may not believe it, but the version of me you met in 2006 was the mature version of me.

Logan Lo circa 2026?

I’m a goddamn piece of fine art by now.

Ok, maybe not fine, but just go with it for now…

Me in Berlin in 2006. I was 32.

My only saving grace is that no one had video phones/cameras on their person in the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s.

You absolutely would not be reading me. You’d be saying things like:

    • Logan? You mean the guy that wore rollerblades and fell down the entire staircase leading to Bethesda Fountain?
    • Logan? You mean the guy that wore parachute pants with the flock of seagulls haircut?
    • Logan? To mean the guy that practiced taiji for a decade and tried to fight with it?

My point being that, but for my telling you any of this, none of this would exist except in my own head.

But for the kid and his friends everything has the potentially to be recorded and preserved forever.

Everything has the potential to be just devastating – emotionally and socially.

I can laugh about alla that now because I’m 52 and honestly don’t care about much these days but, man, did I care when I was a kid.

And I hope that the kid realizes that nothing embarrassing is anything but a story to be told years from now.

So, here’s to the Meghans of the world that just say, Fuck it, and own their most embarrassing moments.

Because, today, there’s not much else you can do.

Him: Papa, why don’t you ever show my face?
Me: Oh no, kid. I’m so proud of you. It’s not that, it’s the opposite. You’re my treasure. And you don’t go showing off your treasure. You keep your most valuable things private.
Him: I’m your valuable thing?
Me: No, kid, you’re my most valuable thing. I got nuthin close to you.
Him: Yay!

Location: home, at a balmy 42 degrees
Mood: concerned
Music: Neighbors stare, I smile and wave ’cause I just don’t care (Spotify)

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Unkindness, Pt 1

Reliably unreliable

Was supposed to see A-SIL our in NJ today, but the weather was just gross so we just all stayed in, although my brother did come by because he’s in town from Cali.

It’s just as well, we’re all feeling run down around here.

Me: Are you sick?
Her: I dunno. I just feel like I’m fighting off something.
Me: Same. I don’t feel sick per se, I just feel…rough.

Think I said a dozen times just in this blog that the trait that I find the most attractive is kindness.

So, it logically follows that unkindness is the most unattractive quality, at least to me.

Before Alison, I once briefly dated a wealthy lawyer. She was attractive and very nice to me.

Just…not to everyone else.

She was rude and curt to waitstaff, always late to everything, and never – ever – did what she promised she’d do. Not for me or anyone else.

She was reliably unreliable.

One day, a rude event on an escalator followed by another one to a waiter in a restaurant was enough.

When we broke up, I remember Cappy asked me why and I remember saying, “Attractive is temporary, douchebag is forever. She was a douchebag.”

When we broke up, her sister – a successful lawyer in her own right and whose personality I liked more than hers, actually – told me that she and her husband would buy me a new Porsche if I reconsidered.

Remember telling them, “I’d rather have a Metrocard and be alone, than have a Porsche and be with her.”

Because, at some point, you just tired of making excuses – to yourself and others – for someone’s poor behaviour. It’s exhausting.

It was with her that I came up with the term, “Something a lot like love.” Cause, at one point, I really thought I loved her as she was attractive, smart, successful, and nice – but only to me, which wasn’t enough.

But I obviously didn’t love her, because I left her.

And I never once regretted it.

Bring this up for two reasons:

The first is that I’m so regularly pleasantly surprised with just how kind Sara is, along with all of her other good points.

I honestly don’t think that character trait can be overstated enough when it comes to just having a life partner.

Because looks and so many things can go away and, in the end, you’re stuck with who they are deep down inside.

Who Sara is is just as nice on the inside as she is on the outside.

There’s a second reason, though, which is that a whole raft of people from my past have been making reappearances in some fashion in my life and I’m reminded about how much I value this trait because some of the reappearances were very kind while others were less so.

But this is already a longer entry than I had expected it to be, so I’ll wrap it up in the next one.

Location: wet and gross NYC
Mood: cough cough
Music: all over everybody seems unkind (Spotify)

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Fat Logan and the Bouba–Kiki Effect

The shape of our lives

Her: I can’t imagine you as a fat kid.
Me: Oh, trust me, I was.
Her: I just can’t picture it.
My mom: Do you want to see pictures of him when he was chubby?
Her: Yes!
Me: Oh god…

If I said the words: Spike, Crack, Snip, or Kick and asked you to imagine that the sounds the words made had a shape, what shape would they be?

What if I said the words: Gooey, Balloon, Smooth, or Marshmallow?

If you’re like most people, the former comes across feeling kinda hard and pointy while the latter comes across as soft and rounded.

This is called the bouba–kiki effect.

Basically, words give us a certain feeling and have a “shape” to them in our heads.

Thought about this the other day because I’ve been telling everyone for years that I was fat at 14 but I only recently realized that was inaccurate.

I was fat in 5th grade so I would have been 10 then.

That was the most traumatic time of my childhood.

Childhood traumas stay with us for so long because of how time works relative to our age.

Case-in-point: I was fat for four years, from 10 to 14.

For a 52-year-old, that’s not that big a deal – after all, it only comprises approximately 8% of my life (4/52=0.08).

Unfortunately, when you’re 14 years old, those four years comprise almost a 1/3 of my entire life up to that point (4/14=0.29).

But it’s more than that, isn’t it?

Like, you don’t really remember much before you’re eight years old.

So, when I was 14 years old, I only remembered six years of my life, really.

This is actually the THINNER version of me.

That means that, those four years of my life – ages 10 to 14 – felt like most of my life, about 67% of it, to be exact (4/6=0.67).

My point is, if words have a shape and feeling, so too do periods of our lives.

