I feel a lot like Peanut.
dating
I tried to make up for being short by affecting a strut, by adopting the voice of a much bigger man, by spending more money than I made, by tipping double or triple at bars and restaurants, by dating tall, beautiful women. —Mickey Rooney
There has always been discrimination in dating, but when that discrimination turns to blatant racism we need to examine our motives
I’m not too big on giving dating advice for the simple fact that dating is not something I have to do with any great frequency. Sure, I’ve had enough duds and disappointments to understand the emotions attached, but I don’t have the endless horror stories that I know some people experience, either. My criteria are fairly simple: she has to be smart, attractive enough that I’m not afraid to take her picture, and not likely to crush me if she slips and falls. Kat fills those requirements quite nicely along with several bonus points. I’m happy, thank you.
I never was any good at all the dating apps everyone seems to think are the solution to their relationship problems, though. Over the years, I think I’ve tried them all. Match never sparked anything. eHarmony outright turned me down. Plenty of Fish tended to smell. And Tinder left me totally depressed when no one ever swiped right. Yawn. Over it. I fail to see the attraction.
Apparently I’m an anomaly, though, or maybe I’m just too old. For people Kat’s age and younger, those apps are a significant part of their lives and reading their profiles can be very revealing. Sometimes, perhaps a bit more revealing than they intended. While we expect people to be a bit discriminating in whom they might choose to date, when that discrimination turns to blatant racism then perhaps it’s time we seriously started questioning who we are.
Since I’m not on any dating apps regularly, I didn’t realize there was a problem until the issue popped up on The Daily Show this past week. Host Trevor Noah has not been shy in tackling the topic of racism at all levels of society, which is necessary. Too many people think we have gotten past racism when in fact it is still just as entrenched as ever, we just make more of an effort to hide it. At least, we did until this presidential election cycle in which being racist seems to be a key plank in some candidates’ platform. The Daily Show’s  Jessica Williams and Ronny Chieng applied their usual humor in exploring the topic. Take a look:
While the piece made me chuckle a few times, it also caused me to wonder just how widespread this problem of dating racism actually is. After all, I can see where the larger the sample, such as in New York or LA, the more frequently one might see the problem. Do the same signs show up in the Midwest as well? I knew the answer before I asked the question, but I went ahead and verified my suspicions anyway.
Checking up on racist dating isn’t easy for an aging white guy to do. First, I had to go back to all those apps, re-install them, and then request my passwords. Then, after updating my profiles a bit, with new pictures and such, I started looking at the profiles each app thought I should consider. Sure enough, the second profile I hit started with, “white guys only please.” Going on through, some were even more aggressive. “Asian men can keep their small dicks to themselves,” and, “Don’t talk to me if your whole family isn’t white.” Then, there were those who were outright offensive. I won’t bother repeating them. I spent less than 30 minutes on all the apps combined and found over 20 openly racist profiles.
What this shows is that not only are we more racist than I had realized, we’re also incredibly hypocritical. Ask people what they look for in a good relationship and they’ll almost always come back with the standard altruistic qualifiers such as kindness, intelligent, funny, hard working, good with children, and other such nonsense. Based on the profiles I saw, what women are really looking for is someone rich enough to take them nice places, has a house big enough for all their kids and pets, drives a nice car, is down for some kinky shit in the bedroom, and, oh yeah, had better be the right race.
A couple of things worth noting at this point. Obviously, being a straight male, I didn’t see any of the other guys’ profiles. I doubt I would be surprised, though. I’ve met too many men in the Midwest who wear their racism like a badge of honor. Also, the racist statements weren’t limited to white women. Black women, at least those in my immediate area, make the same statements against Hispanic and Asian men as do white women. Dating racism isn’t just “a white girl thing.”
What hurts is that we know better. There’s not a single one of us who wasn’t taught from the time we were very tiny that who we love isn’t a matter of looks or physical attraction, but a matter of hearts that are passionate for each other. I’ve often told Kat that I dislike the question, “Why do you love me?” Real love, where it dares to exist, has no qualifiers. We don’t love someone because they’re pretty, or tall, or a certain race. When we honestly, earnestly love someone, it is because we choose to love them. Period. End of statement. Love that must come with qualifications cannot be real for love must be pure or it doesn’t exist at all.
