At a birthday get-together for the lovely and amazing a-d-d-chick, a pair of attractive single women about six years older than me were talking about the hassles of dating. Even though I'm staring into the barrel of it myself, dating in the forties just sounds unappealing and unnatural. I mean, they took "Sex and the City" off the air right before things started to go downhill--if you get my drift. And don't give me that "Forty is the new thirty" crap. Even though it kind of is. At least in L.A.--the land of no tomorrow.
It was in the midst of this conversation that I brought up a plan I've been toying with--to date an older man instead of the younger ones I've always been attracted to (my typical sweet spot being around five years younger than me). I'm not talking Anna Nicole he's-collecting-Social-Security-and-may-not-have-his-own-teeth-anymore old. Not so much May-December as September-December. I look at it this way: no matter how old you are, you'll always have the advantage of being younger than your significant other.
After I explained my theory, I was surprised to see these two women shaking their heads at me grimly.
"No, no, no," they scolded, almost in unison. Then one of them took the lead in explaining.
"You have to get them young, while they're still moldable," she instructed. "Plus, if you date older guys they won't be able to keep up with you physically. Like my ex who couldn't hack it on the hiking trail. They'll have bad backs and health complaints and then you'll end up having to play nursemaid before your time. No, no, no, get them at least the same age or several years younger."
What an eye-opener, I have to say. I'd never considered that angle. Maybe Mrs. Robinson had it right.