The Three Weissmanns Of Westport
May. 13th, 2010 02:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ericcolemanBob Lefsetz is generally a music blogger. But sometimes he writes about other things. This is brilliant. Not that I have ever been through this ... no not me.
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Love comes naturally to some. Their sunniness draws the opposite sex to them. Sometimes even the same sex. And they field the approach like Derek Jeter, scooping it up naturally, like there's absolutely no danger.
Then there are the rest of us. With the same pains in our loins. Unrequited.
But it doesn't really happen that way. We stumble along to our interior monologue. Hoping for a partner, but knowing one will not arrive. Until...
The interaction.
It's not premeditated. It's always by chance. When you're natural, unselfconscious, just going about your business, you meet someone. Not that you'd call it that at first. At first it's just a conversation.
But suddenly you realize the other person is listening. Attentively. They're unable to be distracted. They're laughing at your jokes. Making no effort to leave. You get that inner glow of humanness. Oh, THIS is how it's supposed to be.
Maybe the conversation leads to dinner. Not on a different date, but the same date. You're there for a meal at a friend's house. You're at a convention.
And when everybody gets up to leave, you do not. And he or she doesn't either. You're on top of the world.
Then... Do you write, do you call? Are you aggressive, are you passive? How do you play it? It's all so new to you. Or you've been here before, but never been able to figure it out.
You've learned not to be so direct. It just doesn't work. It doesn't come across as confident, but desperate. Your friends tell you to never show your hand, certainly not this early. But this is what you want. You know it.
You eventually make contact. But the response is cryptic. There's always a response, but it isn't quite early enough, not quite enthusiastic enough...do they feel the same way you do?
That's the next phase. Debating what happened in your head. Did you distort it? Or was it truly magic. Was it magic for them?
Then comes the dreaded period of anxiety. When you're desirous of running into them, but praying you don't. Because what will you say? How will you act? They're your future husband or wife, you've envisioned spending the rest of your life with them. Can't you just go up and give them a hug and a kiss?
No, you must act like you don't even know they're there. You must wait for them to find you. You end up with a desire to run.
Or maybe you make a move. And the conversation is good. But something is missing.
Or you keep running into them and the conversation is good, you're elated, but it stops there.
You're tortured. Your friends are sick of hearing the story.
Then, ambling around in your depression, drearily going through the motions of your everyday life, you have the encounter.
Sometimes it's not even them. It's a conversation. Which at first seems innocuous. Then you hear their name spoken and get butterflies. You start to perspire. And suddenly you learn...
They've got someone else.
The lights at the carnival go out. But you're on an endless slide. Down down down to the bottom.
Sometimes it's even worse. You bump into the two of them. And have to act all friendly, put on a happy face.
You eventually get over it. Could take years. Oftentimes with ongoing encounters wherein you have to be cheery on the outside while inside you repeat the mantra this is not magic, this is not magic.
And you vow to get game. You vow not to fall into the trap again. You vow to take control.
But you never do. You watch television. Go to the movies. And wait...
For another serendipitous encounter. When the game begins again.
============================
Ya know ... it makes for good songs.
============================
Love comes naturally to some. Their sunniness draws the opposite sex to them. Sometimes even the same sex. And they field the approach like Derek Jeter, scooping it up naturally, like there's absolutely no danger.
Then there are the rest of us. With the same pains in our loins. Unrequited.
But it doesn't really happen that way. We stumble along to our interior monologue. Hoping for a partner, but knowing one will not arrive. Until...
The interaction.
It's not premeditated. It's always by chance. When you're natural, unselfconscious, just going about your business, you meet someone. Not that you'd call it that at first. At first it's just a conversation.
But suddenly you realize the other person is listening. Attentively. They're unable to be distracted. They're laughing at your jokes. Making no effort to leave. You get that inner glow of humanness. Oh, THIS is how it's supposed to be.
Maybe the conversation leads to dinner. Not on a different date, but the same date. You're there for a meal at a friend's house. You're at a convention.
And when everybody gets up to leave, you do not. And he or she doesn't either. You're on top of the world.
Then... Do you write, do you call? Are you aggressive, are you passive? How do you play it? It's all so new to you. Or you've been here before, but never been able to figure it out.
You've learned not to be so direct. It just doesn't work. It doesn't come across as confident, but desperate. Your friends tell you to never show your hand, certainly not this early. But this is what you want. You know it.
You eventually make contact. But the response is cryptic. There's always a response, but it isn't quite early enough, not quite enthusiastic enough...do they feel the same way you do?
That's the next phase. Debating what happened in your head. Did you distort it? Or was it truly magic. Was it magic for them?
Then comes the dreaded period of anxiety. When you're desirous of running into them, but praying you don't. Because what will you say? How will you act? They're your future husband or wife, you've envisioned spending the rest of your life with them. Can't you just go up and give them a hug and a kiss?
No, you must act like you don't even know they're there. You must wait for them to find you. You end up with a desire to run.
Or maybe you make a move. And the conversation is good. But something is missing.
Or you keep running into them and the conversation is good, you're elated, but it stops there.
You're tortured. Your friends are sick of hearing the story.
Then, ambling around in your depression, drearily going through the motions of your everyday life, you have the encounter.
Sometimes it's not even them. It's a conversation. Which at first seems innocuous. Then you hear their name spoken and get butterflies. You start to perspire. And suddenly you learn...
They've got someone else.
The lights at the carnival go out. But you're on an endless slide. Down down down to the bottom.
Sometimes it's even worse. You bump into the two of them. And have to act all friendly, put on a happy face.
You eventually get over it. Could take years. Oftentimes with ongoing encounters wherein you have to be cheery on the outside while inside you repeat the mantra this is not magic, this is not magic.
And you vow to get game. You vow not to fall into the trap again. You vow to take control.
But you never do. You watch television. Go to the movies. And wait...
For another serendipitous encounter. When the game begins again.
============================
Ya know ... it makes for good songs.