I know dating is difficult for a lot of people and yes, we are going to be naturally discriminating about certain qualities we find attractive. If we are being blatantly racist in our search, though, not only are we cutting ourselves off from really wonderful people, we’re also presenting ourselves as someone who hates. No one wants to date a hater. Someone who appears attractive on the outside and has hate on the inside is not someone most of us want even in our circle of acquaintances. No one needs a hater in their life.
This exercise made me really appreciate not being out in the dating scene. I saw a lot on those apps that was unattractive in so very many ways. I was rather shocked at how people chose to present themselves. Maybe it’s time for everyone to take a step back and consider who and what they really are. Find the hate and get the fuck over it. Not only will you be better for it, I dare say you’ll find the rest of the world more accepting as a result.
Good luck.
Secrecy is the enemy of efficiency, but don’t let anyone know it. —Ric Ocasek
Millennials are having sex sooner and more often than previous generations, all due to efficiency
File this one under “reasons I’m glad I’m not dating anymore.” For anyone of my generation, or even the generation just younger than me, the manner and means in which Millennials and Gen-Zers are dating and “hooking up” is so dramatically different from the tactics and standards we used as to seem incredibly odd and unnatural. What they’re doing, though, is using available technology to maximize the efficiency of the one night stand.
There are a couple of articles you’ll want to read in order to truly understand what’s going on here. The first appeared in Vanity Fair last September, Writer Nancy Jo Sales looked at what she considers to be the “end of dating” largely because of mobile apps such as Tinder that make “hooking up” much easier than actually going out somewhere and meeting someone. The second was published yesterday on Mashable. Author Mandy Stadtmiller extends from the platform of the VF article to explore exactly how quickly those hookups happen, often without even having met each other. The common tie between the articles is the need for efficiency.
If we need to get real about young adults having sex, let’s do that now: They always have. Let’s not pretend that there was a generation somewhere back in the 50s where everyone remained virginal until they walked down the aisle to get married. The statistics have remained fairly steady since they were first studied over 70 years ago. Young adults like having sex and there’s not much that can stop them. Through every post-WWII generation, 60-65% of all 18-25-year-olds had sex at least once while dating. Don’t let your grandmother’s tales of chastity fool you.
For my generation, there was an unspoken three-date rule for having sex, and that rule has held as the standard for quite a while. Three dates give one time to get to know another person and decide whether there’s even a remote chance of a longer-term relationship. Of course, that’s assuming that there’s actually meaningful dialogue during the dates, which doesn’t always happen. I’m sure we all know someone who just endured the dates to get to the sex. Maybe it was you. Let’s not be naive. Young adult passions haven’t changed.
Dating apps, however, have suddenly shortened the time frame. Whereas we used to make fun of and joke about online dating, apps such as Tinder and Hinge have become so commonplace and easy to use that the stigma of online dating is completely gone. Instead, millennials see it as a way to cut through the clutter without having to endure the horrendous dates. Rather, couples who match on an app begin texting each other, which quickly becomes sexting, which quickly leads to sex. Fast. Efficient. Easy.
Efficiency isn’t the only factor at work here. Underlying the need for efficiency is an attitude of immediate gratification. Millennials are that generation, after all, who want everything now: the nice car, the big house, the exotic vacations, the designer clothes. Waiting for anything isn’t a part of their nature so we shouldn’t be surprised at all that they would want their sex without waiting as well.
We should also note that these hookups are in no way intended to take the place of long-term relationships. Millennials put those longer, more meaningful relationships in a different category than the quick sex hookups from Tinder. The longer relationship is something they’re willing to put in the future, after age 25, or even after the age of 30. The one thing millennials don’t want right now is to settle down.
