dads who date

Good Morning,

The other day on the phone I asked my dad if he remembered what Judy was wearing on their first date. After a moments hesitation, he said, "yes, she was wearing a gray pant suit and a pink sweater top."

I've since tried to figure out what my response would have been..."uh, pants and something pink."

...yes, genetics is a funny thing.

in honor of their upcoming ONE YEAR dating anniversary, i thought i'd re-run the story of how they met : ).

Happy Monday,
Amanda

***********************

March 2007

INTRO

My dad has been divorced for six years not once has there been a “meet the kids” date. I thought I would give him a strong healthy push in that direction when I was home last weekend for his 60th birthday.

Project/Activity: Set your divorced dad (or mom) up on an on-line dating service

Previous Attempts: 1

EPISODE: "I am Never without a Flower and a Good Book"

START

You might think having someone who is crafty would be helpful to my dad in filling out his profile. Here I will admit (only temporarily) that I have been involved in the on-line dating scene. I made up my own profile. Here was the last message I received in my Inbox:

“I like to chat with you some time, i founf your profile interesting and would like to know more. However 1 question r u a black women?”

This and several other things I did not share with my dad as we sat huddled on folding chairs in front of the computer.

Although uncertain about my abilities to help craft a dateable profile, I was sure about the importance of attracting a good woman.

She would possibly be that someone sharing the Thanksgiving table with us.

She needed to be someone I could imagine wiping his bum when he’s 80…

And most importantly she’s going to be the one responsible for buying him the BIG Christmas present.

“Okay, so we’re looking for…a goood picture of you Dad.” (that is, deeper considerations are quickly abandoned when presents are involved).

“Do I have one?” he said.

“Yes, of course you do.” They were conspicuously marked in a folder labeled Dad photos. Evidence that my brother had organized the first on-line dating effort. In the pace of snails and slugs, the simple head shot uploaded to the site.

It did not take a supersleuth to determine why my dad's initial foray into the world of on-line dating was not a success. He has a dial-up connection and a Wal-Mart e-mail account...(helloooo ladies) I haven’t checked the books on this one yet but, I’d say the odds were 1 in 87 billion that he would succeed.

Anyway,

There is a certain amount of excitement in filling out the profile. The opportunity to create someone…you’ve never been.

“Dad, how tall are you?”

“5’11”

I am 5’9 when I’d hugged my dad the previous morning we were eye-to-eye.

“Since when? If you’re 5’11 then I get to be 6’0.” We settled on a healthy 5’10.

“Weight?” Here the drop down box gives options: slender, average, muscular, few extra pounds

“Well, slender.”

Most men might hesitate at using this term, not my dad. I tried explaining the feminine connotation of this word suggesting that “slender” along with his interests in decorating, flowers and dancing might not be an adequate counterbalance to his qualities in the man department…

This is something I like about my dad. He did not care. A man proud to be slender not average—that’s my dad!

The online dating profile is the opportunity to bring forth your best self. Here’s a bit of “entercation” (i.e. entertainment/education)

In filling out a profile from an alternative perspective…

It’s fun to feel above the dating scene. It’s no fun to be in it. It’s a little worse when you are disabled and even more when you identify as Buddhist. I always want to save on the complications later. There will be no Thanksgiving dinner announcements. There will be no when are we going to tell your parents about all this?

Questions I’ve had…

Do you keep files on people?

How do you introduce yourself?

How do you present your “self” as a commodity when you’re Buddhist?

As you can see the situation is complex.

This is why I enjoy hearing that for my dad and others like him a “deal breaker”can be simple things like a bad hairdo... (still one of life's biggest concerns).

There was a time when I wanted to learn a formal dance for a friend’s wedding. My dad is a good dancer (specify ballroom…). He came to Columbus and accompanied me for my “graduation” lesson. At the Dance school, the floor was replete with young couples and the older set I assumed practicing for competitions and weddings.

…the instructor was adamant yet patient as we waltzed across the floor to Dad’s lead. Dad went glide, glide, giddy-up and I went STOMP STOMP STOMP. “Dad listen to the instructor. We’re taking a lesson!”

