Blame it on Midnight‏

Blame it on Midnight

The above title is from the Bob Seger song, "Shame on the Moon," in which, Seger, tongue-in-cheek, blames the unpredictable behavior of some men on, well, midnight. After all, someone or something, other the men themselves, had to be responsible for what had happened in their lives. (The youtube link to Seger's "Shame on the Moon" is
at the end of this column.)

I mention this because the woman featured into today's newsletter sort of blames me for the lack of men in her life. If not midnight, she might as well blame someone, other than herself, and she picked me.

I will call her Ms. X. She wrote: "I read with interest each of your newsletters. Some are very helpful; some not so much."

WHAT? I scream! Some of my newsletters don't help so much? Preposterous! Damn. I thought I knocked it out of the ballpark each and every week. I guess not. When you are a columnist, the truth hurts, especially when you are reminded of it in the first paragraph of an incoming email.

Then she wrote, "In the most recent newsletter (the one about Zoe walking the Camino in Spain), I read that not all of us will find love. Really? I don't think I could go on living if I have to fall in that statistic. It's hard enough as it is being told by men my age that I am too old."

I need to remind her, what I wrote last week:  "...as we age, not all of us will always find love. I think most of us would like that, but for many, the dice haven't rolled that way yet."

That sentence fragment says that some of us haven't found love yet. I did not say we will never find love. I said yet. And yet, Ms. X interpreted that as never.

I hope she will continue living if a man is not in her life, although she says she doesn't think she can. She forgets that she might be better off without a man, especially if she settles in with a guy who treats her poorly.

Then she added, "The pain of constant rejection is horrible and now I must face the prospect of never meeting my love? Thanks a lot. While you sit there happily with your younger partner. I can only be a spectator in love? Please clarify."

OK, I will attempt to clarify.

It sounds like because I write about the reality and difficulty of finding love after 60, and I call it the way it is, that I am to blame for her not finding love. At least she didn't blame it on midnight, or heaven forbid, herself.

And then she takes a subtle shot at me having a younger partner, that puts me in the category of those men who only date younger women and who tell women they are too old. Well, of course, she is right on that-my partner Greta is younger, by a rompin', stompin', 18 months. Greta will be happy that someone out there thinks she is a whole bunch younger than she is. Greta takes good care of herself, which I appreciate.

Ms. X missed the point of last week's story about 70-year-old Zoe, walking by herself on the Camino in Spain, enriching her life, exercising and meeting new people. Not having a man in her life isn't holding Zoe back; I commend Zoe's courage.

Approximately 25 women responded, admiring what Zoe is doing, which is an inspiration not only to women but to men as well.

And then there was Ms. X, finding blame for her situation instead of taking the bull by the horns (the Camino passes through Pamplona, where they have the running of the bulls) and making life happen-with or without a man. Yes, she is a spectator now. To change that, she needs to get out and get involved with activities she enjoys.

And now on to the fun part. The link to the Bob Seger classic, "Shame on the Moon." Give it a listen. The upfront, irritating advertisement lasts only 10 seconds.
 

Bob Seger - Shame On The Moon

 Have an enjoyable week-end.


Tom