I’m 67 but I feel 37 (ok sometimes 57) Any suggestions for finding Mr. Right? Or at least Mr. We Might Have Some Fun? thanks, Unc!
Dear Junior Mints,
When I was a kid my parents were always worried about me because I had friends that were mostly older than me. I was sort of a regular Max Tivoli. At the age of 8, I’d just as soon invite my best friend in the 3rd grade over to draw pictures as I would the 47-year-old Charles Chips man who delivered our weekly supply of BBQ potato chips to our doorstep in a brown truck (you haven’t actually lived until you’ve experienced 1970‘s potato chip delivery technology).
In middle school, I played in a classic rock band with a bunch of really “elderly” men who were in their late 20’s (my dad drove me over to their wood-paneled basement practice space every Thursday on his BSA Lightening) and after many of our performances we would sit around in the Holiday Inn lounge in our plumb colored Members Only jackets with our groupies – a bunch of “old” ladies who were in their mid 20’s.
My very first girlfriend was 19 years older than me and she had a raspy voice that sounded like she’d been eating barbed wire and Sweet Tarts for a hundred years. Whenever she called the house my mom got scared. Then, at the age of 33, shortly after my divorce, my new best friend became a man in his 70’s who gave me a lot of gifts (he was just being a good divorce buddy) and my mom got scared for different reasons. My last 2 romantic relationships have been May December relationships (with a 15 year age gap between us) – and one of those exes, who is now 31, is currently dating a 62-year-old man (which I think qualifies as a May Bifocal relationship).
What I’ve realized just now is that there are a dizzying variety of numbers in the preceding paragraphs which brings me to my point. I just don’t care too much about numbers when it comes to the world of relationships and neither should you. As long as you can manifest a great deal abundance for yourself in terms of love and intimacy, aren’t hurting anyone (and can figure out how much tip to leave your waiter) numbers should be nothing more than schmumbers to you, Junior Mints. Age is just some lame earth rotation gravity calendar thingy anyway (except when it comes to that creepy kidnapper next door who drives the green Dodge molester van, but let’s pretend I didn’t just go there).
I’ve always considered myself a gold member of the “Without-a-Generation” club. As such, I’m not the least bit concerned with societal mileage.
If you want to feel young and feed your kid at heart, go take your best friend’s 5-year-old out for a banana split. If you want to make a few of your own wrinkles disappear, take your friends really wrinkled 93-year-old father out for a Good Humor bar. And on the days when you want to feel the exact age you feel on the inside, invite your best friend over, break out the pints, make a sheet fort in your living room, stay up way past your bed time and make prank calls. When you selflessly do things for others, it feeds your spirit and along with it, the spirit of attraction, turning you into an attraction magnet. You’ll begin to attract not only what you need, but also what you want. And, you never know, you just might end up talking to Mr. Right on the other end of that prank call.