Thursday, April 21, 2011

An infomerical on Love

Love is like magic.

Sorry that should read love is like a magic trick.

Now I am not saying that to diss love or magic tricks. I have known a few magic tricks in my time and trust me, they are good people. Love, never met a love I liked but that’s another story.

Literally, another story, go read it.

But love, in it’s purest sense is a magic trick, and one I think begs us to ask how is it done. Ok there was no actually begging for this, but it is nice to think that love just once begged me instead of the other way around. So, now for the first time…today, I am going to show how this trick is done and the reason it is so popular with the kids today.

Damn kids get off my lawn already.

Sorry, magic, ready ? Grab a notepad and pay attention, this can go quickly.

Now love, first love, is in fact a mind altering experience. I mean that literally. There are scientists, don’t ask which ones, that have proven a chemical, don’t ask which one, is produced when two people are attracted to each other. So that giddy, stomach falling out, thrill down your spine feeling isn’t a sign of love, it is a sign your brain just liked what it say and released some gunk into your body that if bottled, would bring about world peace and a population explosion the likes this planet has never seen. Its effects have been compared to alcohol, marijuana and even heroin. It can make your common sense and reasoning abilities become fuzzy and one can find themselves in all manner of complications when the chemicals leave your system.

And trust me, they will.

See that’s the problem already, they leave. That sense of nervous laughter and anticipation of what they are going to say fades and sometimes you are left with some idiot that you are pretty sure wasn’t invited in the first place and you look around and think to yourself how in the hell did I even get to a Denny’s and why am I with him. If you are very, very lucky, you had this revelation before sex, most times, not a chance.

So already we know there is a component outside of the heart and romance that has a factor in love pulling of it’s trick. Chemicals. Always nice to know when the chips are down, you can always count on your brain to slip you a mickey late in the game.

But here is the kicker, these scientists, remember you promised not to ask, can’t determine if the chemicals are in fact, addictive.

Let me be the first person to throw a little yellow flag on that play and blow my whistle.

Don’t know if it’s addictive ?

Let’s see…I got dumped by a guy once because he was under investigation for doing drugs in the military and knew I was clean so dated me while they looked cause he knew I wouldn’t turn him on to some coke. The day after he was cleared he was off, not kidding, blowing drag queens for a line of coke in the back room of a local bar. True story. I got dumped once by a guy who said that he was madly in love with me and could spend the rest of his life with me, if I was only a LITTLE better looking. I once got told by a guy I dated that he was going to dump me because his friends thought I was just not a good enough fit with the pack of them. I once drove 5 hours in the middle of the night to meet someone I had been talking to on the internet only to turn around and drive back within minutes, I once got kicked out of a guys house cause his dog didn’t like me and if the dog thought so, the owner was going to side with the dog. I once got told I fucked like a madman but that intensity I went about showing emotion to him was scaring the shit out of him. I once slipped out a guys bathroom window because he came out of his room dressed like a 6’4 Mae West, boots and all and asked me if I knew how to whistle. I didn’t have the nerve to tell him that it wasn’t Mae who said that line. I once went out with a guy for 2 weeks and never once asked his name. I have gone out with a porn star, 4 strippers, 2 actors and well known news anchor. I have gone out with out of shape Navy welders and a bald guy once who ended up reminding me of Uncle Fester. I have dated guys 10 years younger than me and 20 years older. To say this is not my first time at the rodeo is to insult the sheer tonnage of rodeo material I have.

Now, after all that you think the fact I am still looking for real love ISN’T an addiction ? Of course I am addicted. I am a full on love junkie. I love the first smile and the long nights on the phone, I adore the way your toes curl when you kiss and the little sidestep your heart can do just by making eye contact. I crave the intimacy of a new love where you can’t stop touching them and even the sound of their voice can make your day better. I would hit my grandmother over the head with a snow shovel for those cute little gifts that you give at the start that mean I like you, I really, really like you. There is no feeling on earth like love, nothing.

Well maybe incredible sex but that is simply a fluke, nothing more.

So we get addicted, and we go after it again and again. Who hasn’t been on a three day binge where you like meet a guy, sleep with him, go to the coffee shop with him, eat dinner, sex, sit on the couch, flirt in the Blockbuster, eat, sex, and then finally, after wearing the same clothes for three days you go home and collapse and the first thought you have is, when do I see him again ?
But here it comes, the letdown, The chemicals flush themselves out of your system, you are in the shower and you smile at the thought of the last three days, but there is another voice. It is small, it is tiny, but it’s there. And all it says is…

What if this isn't real ?

Now little voices are well and good. I have one that tells me to burn things but I am pretty sure I got that from a Simpson’s episode so when I do go off and burn something down I will have a handy lawsuit waiting. But little voices are bad mostly. Little voices that come and knock on your door and introduce themselves as common sense and rational thought but they aren’t. They are like way hot Jehovah Witnesses that wake you up from a wicked erotic dream, And you go to the door and there are two young, hot guys in white shirts and you think damn, this is like a porn and then they ask if you have accepted someone as your lord and savior or something about the kingdom of God and you’re shit, I can’t jump these guys, bad enough I am going to hell but I known DAMN well I am going to be in a small room next to Lee Harvey Oswald if I try to make a move on one of these.

Where was I ?

Little voices, little voices are crap. They come and one at a time they leave a little tidbit on your mental doorstep and each time, like a jackass we pick it up and look at it. Like some weird freaked out cat that is bringing you dead animals and shit, and each time you look down at it like maybe just once your cat is going to bring you money which of course is silly cause if your cat found money it would go buy tuna, cats being not the sharingest things in the universe. But we listen, and we go and put them all in this little scrapbook with the guys name on it. And we wait.