I submit that periods of our lives have a weight and shape to them as well, and only we can see and feel them.

When people say, “Just get over it,” or, “That was ages ago,” they’re not being honest with how everyone processes their youth differently from everyone else.

For me, my fat years feel soft, heavy, slow, and oversized – everything was a drag and depressing.

Even now, if I had to describe my overweight years, despite their only occupying 8% of my total life, it FEELS closer to 33% of my life.

And this is why I try to remember that the kid is processing the world very differently than I am.

Yes, he’s 10, but he really only remembers stuff and people from when he was about seven or eight, so he’s really only lived maybe three years or so?

He doesn’t truly remember much beyond that, although he has a sense of things, like the bouba–kiki effect.

Like he has a sense of loving being in NJ with his grandparents and Queens with his cousins.

He just knows they make him feel good in one way or another.

That’s why, even some 40 years later, I still know exactly what it feels like to be a fat, friendless, kid.

It’s always why I’m always obsessed with food and being fit.

Because even though it was (several) lifetimes ago, deep down – well, probably not even that deep down – I’m terrified that I’ll wake up trapped in that fat kid’s body once more.

Which, let’s be honest, is only a few poor carbohydrate decisions away.

Me: Hit a new milestone today.
Her: What’s that?
Me: Welp…somehow, I’ve eaten four pounds of peanut butter in five weeks.
Her: You’re kidding.
Me: If only. (thinking) Now I gotta go out and pick up more peanut butter.

Location: my dry-as-a-bone room
Mood: stressed
Music: I paint a picture of the days gone by (Spotify)

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Worth keeping around

Just show them a great first date

Me: Wait, you have how many unread messages from guys?
Her: (checking phone) Hmmm, 1,021?
Sara: (laughs) That sounds about right.
Me: Man, it pays to be an attractive blonde female.

When Sara and I met up with Amanda the other day, we – like always – asked about her dating life.

Because now that Sara and I were married, it’s nice to live vicariously through her, the ABFF, A-SIL, and others.

Us: So…what’s the latest?

On a related note, the other day, I posted the above image on Facebook that someone sent me from rando reddit post (which I’ve since lost).

Didn’t think much of it – four friends of mine commented and I went to bed.

When I woke up the next morning, I had several hundred comments and, a few days later, over 400 comments.

Some were fine, with many of my female friends commenting how bad it is out there for them.

But the number of questionable – and I do mean questionable – responses from men really floored me.

They ranged from whiney and excuse-filled – somehow, a short, old, arthritic, minority widower is anything but average…

…to angry and…jealous?

I’m not sure how to understand this fella below, who seemed to be upset that I even went on 180 dates in 18 months, which is about 10 dates a month, or 2-3 dates a week – something I told you is totally doable if you just…do it.

It’s all so profoundly sad because men want to meet women and women want to meet men, but they are clearly speaking very different languages.

And what I found most shocking is that so many men were offended by the demonstrably true things I said: Which is that whenever a man goes on a date with a woman, he runs the risk of wasting his time and/or money.

But whenever a woman goes on a date with a man, she runs the risk of wasting her time and/or getting assaulted, raped, or worse.

And yet, men will say this kinda stuff without a hint of irony:

Did you know that ladies? That “men are assaulted at a much higher rate than women?”

It’s news to me – and, I’m sure, news to you as well.

In any case, he obviously doesn’t know that I met Alison after I got robbed of all my money, or that I met Sara after I gave up most of my clients and got robbed (again).

It *MUST* be because of money or something else that women like about me but not actually me – not because I’m actually a decent human being who can talk to a woman because that would mean, well, maybe it’s you, dude.

The funniest thing about that guy’s statement is that my oldest readers know that my fave thing to do while out and about was to see how many women I could get to buy me a drink in a night.

One night, I even got a girl to get guys to buy her a drink to give to me. That, my friends, is how you afford to go on a ton of dates without going broke.

No one ever dated me for my money.

Honestly, I’m not that good-looking, I’m old as dirt, I talk a lot with my hands, my back is just crap and the rest of my body isn’t far behind, I’m overly pedantic, etc.

And yet, I have zero problem meeting and dating women, probably because of two major reasons:

    1. When I was single, I put in the time. I got shot down, repeatedly. I most likely got turned down 2-3X more than I succeeded.
      • But when I failed (beyond her having a boyfriend), it was always my fault: I was too nervous, I was too forward, I was too hesitant, something.
        • That’s how you get better at anything – by not blaming someone or something else but by fixing the only thing you can control and change, yourself.
        • Do you remember when Alison rejected me? I accepted it and told her I hoped she’d reconsider…and then I immediately picked up three other women, two within the hour. It’s never the other person’s fault.
    2. The other reason? I respected the fact that women take a chance every time they went out on a date with me or anyone else.
      • That meant that when a woman did go on a date with me, I was always grateful they took a chance, and I rewarded them for taking that chance by being a decent human being and showing them a great time.

That’s it.

That’s the big secret, fellas:

Stop complaining, put in the time, and be a decent human being.

Being interesting and non-needy helps.

This singer named Craig David had a line in a song that I always told myself whenever I felt like whining: Instead of me feelin’ sorry for myself, gonna get me somethin’ tonight.

Because you can’t whine or anger your way into someone’s contact list.

Show someone a great first date, and they’ll come back for great second date.

You’d think this would be pretty easy.

You would, clearly, be mistaken.

Women have to go through thousands – thousands – of men to find one worth keeping around.

You gotta be worth keeping around to be worth keeping around, man.

Location: the gym, trying to survive against 20-somethings
Mood: annoyed and embarrassed
Music: it’s so late, yet, I’m so up for it (Spotify)
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