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.
   

Thanksgiving Misgivings

     A foam football soaks in the deep end of a leafy pool as my nephews and I precariously reach for it the fifth time. Various sports fill every corner of a 100" screen and the pie table nearby sees early action before dinner is served. Kids young and old congregate before a Toy Story marathon to hear the rules for a new board game. Newlyweds share stories with family eager to support them as they breach new territory in need of wisdom. Grandpa makes the announcement and everyone shuffles out to the lawn for a photo before dusk. Perched again on the pool's edge I wonder how many of these I'll take alone. I see my siblings and cousins pair up year after year through this lens. With the frame always expanding to accommodate I shout directions so the tiny faces in the back don't block themselves behind big hair and cousins who've grown too tall for the front row.
   
     On the drive to Simi Valley my mind wanders back to previous photographs. We've seen some come and go, insets made for those who couldn't be there. Small ones fill in the gaps between us and Facebook wonders who to tag. I've seen longtime standers graduate to a chair and little new-comers stand on their own for the first time. My family is changing rapidly and it's harder and harder to find myself kneeling in the front row solo, but that's where I am. When I first moved to Burbank after graduation I couldn't relate to new friends who said LA was a lonely city or the friendsgiving families who couldn't drive an hour home as I could. With time I've grown to understand and the stretch from Halloween to New Years now seems to last longer than the rest of the year.

     Years transform families and as they fray and refresh we begin to see what makes our own unique. Love seems to work well if growth is the goal and judgement also very effective when looking to divide. How family is defined for me also changes every year. When I was young I thought it meant one thing and as an adult that became less important to me. My own life and career took precedent pushing family into holiday boxes where I could check in once in a while. The definition is changing again and I don't know what it means right now, but I can't wait to take next year's picture.

Nobody Relates Anymore, They Never Did.

    Hey everybody. Sorry about that break. When you step outside and ask yourself what today has to offer, it's reasonable to assume you should've had a plan before leaving home. The name of the game is game plan and what we really reject upon first sight isn't features or forthcoming details begging for our refusal, the first thing we see is whatever we want to see. Whoever you're intrigued by is a product of your own imagination. I'm not bringing this from some misguided place of pondering but the honesty it takes to exclude myself from the equation. When you begin to recognize that everyone brings a backstory and yours is only a diversion, you're ready to meet someone where they're at. The problem is he or she is likely in another place of their own device. I wish I could ignore our current political climate but it illustrates the point beyond anything more familiar.

     So many close to me felt the surge of adrenaline and abrupt confusion brought on by the fact that losing feels more significant than any of the previous victories. Liberal fears of a mysteriously uncouth candidate elect should stir the conservative bones in everybody bent on denying the leadership thoughts in minds of men even half as hateful. Unfortunately our fears and confusions result in chaos and what you see makes more sense than what you cannot. I have no hope to offer my fearful friends, the time is to be better spent with fools now, too excited to see their pull may be thwarted by simple suggestion. As strange as it sounds I do encourage it though, the dice occasionally fall in favor of the wicked and more often when support comes from the well intentioned right. 

     Many plan for heavy drinking and short term goals of denying reality. These are well to be planned as weekend distractions but work will come soon. If you spend your life searching for someone like you, you'll find yourself in a world unrelatable. Your own ideas will bend to accommodate the averages around you. I'm not suggesting conflict but rather accepting it and want to encourage the dating to stand firm in your beliefs. No one wants to fall in love only to find you voted for a monster. 

Rejection & Pity

     Absolutely convinced, she walked out and anxiously directed her Lyft driver to the ungoogleable side-street. Three turns short of an Austin Powers sequel he arrived in time to find her awkwardly engaged by the last Tinder date she'd ever have. His words sounded offensive and reminiscent of construction cat calls or the odd shouting of a drunken racist as he watches the Olympics. She left to rid her life of the garbage represented by image driven connections to men online. She deleted the app again for the last time and opened the ice cream-less freezer, thankful for the maliciously sober decisions bent on depriving her maligned self from picking at fresh scabs.

     When she woke the memory of things gained was lost amidst heaps of confusing abrasion. Everything she could remember about the would-be suitor repulsed her and sparked an internal conversation bent on getting to the bottom of modern attraction. She couldn't stand the idea that a confident woman in the new millennium would feel the need to be bound to a man. Historically marriage placed women and their dowry on par with peace, a concept as speech-worthy as it is inapplicable in the Middle East.

    To be pitied however is quite painful. A friend who rejoices in the fact that they can never be you, is a crack in the wall of the 8 ft pool you call your life. A few summer parties in tubes and bikinis leaks to a solitary forty year old skateboarder shredding apart property values. Pity wins when compared to rejection though. To be pitied assumes you had potential to do better. When a woman rejects you the whole world joins in. Rejection either demands a pitiable person emerge or someone never worthy of acceptance in the first place. 

The Eyes of the Beholder

     His pockmarks deflected her gaze like uncredited fists from Bruce Lee's comfort zone. Confident in his sharp whit and chivalrous nature Matt could command a room and have all the ladies laughing. He couldn't keep them from admiring any other man though, unblemished and dull as they may be. Rock idols with filthy blonde strands leaking down to heroin scarred landscapes were once identified as sex symbols and the gritty black and white jacket photos inspired him. Something so great like the tide of tones or just the draw of fame might overcome even the most heinous of physical deterrents.

