Tinder: Part 3

       Four years since its initial launch, the app that changed online and offline dating has become commonplace among the social media giants. You may have noticed a change in the way users approach this modern social experiment. From the indiscriminate right swiper and hook-up seekers to miner's bent on finding "something real", your approach to narrowing the field is dictated by quick judgments. At times I've questioned how many profiles are actually backed by real users and certainly had my doubts about the investment in messaging someone who will likely become a ghost upon discovering my modest height or inability to fund a weekly sushi night.
   
     Originally I saw the superficial selector to favor men who could hide behind a photo facade, safe to heckle and cat call the few brave women willing to endure their filth. Over time however, I've grown to see the subtle sinister ways Tinder and dating apps like it have given women a coarse upper hand. While normally I'd consider a slant toward female users as a just handicap to offset the vile behavior of predatory men, that in itself supports a gender bias that comes from my confidence that men can overcome a disadvantage women cannot. Without explicitly pitting the sexes against each other I do believe dating finds good women at odds with bad men and good men at odds with bad women.

     While anonymity has been claimed as a tool for evil by many men more accurately described as trolls, traditional dating holdouts such as an expectation that the man should pay, have their own place in the destruction of modern dating. These conventional expectations have combined with the Tinder method of dating strangers to yield a less than desirable experience for both parties. Whether it's a 60 year old elephant man hidden beneath Abercrombie jpegs or a twenty-something "brand ambassador" scheduling dinner dates in lieu of grocery shopping we have a serious problem if Tinder signals the future of dating.

Mirror Mirror

     When I began this blog, many close to me offered their support and encouragement, seemingly convinced I'd thrown in the towel as passive-aggressively as possible. Truthfully though, this isn't about dating or even the increasingly disconnected pool that Los Angeles affords. Modern courtship has certainly changed since my parents met, way back before one could hide their flaws behind a handful of good hair day selfies. But the changes we've seen have less to do with the proliferation of dating apps or relaxed standards that accept Netflix and chill as a reasonable second date offering. Instead I propose we're in the middle of a character shift that applies to anyone with access to internet.

     Steven Johnson's "How We Got To Now" identifies mirrors as one of the prime reasons the western world saw an increase of individualism in the late 19th century. As the advent of more durable and affordable glass mirrors put self reflection in the hands of common people we began to see the world with our own image foremost in mind. A simple mirror may seem insignificant but the psychology behind this shift can't be ignored. Our priorities and focus in life are directly affected by what or who is in front of our eyes. Similar to the impact mirrors have had on modern society, the internet continues to drive our focus inward albeit through promises of connection to others.

     The vast network of people connected globally through the web has been a boon for most industries and started countless new businesses, but it's the personal value that drives the technology forward. While marketing generally thrives on the selfishness of consumers we don't want to feel like we're feeding our self-centric cravings so every new feature is presented as an opportunity to connect with others. In reality we buy more products as they are targeted specifically to individual profiles, read news that supports our perspective without regard for its questionable integrity and post more pictures of our own faces everyday. The computer in your hand is greater than the fabled Magic Mirror and capable of supporting our grandest delusions without fear anyone else will be displayed more fair.

Doggie Dating: Part 2

     Sometimes I brake and coast through traffic at 4pm, confident the slow lane is advancing faster than the others. In the back seat she climbs unsuspected and like an amateur sheds enough hair in five minutes to clothe a family of Eskimos. Her antics will cost an hour of vacuuming as we creep toward Rosie's Dog Park in Long Beach, still hopeful to enjoy some sun before the early winter smog-set at 4:30pm. I remember happily our first visit to the dog beach. Gentle lake like swells eased Paola into the joy that is playing fetch in the waves. A handful of patient people shared their tennis balls as she would out-sprint their dogs knocking down children who got in her way. Bringing a puppy to the ocean for the first time in LA is more work than it is pleasure, so was it a mistake to make a date of it too?
   
     For someone who considered nine dog-less years to be downright unnatural I was happy to finally bring home a shelter mutt for my own last year. On one hand are the compromises and expenses associated but the benefits cannot be counted. Besides the obvious, companionship and the irrational devotion a dog extends to their owner, I've found there are many additional perks that come with dog adoption. Not least of these is the puppy-fication of a dating profile. It's impossible to calculate the increase in value a dog brings to your picture. So many swipers confess to the phenomenon in their bios or initial messages it's tempting to exclude oneself from the picture and just let Paola take the wheel.
   
     Salt and sand stuck to everything as we trudged back to the car. Failing for the first time to overthink this one I felt confident. Another critter there to distract me may have done more good than I could've anticipated and we drove back. Beach Boys radio on Pandora did not disappoint and a slow crawl home lulled my four-legged friend to sleep in the back seat. We pulled up to her apartment and before leaving she kissed me. On cue Paola pushed between us for her own sloppy send off and it felt perfect in that flawed way only reality can. I can't pretend to know why we never went out again despite my efforts and a reason was never given. Trying to learn something from every experience will drive you crazy though, especially when they don't make sense. Sometimes great memories and a happy puppy are enough.