fbpx

Meant2Be: Analog heart in a digital world

Following the dissolution of an almost 25-year marriage, I found myself in very unfamiliar territory: the singles world.
[additional-authors]
November 30, 2016

Following the dissolution of an almost 25-year marriage, I found myself in very unfamiliar territory: the singles world.

The last time I was single was Aug. 9, 1985. That was the first date I had with my now former wife. (I refrain from using the word “ex” as it has such a negative mojo to it.) The sea change in the dating landscape since then has left me hopelessly romantically rusty.

I recall dialing my former wife on a rotary phone. Those of you born in the ’50s (and maybe part of the ’60s) will know what I am talking about. Anyway, my point is, that was a long, long time ago. And things have changed. A lot. 

There was no such thing as Starbucks; you ordered a “coffee” at Ships restaurant in Westwood and made your own toast at the table. There were no iPhones, iPads or texting. No email. No Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter or Jdate. 

You met “her” at a party, on campus, or a friend set the two of you up. In my case, my late father made the introduction — but not until after he bribed me with a Ben Franklin. It was the quintessential blind date.

Flash forward to 2016. Where am I? Mars? Actually, it feels even more remote and different than that to me. Maybe Pluto. 

My friends, who mean well, have applied gentle pressure to start dating again. I felt as if I needed a passport. I went on one dating site and immediately was spooked when unknown women started dancing across the screen with a “wanna chat” graphic. I know a ton of people have had success with online sites, but I guess I am just old school, or old-fashioned. But I am not old. They tell me that 60 is the new 46, or something like that. 

So I dropped out from online dating like an anvil on Wile E. Coyote. This experience quickly brought me back to the bricks-and-mortar world of dating — a setup, a referral or a chance encounter. All were a bit disastrous.

I met one woman for drinks — I’ll call her Robin — and she proceeded to tell me how many guys wanted to marry her since she became available. As my late father used to say: “Next.”

Another woman felt obliged to tell me she didn’t really like her boyfriend but stayed with him anyway. I asked her why she accepted a date with me if she already had a boyfriend. Did she think she was at CarMax and just kicking some tires? Check please.

Finally, one woman who knew my situation as a guy “just getting back on my feet” in the dating arena and who professed to understand my glacial approach to romance these days — or so I thought — just wanted to “close escrow” in, like, 30 days. “Exit, staaaaaaage left!”

I’ve been single for a little over four years now and have gone on a number of well-meaning dates that never had a sequel. I’ve also spent plenty of meals alone: Napoleon Solo, Lone Wolf McQuade. It’s provided a stunning perspective into the female mindset.

Almost with Rolex reliability, I overhear how they hate their “ex” (their word, not mine), or how their boyfriend never does this or that. Often, these women are so fed up with marriage, dating, and relationships gone bad that they turn it into a referendum on all males. It’s sad to a hopeless (now hopeful) romantic. 

Which is why Paul McCartney is my hero. He loved Linda, the famous love of his life, then married a witch of a woman who threw him under a British double-decker bus. And then, defying all sensibility or logic, the rock star chose monogamy for a third time! 

You go, Sir Paul. You go.

At this point, though, I still sort of feel like a “Nowhere Man” on “The Long and Winding Road.” Help!

I am genuinely a huge fan of the opposite sex. I loved being married (and the two remarkable daughters who resulted from it). I signed up for the “in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, and until death do you part” stuff the rabbi asked of me. Alas, it takes two people to get married and only one to call it a day.

Now I am merely questioning: Is there a woman, preferably not on Pluto, who won’t make a guy guilty by association? Because I really want to take a page out of Sir Paul’s heart handbook.

I may no longer own a rotary phone, but I still do have a heart — and it will forever be analog. 


Michael Peikoff is a senior-living adviser and a former longtime entertainment executive with Warner Bros., 20th Century Fox and Sony Pictures.

Did you enjoy this article?
You'll love our roundtable.

Editor's Picks

Latest Articles

True Legends and a Smoked Brisket

This week we share our column with one of our favorite Instagram bloggers, New Yorker Jeff Mosczyc (pronounced Mah-zik). As the son of a German immigrant father and a first-generation Hungarian mother, his mouthwatering, meat-centric recipes reflect his Ashkenazi background.

Father’s Day Food

This year’s Father’s Day round-up features recipes from different ends of the Jewish spectrum: dill pickle kraut and a Moroccan tomato dip.

What Will Bibi Do?

With the U.S. and Iran signing a ceasefire deal that limits Israel’s options, the Israeli prime minister is facing a most difficult moment during an election year.

Trump’s Civilizational Moment

It all depends on one mercurial and imperfect man in the White House. But whether he succeeds or fails, he is leading a free world, much of which no longer understands what it needs to do to survive.

When ‘Peace’ Breaks Out

Ultimately, although he presented himself as a disruptor, Trump remains captive to the conceptual frameworks, values and norms of Western societies, which place them at a disadvantage in the current clash of civilizations.

We Need a Long-Term Strategy to Deal with Iran

In handing Tehran the keys to lock up the region without a fight, Trump would become the first American president to sign away his country’s right to ply international waters freely.

Hope Is Not a Foreign Policy

The “deal,” as far as is known right now, is simply a 60-day extension of the ceasefire. The can will be kicked down the road.

A Heavenly Service

During these days when it is so easy to succumb to despair, religious services can serve as a wonderful antidote to hopelessness. Especially this one.

What My Soul Knows Before I Do

Sometimes the soul arrives before the explanation does. And sometimes, just before dawn, the world becomes quiet enough for us to notice the first light.

More news and opinions than at a Shabbat dinner, right in your inbox.