“Life’s
not a bitch. Life is a beautiful woman.”
That is my
favorite line from an abstract rapper, Aesop Rock, and it’s also how I feel
about life and the opposite sex. Life is a beautiful struggle, and love with a
stunning woman makes it all worth it.
Several
weeks ago I wrote an article for The
Telegraph about dating in Durango. In the style of journalism, I reported
just the facts, based on what I got out of interviewing single people in
Durango, while also additionally including some more informal thoughts from conversations
with various single friends. Personally, I found it interesting that there are
seemingly an abundance of single women in Durango, for a mountain town anyways,
and many of these women complained about this “Peter Pan syndrome”: men who are
never going to grow up, and are more concerned with skiing and beer than a
relationship.
For
starters, I’m calling bullshit with this whole “Peter Pan syndrome” thing. Not
that many men, including myself, spend as much time as possible recreating in
the outdoors, and are able to hold onto a youth like energy and enthusiasm for
life, but that this somehow trumps the need for a relationship. I mean, we have
our bromances, but bromance alone is just not enough to live upon.
That is why
recently I called a moratorium on my bromances. It was getting to be too much.
I realized this on Valentine’s Day. It was just me and one of my best bros
alone out at Indian Creek. The weather was perfect. There was peace and solitude
in abundance. The moonrise over a quiet camp put me over the edge, “This is too
bromantical,” I said. It was Valentine’s Day and there I was, in the perfect
situation for romance, but I was with my bro. And, thus the bromoratorium
began. No more bromances until I experience some real romance.
By all
accounts of my Midwestern upbringing I should be married and have three to
twelve children, with a boring 9-5, a minivan and a mortgage. I rarely think
much of being 35 and single until I go back to the Midwest and people are
getting married in their early twenties and then poppin’ out babies a couple
years after getting hitched. But I guess I went another way, some people’s
paths to finding a partner take longer than others.
My friend
Matt, a good looking lawyer if I say so myself (oh, wait I said I was done with
the bromances) has this theory: once you decide that you’re done with the
floozies, and want to be in a committed relationship with a life partner,
you’ve got to give yourself around five years to find that person.
Just
recently I’ve truly arrived at the place Matt described. Looking for that
special someone, that one in a million, not that one that is over there at the
bar. Reflecting over my Peter Pan qualities more than one got away. And then
there was The One, but she moved to the east coast, and I chose the mountains
of the west over our love.
For years I
lived in the Gunnison-Crested Butte region, where the dating scene can be
tricky. My friend Nicole, a Gunnison local, told me, “You have to pounce here,
if there’s a new girl in town you have to swoop her up before someone else does”.
So I tried pouncing, and you know what she was right, it works, but pouncing is
not exactly a natural way to start a relationship.
Compared to
the pouncing of the Gunnison Valley, Durango seems chill. It also seems like
New York City compared to Gunny. There’s much more women here, and not just
that there are women who are really looking. So you have to play defense a
little more. When I had a close friend, who is quite charming I must say (who
am I kidding I’m addicted to bromance), moved here I warned him. He thought I
was joking until he lived here for a few months and several women were going
after him. Luckily, he practiced some self-restraint and didn’t turn into a man
whore.
And I’ll
admit I had a brief phase where I went after every woman who came my way when I
first moved here. But I found often dating is like interviewing for a job you
don’t even want. After three years of this in Durango I haven’t found The One, but there is The One I Avoid At The Grocery Store. So
now I’m a little more laid back and selective, waiting for that perfect blip on
the radar. It’s a nice place to be.
To me love
is like cheese, or beer, or anything that is incredible and you can’t really
explain it you just know you want it. Dating gets trickier and there’s less of
a pool the older you get. At 35, the women in their younger twenties are out of
the question, which kinda makes me feel old. Now, I look at a women’s face and
see those crows feet as sign of beauty, the lines of experience that shows
she’s been through similar trials and tribulations of life and love that I
have. I’m okay with some baggage; it must fit in the overhead container, but the
reality is when you’ve reached your mid thirties you’ve been through some
stuff. The longer we live the more stories and experiences we collect.
In my
prime, I often fantasize about one last wild phase of my life, move to New York
City for a year, get crazy, date all sorts of women, but then I stop and think
that there are probably more women in Durango I’d want to date than there are
there. In all of my travels there’s nothing more attractive than the Colorado
Mountain Woman, the one who works hard all week, frolics in the mountains when
she can, and you hold her in your arms when the day is done.
And why are
we so hung up on this Peter Pan thing? That kid’s going to grow up and see what
he’s missing out on. Even if many of us Durango dudes let our inner Peter Pan’s
run wild most of the time, there’s a man inside who’s going to get his way
sooner or later.
This piece is published in this week's Durango Telegraph.
My two books are called: The Great American Dirtbags and Climbing Out of Bed. Click on the titles to view them on Amazon.