Dad’s ability to take the lead did not apply to dating profiles…our efforts lagged and lulled. His face flashed a look of concern and mental faculties halted to a complete stop at our next section of the profile—YOUR DATE--the place to provide characteristics and attributes of the person you would ideally like to meet.

The question about keeping a file on someone?...in theory it was answered. My dad was able to produce a prototype from his first on-line dating effort that didn’t pan out. He still had her profile.

Pure gold. I asked if I could see it. Dad hesitated, looking a bit sick and stricken. I promised not to tease, judge or tell anyone (oops). She was/is an attractive lady, slender, nice smile. From her stated interests she indeed earned her title “Classyladyfriend.” (*name changed to protect the innocent).

At times having this made things far easier than perhaps they should have been. Dad and his Classyladyfriend were going to have profiles that look like they got stuck in the ditto machine.

At other times having the profile made things MUCH MUCH harder…

When we arrived at the Turn Ons/Turn Offs section

Dad sat clutching his profile. In his eyes I thought I saw a spark of hope. Knowing a parent’s turn-ons/turn offs…I thought, this is guaranteed to turn me off to anything for the next 32 years. We settled on tattoos and body piercings Turn Offs, dancing and romantic dinners Turn Ons. The rest he would just have to wait until later and fill out on his own.

“What makes me unique? What makes me special?”

It is sad that Dad had to ask this question. I had a memory full of a daughter’s words but these words only seem to matter when spoken. They fail to endear or compel when crammed into a dialog box 350 characters or less—but the heck if I wouldn’t try!

I lovingly encouraged my dad to go away and think about what made him special while I worked some magic into the profile. (an artist must be left to her work…). Five minutes later, my dad returned and proudly handed me a little note with some penciled down items (underlined).

Christmas

Flowers (double underlined--*very important)

Reading a new book every week

Cleaning house

I proudly turned in my seat. “Okay Dad, I’ll look at that but first listen to what I wrote.” I smiled all the love and encouragement I could muster after ventilating some of the extra heat I’d generated underneath my sweatshirt. I was hot, tired and ready for Father-Daughter Day Activity number two- Go with dad to the recreation center for a good workout!

Dad stood nonplussed, a quizzical look in his expression after I finished my dramatic reading.

“Oh so you wrote it like a book there…I mean can’t I just say I like Christmas?”

I’m not sure where I ever got this idea that life needed to be so complicated. I put away (my marker board, quill pen and etching stone) the careful crafting tools of the wordsmith and simply wrote a new headline and front page teaser.

Posted and pending approval from the Website, Dad’s headshot now appeared with the headline:

“I am never without a flower and a good book.”

And underneath…

“I like Christmas. Let’s clean house together.”

I must say this was a strange kind of power I did not enjoy. The technically incompetent should not have to suffer.

“What did you do?” My dad asked. “What does it (the profile) say now?”

“Well, Dad, reading it says…you’re a woman.”

Panic.

"Okay, okay we’ll change it." On the third attempt we arrived at a satisfactory profile.

I left him with instructions on how to cancel the account and remove the profile should word leak into the community that he’s out a lookin’ for the ladies on-line.

And thus ends my submission for a Brownie badge. Happy Girl Scouts Week and Happy Monday. Your Troop Leader,
Amanda

angry winter dance!

Good Morning,

This is the time of year when I think...okay, either this weather or this disability just need to go away! (Mitty can stay : ).

http://homepage.mac.com/amv12/iMovieTheater33.html

Happy Monday,

Amanda

*good news- my drain is now unclogged. the ID tag is now on mitty's collar.

**quicktime player might take multiple clicking : (

The backup dancer

Good Morning,

I'd like to introduce you to my backup dancer. Currently, she has NOT been invited to go on tour with me largely due to artistic differences and lewd behavior (e.g., poking, scratching herself).

http://homepage.mac.com/amv12/iMovieTheater32.html

hope it's fun.

Happy Monday,

Amanda & Mitty : )

choreography or let's get it ON!