What they do want, however, is efficiency in their sexual liaisons. I was rather taken aback by some of the forwardness mentioned in the two articles. Conversations went from, “Hi, you’re cute,” to “Send me a dick pic,” in fewer than five exchanges. Addresses and phone numbers were exchanged in less than 10. Chats were almost immediately sexual with seemingly no concern about personality or personal interests or any of the other things that typically draw two people together. Had I attempted such a conversation when I was of that age I would have most certainly had my face slapped. Efficiency matters now, though, and no one seems inclined to wait until the other person asks where they work before hopping into bed with them.
Which brings us back to the problem of people my age who find themselves single, again, perhaps for the third or fourth time. The rules have not only changed, the very mechanics have changed. Trolling for a one-night-stand at a nightclub is passé. See a pretty girl or attractive guy at a bar, chances are they’re looking at their phone, and chances are they’re going through Tinder. They’re not interested in the people around them because that’s not efficient. Older singles who don’t understand that significant shift in attitudes find themselves using the wrong tactics in an attempt to attract people who are too distracted to bother noticing. No wonder older singles end up depressed, lonely, and often suicidal.
This is a very different generation of young people from those who have gone before. Technology has made their lives more efficient. They order fast food before they get to Taco Bell. They expect their Uber to be waiting when they walk out the door. They have a lot going on and efficiency is the key to making it all happen right now. There’s no time for subtleties. Either your DTF or they’re moving on.
And if you don’t understand what DTF means, you’re not even in the game. Don’t bother.
As much as I’m not a journalist, I use journalism. And when you photograph a relationship, it’s quite wonderful to let something unfold in front of you.—Annie Leibovitz
[one_half padding=”4px 10px 0 4px”]Relationship can be a dangerous word. Neither Kat nor I have anything listed under “relationship status” on social media, and that isn’t likely to change any time too terribly soon. We both hate mushy, public displays of oh-my-significant-other-is-so-wonderful and we laugh and roll our eyes when we somehow still manage to find ourselves being that couple. We’ve both had relationships before, so this isn’t new. Unexpected might be a better word.
Almost three years have passed since Kat and I first met. Once we started talking to each other, we never stopped. Interestingly enough, the one thing we were both fairly sure did not actually exist was love. Having tried the relationship thing before and failed miserably, we were neither one convinced that this whole love thing was even possible. Mutual attraction? Sure. Long-term tolerance for the sake of companionship? Absolutely. Actual love? Nah, it’s a myth.
Okay, so we might have been wrong. We’re not the first two people in the history of the world to start a relationship without giving in to what we were pretty sure was a myth. Once that opinion changed, we still didn’t want to be all mushy about it. After all, there’s 25 years difference in our ages. We get strange looks just holding hands in public, and that typically has less to do with relationship and more to do with my damn legs not wanting to hold me upright. The expression on people’s faces when we do kiss in public is annoying. Of course, the expression on our faces when we see couples kissing in public is pretty annoying as well. Mush. Blech.[/one_half]
[one_half_last padding=”4px 4px 0 10px”]An interesting thing happened as more acquaintances figured out that Kat and I were actually a couple; the disbelief of those friends on the fringe became anger, or jealousy, or something else not exactly in the category of accepting. For Kat, there was a sudden rush of would-be suitors who suddenly felt the need to declare that they had loved her first, they just hadn’t gotten around to saying anything yet. One guy even hilariously assumed that she only liked me for my money. We still laugh about that one.
On my end, though, the response to our relationship was more silent; Â the kind of silence that occurs when one witnesses something horrible happening right in front of them. Some just stopped talking. Others unfriended and blocked me on social media. And those who are still emotionally stuck in high school talked behind our backs, but not to our faces. Â While no one terribly close was involved, the response is still disappointing. We thought we had chosen only intelligent acquaintances.
Three years in, our relationship status isn’t likely to change. I’m more surprised than anyone that this relationship thing has actually happened because I was so very convinced it wasn’t possible. What we’ve learned is that love does exist, that we’re not on some existential list of doom, and that it’s rather entertaining when I tell the doctor Kat’s my fiancé, not my daughter. To those who still have a problem with us, I have but one word for you: Goodbye.[/one_half_last]