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What follows, then, is a woman’s guide to the inner workings of a man’s brain. Read it and weep. And, just a short note to my male readers–please don’t hate me because I am honest.
For many Jews, the High Holidays can be fraught with feelings of sadness, loneliness, and regret. And that goes double if you’re a chicken doomed to end up as soup. Or don’t know what fraught means. But even for us humans, one of the reasons for this holiday melancholy is our tendency to idealize High Holidays and synagogue services past, succumbing to precious memories of friends and relatives who’ve moved away, grown away, or passed away. We’d give anything for one more holiday meal with them. Even Uncle Jake, with his same corny jokes and pull-my-finger trick every meal.
There aren’t many outstanding “inter-political” couples we can look up to. Up until last year we could cite Republican Arnold Schwarzenegger and Democrat Maria Shriver as peaceful partners, but they’ve since said “hasta la vista, baby.” Arnold’s back making movies and Maria’s no doubt back dating human-sized men.
As I mentioned in last month’s column, wooing in a romantic relationship is apparently either on its way out, or has been out for a long, long time. But apparently that doesn’t always mean that delaying sexual gratification is on its way out. It just means that wooing may have been replaced by a little something called “establishing a foundation of friendship.” One difference – wooing generally originated from the man; the desire or request for the foundation of friendship invariably originates from the woman.
I wish I lived 200 years ago so I could woo a woman the way single men did back then. Who even uses the word “woo” anymore, much less knows what it means? Who even gives much thought at all to what they say to the opposite sex? Maybe Kanye West, but the rest of us – not so much. The media and the MTV generation and life’s increasingly rapid pace have pretty much finished off traditional courtship, replacing “wooing” with “hitting on” or “coming on to” or “making your move.” It’s so sad. Where’s the poetry? Where’s the passion? Where’s the heart? For many of us men, unfortunately, it’s all in our pants. Okay, I’ll speak for myself.
According to a recent research study, three of the hardest things on the planet are diamonds, iron, and dating after divorce. After your divorce, you pretty much have to go back to school. You need to relearn how to love and trust, which is increasingly more difficult in our disposable-relationship society. Women know that if any man cannot provide what they want, the next man who can provide it could be just one JDate click away.
The weekend had arrived, romance was in the air, and after several hard days at work, I was so in the mood for love. I was looking good, feeling good, had a wallet filled with cash, and was ready, willing and able to do anything my hot, beautiful date desired. Life was filled with sweet potential. There was just one tiny problem – I didn’t have a hot, beautiful date. Despite all the bounty on JDate, I didn’t have a date, period. I was the sequel to Sleepless in Seattle. I was Dateless in Los Angeles.
It was a warm April afternoon – the kind of afternoon that said, “Kick off your shoes, pick up the Talmud, pour yourself a cup of borscht with a dollop of sour cream, and while the day away.” But I was not to have the relaxing pleasure of that kind of afternoon. Not that day. For there was a knock at the door. Oh, by the way, my name is Rabinowitz. Shlomo Rabinowitz. And I’m a JPE — Jewish Private Eye. My specialty? Affairs of the heart.
JMag contributor Mark Miller loves Jewish women! Of course, that’s no surprise. As Miller points out, there is a unique connection to a shared culture, history, religion and tradition that just fits. And although Miller has certainly dated his share of non-Jewish women, he has plenty of reasons to believe he will ultimately wind up with a Jewish woman. Do you love Jewish women too? Read his column and then share what it is about Jewish women that makes you love them as well!
Psssst… I have a confession to make, and I have to get it off my chest. Not only do I not have the typical male problem of an inability to commit to a romantic relationship; I seem to have the exact opposite syndrome. You see, I commit way too often and too easily. Say I’m on a coffee date that appears to be going well. The woman is attractive, the conversation intelligent, entertaining and flows smoothly. You might think she’s interested in me. I certainly do.