Refresher

*the "hot trainer" asked me to help her plan her new aerobics/hip hop class
*the "hot trainer" is straight...she does not know I'm gay

"Choreography or Let's Get in ON!"

There was a wood floor with panels so fresh they were springy and cracked with each step, a large store front window looking out into a steadily trafficked parking lot, and every manner or fitness accessory equipment awaiting on the sides. A whole stack of padded banquet chairs…most likely for the "SeniorSneakers" Fitness Class I’ve enjoyed watching on Monday mornings in the past, sat in the corner.

"Are ya ready! Are ya ready!"

"Oh yeah, I’m feelin’ it."

Here's Mel’s personality. She is younger than me, 26 years old. She has a contagious energy that can be witnessed throughout the gym. I've often watched as she’s high fived her clients, encouraging them with shout outs…AWESOME, ONE MORE! AWESOME! She doesn’t bubble. She kind of gets overtaken with some childish charm and then EXPLODES into funny routines that always make people, me included, laugh.

A Fergie song blasted into the room, "what do you think?"

"Oh yes, I like Fergie…" (It’s also kinda slow and I can’t dance to this).

"Okay, so let me tell you what I’m wanting to do with this class." She said, "right now it’s called Sizzle FoSchizzle or something stupid like that…it's going to be for new mom’s…you know give them something sexy they can do for their husbands."

"what?"

No, here’s something she did not tell me. She lies. In the time since our chat on the elliptical machine, the hip hop class had been scratched and Sizzlin’ Sexiness had been re-chisled in its place (chiseled in stone). no technology room...just this Flashdance-sized dance space. But, i've learned there is NO arguing when there’s a clipboard involved.

"You didn’t know what you were getting into did you?" She smiled.

"No, I guess I didn’t."

I admit to being disappointed. My dreams of offering hip hop instruction...feeling a sense of my body as expert again in the flesh quickly faded…

However, I've learned quick recovery skills! I was excited to be co collaborator on this project!

"Great we’re doin’ choreography!" I placed myself at the head of the room, mirror at my back. I'd appointed myself head choreographer.

I instructed "hip hop does not equal sensual dance. Hip hop has popping, locking and freezes. The attitude is like that of krumpers…in your face! In the seductive dance, one wants smooth, flowing lines, to be alluring…"

I pulled out my best set of moves…the "oh no you didn’t" head roll, popping and locking, start the lawnmower…

We quickly agreed yeah that’s not it.

She looked to me for more moves. I was out of them.

"Alright," she rallied, "we need a routine!"

We agreed we would need something that would work well in a confined space...such as the bedroom.

"It’s really all about the attitude."

She shook her head dutifully, grabbed the clipboard, and prepared to write.

"How about you start with a simple shoulder roll?" I demonstrated.

"I like it! I like it!" She scribbled and encouraged.

"Well, then you got to loosen up your hips."

"Like this?" She rolled up through her hips.

okay yep we're warmed up...

"No, no, show me how you did that!"

And, i don’t know why exactly I said this but here’s what came out. “Mel I am a very inhibited individual!" but I tried anyway.

After admiring my move, she laughed.

"I think we need to go to a stripclub for our next project. Can you imagine you and me in there? We’d be like (embarrased...looking at the floor)."

"no i can't. that would be bad." (how gay do i feel right now?)

"ooh i know, maybe we need a different song!" She ran over to the largest piece of equipment in the room, a sound system roughly the size of a refrigerator, squatted her booty in my direction and played...

Sexual Healing (Marvin Gaye)

get up, get up, get up, get up
wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
aw baby let's get down tonight...

She yelled “It’s gonna get a little racey in here! A-lo and I are gonna get it on now aren’t we A-lo!"

a wayward jump roper and a young man pushing a floor mop...smiling goofily had joined us.

"yes. we're gonna be doin' somethin."

the mopper and jump roper broke out into smiles.

Back to the choreography!

She raced back! "I'm sweatin' now!"