     She blamed her glasses for repeated nights of Dancing with the Stars and prayed the irritation wouldn't keep those hazels from contacting attention at her cousin's wedding this Sunday. Emily accused her body type for the ill-fitting dress she settled on after two hours of work in the mirror and drove like a demon on God's good side cross county lines for a last minute entrance as the procession began. Envy crept in on cue but she kept her tight smile and hugged new family and victorious rival alike with no hope but to see greener grass when her day comes.

     They won't meet. Even if they did, they are not right for each other. She defines her own attraction but not without the help of every idol photographed and presented to her in line at Vons or on billboards lining her daily crawl to work. He's not interested because she doesn't meet his Buzzfeed manufactured standard. Sadly she is far out of his league even if he was interested, but he'll never stoop so low to discover how far beyond appearances human connection can dwell. 

Plus Ones Suck

     Their celebration of love cemented by vows and tax forms played out a classy chorus under typically perfect Ventura county weather. I can't help but be proud of them, she a sweet girl impossibly matched and he made us forget what they were ever like apart. If marriage released its flagship model complete with Bluetooth, reverse camera and seat warmers, this was it. But amidst the  fog of new nuptials, candid toasts and keg explosions I sat with my sister wondering what was next. As much as I want to take joy in the success of my friends and family, it's always painful leaving the plus one box empty on satin stationary.

     In fact my answers are always the same, yes I'll be attending alone and pumped for the chicken. While buddies slap my back suggesting single bridesmaids can cure the blank space blues it's difficult to ignore the constant reminders of your relationship status. Relegated to the singles table we took the opportunity to catch up and bonded over our inability to share a funny honeymoon story prompted by table decorations. An hour later I was happy to see my sister dancing with the best man but I knew no amount of wine could move my feet with family watching.

     Of course the pressure to marry is great when you walk past gowns and babies with a girlfriend on your arm. The tension can be like showing up to Indianapolis in a go cart with Pennzoil plastered to the side and the moment you yank the starter cord her dad's going to scan the crowd for a proper suitor. But my sympathy is with the lonely who have no opportunity to fail. A wedding may be their chance to wine and dance the groom's sister into a stupor but at the end of the night she still lives in Phoenix and you're not sure grandma's introduction qualifies as "Our Story" material.

   

Small Talk Blows

     Native Alaskans probably have no idea how strange their childhood was. Surrounded by enough trucks and guns to make a Texan envious they enjoy endless wilderness uninhibited by power lines and billboards day and night through the summer. If the Northern Lights feel as remarkable as an episode of Wheel of Fortune your birth place is objectively interesting. Unfortunately, most of us come from regular towns in regular counties surrounded by supremely regular and obnoxiously straight border lines. Trying to prod a stranger with the same questions only to get the same answers makes engaging a first date in small talk a painfully banal experience, similar to inputting your email and password twelve times a day or watching baseball on tv.
   
     It is possible to fall for someone without knowing which Springfield they're from, what irrelevant degree they're still paying off or how they spend their binge hours guessing which Game of Thrones cast member will die next. The art of creative conversation is practiced by many but only properly wielded by the few willing to risk skipping formalities in search of character. There are those who will dodge any effort to connect with someone in an attempt at humor. While this may lend itself to a good gab down the bar, it robs both people of the chance to know who they're talking to. Comedy may be the primary attribute people respond to on a first date but it can serve as a mask for true feelings.

     If small talk is like filling in a child's coloring book then discussions about religion and politics is certainly Sistine chapel material. Avoiding the awkward yes and no questioning brought on by a justifiable lack of preparation can lead to topics we're passionate about. While there's nothing wrong with making a lasting connection over a mutual disgust for Donald Trump or bonding together in an effort to share your common faith in an over seas mission, there's typically a time and place for these discussions and a first date might not be the best place for it. Whatever you do to avoid the boilerplate discussion doomed to evade your memory the next day, mean what you say and remember to listen at least half the time.

   
   

Anywhere but Here

     Nashville found us relaxing with Titans and Tennesee locals alike. Fireside we heard stories about standup stints and advice on solid business investments like parking lots and public storage. Her house opened to us after meeting only the night before. Her friends were friendly and her animals abundant, even the chickens were woken to meet me. I'm not sure why anything happens at the time, why good or bad or the curious blend sweep us up with no explanations. Sometimes like this one, I can see purpose without any clues to validate it. Then my eagerness to look back with thankfulness upon a completed picture beats the desire to control an odd swirl of events intent on pushing me from my comfort zone.

     He believed me when I said he had no idea how hard it was. Settling into a cultural swarm like LA as a young married couple is challenging in its own ways, like crossing the Snake River into a new world dependent only on your wagon's worth, minus maybe the threat of consumption. What they did have was each other and the very real benefit of already finding that somewhere else. So when I told him that nothing happens organically in Tinsel Town he took my word for it. After a few days though we had multiple examples, from backyard bonfires to sweet southern invites to the Waffle House following a long work day.

     I wish I could say her hospitality felt natural but it was so foreign to me I couldn't help but wonder why. In the city where kings and queens are chosen overnight and by merits not listed in fables or sung about on Sundays her behavior would be suspect. Like a well structured script we know each other's intentions by the end of the first act and no good deed goes unpunished. I've enjoyed Midwestern honesty and Southern reception, enough to know she had something else. Her Western roots went where they had to when needy competitors lined up for rejection and the other like-minded humanists were anywhere else engaged in real conversations. I look forward to seeing her again, anywhere but here.