Exhibit One Gets Engaged!

Those of you have been following this blog for awhile know that I have two children. I refer to them as Exhibit One and Exhibit Two. [1]

(The kiddie-winkers!)

This past Friday afternoon while I was driving through Crystal Beach, minding my own business, I received a surprise call on my cell phone from Exhibit One in Israel.

“Hi! I have some news!”

My first reaction was, “Uh oh! Good news or bad news!?”

(Mazal tov! The couple in Jerusalem)

My lovely daughter announced that she was engaged.

I practically drove off the road and into a ditch with excitement.

(Fiancée and fiancé in Jerusalem)

I showered her with mazal tovs. I even got a chance to wish her fiancé a hearty mazal tov!

It was about this time that I noticed a police cruiser following me. I had to quickly end the call. Her Majesty’s government frowns on the use of handheld communication devices while driving.

(Fiancé and fiancée in Yaffo [aka Jaffa])

Exhibit One engaged. Wow!

Luckily for me, I highly approve of the fiancé. As a general rule, I dislike Israeli men. Bunch of blow-hard macho know-it-alls, if you ask me. This young man, however, is a refreshing exception to the stereotype. I like him a lot! Charming, witty, intelligent, kind, soft-spoken. A real mensch.

The wedding will be held in Israel. Not sure yet exactly when and where.

Details to follow in due course!

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[1] To those new to this blog, a brief history: When I was a young rōnin, I was for several years in a relationship and living with an even younger partner. While I did not fully appreciate it at the time, we were in a common-law marriage. That person is, therefore, my ‘first spouse’ ['SA'], as opposed to the person I legally married (then legally divorced) many years later ['WHN']. My children, Exhibits One and Two, were tendered into evidence during the second marriage.

Details: Exhibit One (23 year old girl), lives in Ramat Gan (east Tel Aviv), Israel. Exhibit Two (21 year old boy) just graduated from McMaster University in Canada and is also presently in Israel.

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Survival of the… Prettiest?

You’ve got to hand it to the geeks and nerdlings over at ScienceDaily.com!

Yesterday’s headline really caught my eye.

Survival of the Prettiest: Sexual Selection Can Be Inferred from the Fossil Record

The article begins, “Detecting sexual selection in the fossil record is not impossible, according to scientists writing in Trends in Ecology and Evolutionthis month, co-authored by Dr Darren Naish of the University of Southampton.”

The term “sexual selection” refers to the evolutionary pressures that relate to a species’ ability to repel rivals, meet mates and pass on genes. We can observe these processes happening in living animals but how do paleontologists know that sexual selection operated in fossil ones?

(Sexual dimorphism in the pterosaur Darwinopterus [Image by Mark Witton])

Historically, palaeontologists have thought it challenging, even impossible, to recognise sexual selection in extinct animals. Many fossil animals have elaborate crests, horns, frills and other structures that look like they were used in sexual display but it can be difficult to distinguish these structures from those that might play a role in feeding behaviour, escaping predators, controlling body temperature and so on.

However in their review, the scientists argue that clues in the fossil record can indeed be used to infer sexual selection.

“We see much evidence from the fossil record suggesting that sexual selection played a major role in the evolution of many extinct groups,” says Dr Naish, of the University’s Vertebrate Palaeontology Research Group.

“Using observations of modern animal behaviour we can draw analogies with extinct animals and infer how certain features improve success during courtship and breeding.”

(Above image of sexual selection in dinosaurs may not be 100% accurate)

Modern examples of sexual selection, where species have evolved certain behaviours or ornamentation that repel rivals and attract members of the opposite sex, include the male peacock’s display of feathers, and the male moose’s antlers for use in clashes during mating season.

Whilst these features might have had multiple uses, the authors conclude that sexual selection should not be ruled out.

“Some scientists argue that many of the elaborate features on dinosaurs were not sexually selected at all,” adds Dr Naish, who is based at the National Oceanography Centre, Southampton.

“But as observations show that sexual selection is the most common process shaping evolutionary traits in modern animals, there is every reason to assume that things were exactly the same in the distant geological past.”

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Journal Reference:

• Robert J. Knell, Darren Naish, Joseph L. Tomkins, David W.E. Hone. Sexual selection in prehistoric animals: detection and implications. Trends in Ecology & Evolution, 2013; 28 (1): 38 DOI: 10.1016/j.tree.2012.07.015

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 20): LingZhi

Those who know me will freely attest that I have a ‘thing’ for Oriental girls.

Chinese, Japanese, Korean… you name it, I am completely dippy about them.

I recently had the opportunity to meet a very charming young lady, LingZhi. She goes by the English name ‘Liz.’ [1]

She and I met a month or so ago and have been getting together now and again since then.