She focused. "How am I gonna get down to the floor?" We settled for the knee slide. (Not the third grader knee slide but some Shakira/Beyonce version)

"Okay, how about if then I do this…" she kicked her legs in a fanning motion lifting one leg over the other until she ended up in a seated cross-legged position.

"Okay on you that was very good but not everybody’s going to look good doing that."

She laughed. "That’s what I love about you. You get right to the point sometimes." We shared a laugh as she acted out the unfortunate souls inhibited bedroom behavior. The hilarity brought her to standing and then carried over into a bawdy but entertaining combination of moves.

I got to yell “fly girl” and high five her at the end…

Getting back to business!

Seated in a squatting position…she looked perplexed. "Maybe I will need to have a little crawling…How would you do it?"

"Oh well, you know...(very poorly) so he’s gonna have to help her out a little. Maybe he should just like go over there and…help her up." (eerrrt, not good Mav! Not good!)

She looked surprised, "yeah and then uh. Uh. Uh."

I laughed.

"okay. (Crawl, crawl) How was that?"

"That was awesome, veery good." For a moment she had actually looked afraid and vulnerable. "...just be veeery careful when you use that with the mom’s. you don't want them getting laughed at."

Next, we tried various poses and positions to bring her to standing.

"How about you kind a snake up and do that hip roll thing again?" And I will work on not looking or (what’s a harmless little fantasy?). I looked. No staring.

How hard is it not to stare in these moments? At times mind boggling. Other times no problem at all. I just focus on MY body...(immediate mood killer)

"What's next?" she said.

I could only think of one thing. "well, we’ve done away, away, away..now we need you presenting coming toward him."

"Yeah you’re right! Cause right now he’s gonna be ready to rip her clothes off!"

definitely. i mean yes, that could happen.

We penciled in 2 walk ups, turn and look over shoulder. (step, step, step)

(How lucky is this Greg guy?…oh mercy)

This simply came out...

"Oooo good. Good. Very good." with clapping. "He’s gonna love it!"

"Now what?"

"Oh I don’t think you need to do more…cause like you said, he’s gonna just rip her clothes off."

I reminded her we’d already ruled out imaginary pole dancing. These are new mom’s not hoochie mama’s. We ended the routine on a playful yet racy note.

…butt out, feet together, hands on knees which i'm quite certain works only in the straight bedroom.

"Alright, one time all the way through!" (to make sure she had it). She raced over to reset the music. I had not moved from my position. not sure I could've...

"well?" she said.

I'm still a little speechless from watching the whole routine unfold.

"oh wow, thank you, you were great! wonderful."

"No, no Thank you, thank you soooo much," she said. "Let me know if you can think of anything else for us to do..."

I left clinging to the choreography notes in my sweaty hand.

I assured her no, I cannot think of anything else.

Happy Monday,

A-Lo

"Outtro Music-Marvin Gaye “Let’s Get it On” : )

http://homepage.mac.com/amv12/iMovieTheater31.html
*re-enactment

a gym experience or i am queen of hop

Here’s something I learned about myself last week. I will agree to anything after 30min. of running on the elliptical machine…

News or Update:

*The "hot trainer" was asked to start an aerobics class.

*The "hot trainer" has seen videos of my Monday Morning hip hop.

*The "hot trainer" is straight...she does not know I’m gay.

Since our workouts, Melanie the "hot trainer" and I have become casual friends at the gym. Upon returning from Christmas break, she shared pictures of her trip to Poland with boyfriend Greg and I "oooed and ahhed" reflexively over the happy announcement that “He PROPOSED!”

Making my way out of the locker room i saw her doing spirited catwalk poses for her photo shoot. The trainers are updating their files and she needed a new "pic." I needed to…get a grip. "Oh my g--!" I went walking off in all directions managing to catch myself at the water fountain. Could she please not do that! I’d since placed her in my head, in that area reserved for "all straight women hot but not SEXY."

Making my way over to the elliptical…trusty #23, she caught up to me.

"Hey A-lo what’s up! Girl!"

I was not used to being called A-lo in public. Underneath it all i was most certain she knew me as sweaty girl at the gym who always wears that Auburn sweatshirt and walks into things.