Why didn’t he call last night ?
Why does he sound different when I call him at work ?
Is it really his friend on the other line ?
Who are the other people on his buddy list and is he having cyber sex with them ?
Was the sex bad ?
Why did he cancel last night ?
Am I just being a stalker now ?
All of them, little voices, add up.

So finally, there is no hum, there are no chemicals. There is this guy, and he has these things. I mean no, not huge things, but they are things. He has weird friends. He can’t watch TV and talk at the same time. He HAS to have the remote in his hand. He has the shittest movies in his DVD collection you have ever seen. What grown man watches that much Saved by the Bell ? Why does he have to chew with his mouth open ? Is that snore a medical condition ? Does he not know his toenails can cut skin ? Does he not think I get the point of his dick in my mouth is pleasure, why does he have to hold my head, I know what I am doing. Did he always read Solider of Fortune magazines ? Are the porn sites on his computer really his or just spam bots ?

And it is over. I mean sure, you can hold on, talk it out, try new things. You can try some weird sex, go out more, add another guy in the mix, whatever. But seriously, put the clubs away, you shot over par for this hole and it is time to move on. But we are stupid creatures and we try to hold on to things. I have a view master with Thriller from 1984, I don’t even like Michael Jackson, ask me why I have it. Can’t tell you, but I hold on to it. If I hold on to that, you hold on to bad guys.

So, what is the point ?

Damn, a point.

Ok here is the thing. Love is not what we have been talking about. We have been talking about other things. We have been talking about lust, infatuation, obsession and stingy cats. But not once have we hit on love. So let’s hit on it.

What is it ?

Well it would be the complete opposite of everything we just covered. It isn’t fast, it isn’t chemical and it isn’t fleeting. It is not something you can come to in a few dates and it is certainly not something that should come lightly. Love should be something more, something substantial. Something not comparable to a view master. Love is what happens next, love is what happens despite ourselves, and if you are looking for it, stop.

Ok, I hate that also. That whole don’t look for love and it will find you crap. What is it, shy ? Is it endangered ? Retarded ? It cant find me if I am standing there calling it’s name ? My ass, you can look for love and find it, you just can’t do it willingly.

It’s like flying.

The key to flying, as in flying without a plane kind of flying, is throwing yourself at the ground and missing. I am quoting Douglas Adams here and he is dead so if it makes no sense, kill yourself and take it up with him. He said something like this: Flying breaks down like this: Before attempting to fly, You should check you are fully sane. If you are, then you won't be able to fly. It's an insanity thing. When you launch, make sure, after you dive off the cliff, it is absolutely essential you miss the ground. If you hit it, you're screwed. After missing the ground (assuming you are insane enough), you must not, at any cost, think about it. At all times, flying is something you have to do without thinking about it. If you do think about it, the law of gravity will glance suddenly and sharply in your direction, and demand to know what the hell you're doing up there, in which case it will grab you. Under no circumstances attempt flying if you have a diploma in anything. 

You can want love. I mean we all want love. Ok you back there with the glare, go on, get out, no one asked you to read. Move on. We can wait mister.

Anyway, we all want love. But the thing is, you can’t actively go out and seek love. You can’t go out with like a band of hunters and an elephant with some guide and stalk it. Well you can but I assure you, you aren’t going to have many second dates.

You have to want it without stopping what you are doing. Have a life, go out, laugh, live, drink, eat, breathe, you know, all those things. But know, know in the back of your mind, you aren’t looking to get off. You aren’t looking for a quick trip around the park and maybe a nightcap. Well you can look for that, but I assure you, when you do, you won’t find love. And that is the trick.
Love comes when you aren’t looking at it, not for it. It is a matter of tricking yourself to look the wrong way at the right time and WHAM ! Well not WHAM, WHAM cause then you’d be in a bathroom and George Michaels hasn’t aged well so best not touch on that. But wham, and the voices are gone. Again, we are assuming you don’t have like real voices that are telling you to hurt things or vote Republican, I mean the voices that scare you to death and make you just tear some poor shmuck down to the lowest common denominator. It is only when it is right in front of you will you be able to see it.

And that is a lot like a magic trick.

It is not about looking, trying, hunting, staking or wanting. It is about you. See you can go out and try to find it, but you are the guy who is trying instead of you. And the guy who is looking is kinda weird and no one really likes me all that much,. I mean sure he’s cute and nice but damn, he just reeks of desperation and that my friend is never going to be in a bottle and sold with a big CK on it. Be you, go out and just live. Have fun and be yourself. The guy who will love you, will see YOU and not that guy. Don’t be that guy. That guy is always the guy who gets blown off and then asks, what did I do wrong ?

The answer, everything.

So let’s recap.

Cats are stingy.
Chemicals can be bad.
I have dated some losers in my time.
Little voices make little sense, ignore them
Love, like flying, is best done when you aren’t paying attention.

And the most important part….I have a 1984 Thriller View Master if anyone is interested…drop me a line.


  1. nicely put. sometimes it's a bit complicated (i know, i've been there - took me 4 years to finally realize i'm completely in love with the guy i'm in love with) but i'ts exactly like you described it. be yourself, live your normal life and love will find you.

    just one thing - if you are total geek and live in your mother's basement - forget it will ;)

  2. No I do not live in a basement with my mom, but I do own cats lol

  3. wrong. humans can not own cats. it's all the other way. it's just that cats want humans to believe they are owners. it's easier to control them this way. meow.