(LingZhi has this thing for Blue Morpho butterflies)

LingZhi is what I call a ‘stealth loonie!’ She has the cool, calm ‘normal’ exterior thing going, for sure. But once you get past that, she is a different girl altogether!

I really enjoy her company. She has been in this country a couple of years. Her English is more than OK although she is a bit self-conscious about it. [2]

(LingZhi’s socks. I mean, really!)

We do unusual things. For example, about two weeks ago, out of the blue, she asked me if I could teach her how to make mashed potatoes. How do you say ‘no’ to that?  So, off to the grocery store we went. As we were shopping, I tried explaining to her what ‘kosher’ meant but gave up after a few tries. I’ll get around to it eventually, I’m sure.

(LingZhi’s tea with my yixing teapot and cup. Note dead bonsai in background)

LingZhi, knowing my fondness for Chinese green tea, was kind and thoughtful enough to give me some as a Hanukah present.

Yesterday, she flew back home to China for the holidays.

Hopefully, she will return next month and we can see what kind of trouble we can get into again.

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[1] I personally think that the name ‘Lindsay’ is more closely connected to her real name but what do I know?

[2] Not nearly as self-conscious as I am about my Mandarin. The expression ‘Significant Suckage’ leaps to mind.

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Two Truths I Learned This Week

I learned two great truths this week.

“You don’t have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you’re a dumbass.”

One of the (many) problems with stupid people is that they do not fully appreciate just how colossally stupid they are. This make sense as it would involve a bit of self-analysis and some basic thinking.

This epiphany was followed by the second truth I learned this week.

“Sometimes you have to give up on people, not because you don’t care… but because they don’t.”

This one is particularly sad since it presumes you once cared enough about the person to get involved and try to help. At one point, you realize that of the two of you, you are the only one expending any effort. Often, it takes a long time to come to that point.

Which leads, I suppose, to the third truth I learned this week…

“Hope can be a terrible thing.”

Lessons learned the hard way.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 18): Elaine, my stalker

Virtually all the loonies with whom I have lunched [1] get to the rendezvous as a result of a series of correspondences or communications with me during which a mutually agreeable time and place is chosen.

There is one notable exception… Elaine.

Elaine and I seem to appear together through some sort of kharma or alignment of the stars. No planning is involved or even required. We just show up and there we are.

Serendipitous, I think one would have to call our impromptu run-ins.

(But who is the stalker and who is the stalkee?)

Stalking others may call it. Either way, we just happen upon each other with an alarming frequency.

Example 1: After a morning of defending the downtrodden and rescuing damsels in distress, I retire to some local café or other to sit down, decompress and otherwise enjoy some quality time with myself. Chances are that within 15 to 20  minutes, Elaine will arrive, see me ensconced at my usual spot and plonk herself down at my table with a surprised smile and a “fancy meeting you here” on her lips.

Example 2: Court is over, an errand or two have been taken care of and I decide to have a tea or a Diet Coke at some local café or other. I walk in and who should be there but Elaine. “It’s about time you showed up!” she says. “I have to leave for work in half an hour!”

Elaine is a hoot. She is also one of our local librarians. She is also a Presbyterian minister. Each of these can be a positive and even desirable trait in many a person. Elaine seems to have captured a personality trifecta or hat-trick of sorts.

But, like the yin and yang symbol, Elaine has a dark and sinister side. Yes, even this genial, smiling, kindhearted woman has evil lurking in her heart.

Elaine is what I call a ‘knit-wit.’

Allow me to elucidate. To some people, knitting is merely a pleasurable pass-time. To others, it is a practical hobby… something by which to while away the hours and end up with a scarf or some socks at the end. With Elaine, knitting is something altogether different. A consuming passion, an obsession, a driving force in her life. Her idea of a good time is driving for 90 minutes to Toronto to look at yarn. [2]

(Zombie sock yarn)

At lunch, she will pull out a freshly-knit pair of socks and breathlessly ask, “Aren’t these GREAT??” She’ll describe in surprising detail where and how she picked out the yarn, what pattern she chose and why, the number of knitting needles used, the various problems she ran into and challenges she had to overcome to produce these incredibly fantastic, amazing, magnificent socks!

“Yes. They’re lovely. Really!” I reply with bound enthusiasm.

She can sometimes tell when I am not as ‘into’ the knitting thing as I ought to be. My muted response occasionally tips her off.

“Oh, what do you know?” she says, dismissing me out of hand.

Another thing about Elaine… her fixation on Barbie.

Yes, THE Barbie. The Mattel doll loved by little girls since she first strutted into the national consciousness in the late 50s. For a while, Elaine carried a Barbie doll or two in her shoulder bag. She was knitting a series of outfits for the leggy gal pal and was always displaying the latest in the series of teeny haute couture. In fact, these dolls were so much a fixture of our lunches that we started referring to them (collectively and interchangeably) as Café Barbie.