"I’m gettin’ where I need to be!" I said.

"How’s it goin’. What you been doin?’"

It was noticeable she was talking slang. Why the slang? But she’s cute so hey?

"Mind if we chat a little?" she flashed a smile.

"no." (I was still getting where I needed to be so I was not chatty). I offered that i'd been "layin' low."

Finally, I lithely hopped up on the running machine…

She hopped up beside me. Whatcha been doin’? What’s new with you?"We’d already talked about this so I was failing. "Well, I started a new job…"

"I saw your new moves!!!"

I was embarrassed to know this live, hot, physically beautiful body, I mean person had seen me dance.

The moment was awkward. “oh yeah,…did you see the boxing?” she had helped improved my hip hop skills with boxing lessons.

"Yeah that’s awesome man!"

"uh-huh." Somehow i had become old-ladyish...like Judy Dench in Notes on a Scandal...She never really has a little time for me really. There’s always a client to run off to, some “trainers meeting” to attend…and then of course became me again...I mean
come on really, they sit in a circle on those big rubber balls. That’s no meeting. it’s a a adult b-day party at McDonald’s! I had memories/visions of the behind the counter tour and kids popping balloons in the Ronald room.

Minutes of awkward running passed. I could see the slow hitch in her stride and feel the hesitation in her sideways glance.

We were doing an even more awkward, I want to ask you something but I really don’t know how you’re going to feel about it dance…

i looked over "but really, what's new with you?" and stared quickly back at the heartbeat on the screen.

"Yeah, I’ve been wanting to talk to because your moves are awesome. I didn’t know you were such a good dancer. I want to ask you something…I need you to show me your moves man. I don’t know. I’m thinking of starting a class for mom’s you know…like a Striptease class. I mean it needs a new name but you know for mom’s who don’t feel sexy for their husbands anymore. You know I think it would be awesome to help them get that back."

"Aw man yes, that is awesome! Yes, it’s good to feel sexy in the bedroom." (oh god oh god oh god…how gay do I feel right now).

It was still unclear how I fit into this picture.

She said, "Have you seen the new room? There’s a huge meeting room and small rooms for classes and stuff…it’s awesome! We have video and projectors…I’ll have to take you back there sometime…"

It was sounding dangerously and a bit too gloriously like a scene from the L word. You want me to go with you alone to a darkened room to show you my dance moves? I thought I’d died and been embodied as Carmen? Or dare I think the ultimate lesbian lover Shane?

Sadly my brain was much too practical. I could not stay on what’s good (a harmless little fantasy?) and only focused on MY body. I had to tell her that no I had indeed not been back there and I was really looking forward to the vast new wonders of this new world in multi-media technology.

I said, "Sure that sounds cool. I can show you some hip hop!" (ug, where's my freak flag when i need it)

"Awesome man awesome! Yeah, I really want to do something for mom’s. you know give them back that sense of urrh. (chicka-bow wow...porn music)

I don’t mean crawling on the floor or anything…but you know."

No in that bedroom she’d just described I really didn’t. I don’t know why I said this but here’s what came out--"You mean poles? You want them dancing with poles?"

She laughed, "maybe if I could get them." Then came the even bigger question. "Do you think you could help teach…maybe I’d do it one night then you’d do a couple?"

Here is where I started to laugh. "You want me to stand up in front of a group of new mom’s to show them how to feel sexy for their husbands?"

"Well maybe you know just a hip hop class."

And somehow that sounded doable. "Okay maybe maaaybe I’m interested but…"

NO BUTS! "Okay when do you want to meet? We can go back to the room...kick around some ideas. You can show me some things."

"No," I thought, "really, I can’t." (I think my head will explode).

But I’ve been tutored well…so I said,

"How about I’ll like tell you how to do the moves and then you can like demonstrate? I can watch and tell you if you’re doing them right."

She liked the idea. : )

So, today at 3pm. I will be…helping my trainer plan her hip hop class which I might help teach and more important…watching a hot straight girl do some dancing for me…i am queen of Hop!

Happy Monday,

A-lo