As surprising as it may be to some of you, older people do indeed like to be in the company of the opposite sex. As much as they try our very souls we simply never age to the point where they are no longer worth the trouble.
And trouble they are. If I had news that all the ladies were taking the low road I'd be first in line for the high. They are a crazy lot and beyond understanding. They bedazzle and beguile us with their wiles then leave us wondering what the hell is on their minds.
The problem lies in the fact that men are simple creatures. Basically we're looking for something to eat, preferably with some kind of cheese or gravy sauce on top, a game to watch and the occasional roll in the hay. Women are under the impression that there is more. This creates friction. They will go off and read some magazine that has this months list of 10 things they don't know about men, take it to heart and then try to fix us. This creates more friction.
A woman can buy a piece of clothing then try it on with every other piece of clothing she has to see how they go together. This is fine. The problem occurs when she drags us into the thing by asking us how each and every one of the combos looks on her. This usually occurs during a game. She knows we're distracted and can't give her the full attention that this fashion show deserves, yet she persists. The other oddity is that every day she sees the way we choose to dress ourselves. We do not possess the necessary skills to judge an ensemble. Knowing this one can't help but be puzzled by how she can value our opinion.
Another area where they are trouble is when they want to do the things we do to increase "quality time". If you play sports then you know what I mean. When I first met my girlfriend she told me that she bikes. Splendid, said I. Let's go for a ride sometime.
On our first ride the problems were immediate. Moving from spot to spot was adventurous. She was capable of starting off but only after several shaky beginnings, then once rolling she could only pedal and focus straight ahead. She could not coast. She gripped the handlebars like an alligator clamps onto its prey, making her progression a rather jerky affair.
Stopping had it's own peculiarities. She could manage the brakes ok but the entire feet on the ground thing had gotten the better of her. Not really knowing how to do it she would take both feet off the pedals and wait til she tipped to one side or the other. When the tipping didn't come fast enough she would remove herself from the saddle and proceed to use the bike as a Draisine, running along with the thing while trying to keep her legs out far enough to not whack the pedals.
On further investigation she revealed that she had only recently started biking and had never ridden one as a child.
In the past I've had girlfriends who wanted to play tennis because I play and actually taught it for awhile. Usually this would result in one summer of reduced play time while I spent hours and hours with her trying to teach her the finer points of the game, or at least how to hit the ball. Fortunately this would pass after a summer and their interest would wane.
Biking does not allow for this. Even a bad biker can enjoy the ride. Now the weekends of heading out for a 40 mile ride must be planned around a 10 mile, stop for lunch, jaunt in the neighborhood.