The ‘Barbie Phase’ culminated in an all-out Barbie Photo Shoot at Elaine’s house with me as costume crew and general stage hand and Elaine’s husband acting as stage manager and lighting designer/key grip. You had to be there. It took hours but in the end, Elaine had a digital camera filled with images of her Barbie line of designer fashion outfits which she gleefully shared on her Facebook page. Needless to say, Ed and I were whelmed.

Despite these eccentricities (some may call them character flaws), Elaine remains chipper, effervescent, even bubbly. Her laugh is infectious. Her cheerfulness is almost tangible. She is quick with a corny joke and proficient at the pun. She is gentle and kind and funny as all get out.

(My stalker. Or stalkee)

Just don’t mention ‘knitting’ within earshot. You’ve been warned!

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[1] Just to let you know that I am perfectly aware of the grammatically correct form of this phrase.

[2] What’s wrong with the yarn sold locally? Beats me.

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The National Relationships Board

I recall being in a big city law library years ago and seeing four freshly-minted and most attractive young female lawyers. It was a Friday afternoon and I asked what wild and woolly plans they had for the weekend. They said, “nothing much.”

Nothing much?? No dates? No being taken out to restaurants and movies? No romantic weekends somewhere, far away from the drudgery of the law?

The general consensus among that sad little group of young ladies was that guys of their vintage were either intimidated by intelligent successful women or their tastes drifted toward the ‘easier and skankier’ members of their sisterhood. Guys their age tended to follow the path of least resistance, both intellectually and sexually.

(Why is she working Friday night instead of going on a date??)

I was agog and aghast. This situation, rather widespread according to that mopey little gaggle of girls, could not be allowed to continue. It was an outrage. An affront to common decency. Steps of some sort needed to be taken.

The need for Big Brother to step in and take things firmly in hand was obvious. Thus, the idea for “The Board” was born.

I have long believed that there should be some kind of government tribunal… The National Relationships Board or The Federal Dating Tribunal… something along those lines.

Guys… and by this I mean otherwise decent, appropriate and eligible young men [1]… would be hauled up before the panel to account for themselves as to why perfectly lovely, charming girls aren’t being taken out on dates by decent boyfriends who treat them right.

(You got some ‘splainin’ to do, son!)

Very severe penalties would be handed down to those who cannot give good reasons as to why so many gorgeous girls are left standing on the relationship sidelines.

Any guy who could not provide a good excuse (let alone string together a grammatically cogent phrase) would be dealt with in the most severe manner.

The Tribunal’s motto… Pull Up Your Pants; You Look Like an Idiot!

Naturally, I would be head of the tribunal because I see on a daily basis how so many wonderful young ladies are reduced to putting up with rude, crude, thoughtless, heartless, brainless morons. And that’s when they can find guys in the first place!

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[1] There being a glut of inappropriate guys and an apparent dearth of good guys, the Board would concentrate on the latter. As a girl can’t swing a cat without smacking some loser with it, The Board would concentrate on the eligible yet clueless within the pool of available men.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 14): Anna

There are people I know who are ‘quantity lunchers’… people with whom I get together fairly frequently.

My dear friend Anna can only be described as a ‘quality luncher’… I don’t get together with her as often as I would like but when I do, our meetings are most memorable.

(I took this photo of Anna when we were in college)

I’ve known Anna since college. She and I worked in ‘the theatre’ [1] together.

Aside from being beautiful, intelligent and charming, Anna possesses a very quick wit and a clever turn of phrase.

When I am with Anna, we don’t talk… we converse. Conversation is an art whenever Anna is involved.

Luckily, her words and ideas aren’t evanescent and ephemeral. They don’t disappear as soon as she speaks them. Anna is also a writer (as opposed to a mere ‘blogger’ like me). Her written words are crafted just as carefully as her spoken words.

Such richness of expression risks being too much for a palate accustomed to plain fare. Fortunately, Anna manages to express herself in way that is open to all willing to listen… really listen… to what she says.

Metaphors, similes, allusions, alliteration… all used effortlessly and with a deft hand.

(Anna performing in ‘The Threepenny Opera’)

It helps, of course, that Anna is nuts. In the nicest possible way, of course, but eccentric nonetheless. Her loopiness is the spice that flavours her talks. Any given tète-à-tète with Anna leaves me with the distinct impression that Reason left the building long ago and left Wit in charge of warming the throne until she returns.

Whether our discussions are light and frothy or deep and intense, exchanging ideas with Anna is always a delight.

We are long overdue for an extended chat. My fault, completely.

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[1] Pronounced “the THEE-ah-tah!”

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 13): Tom

Tom.

What can I say about Tom?

I’ve known Tom since high school.

I went to college with Tom.

When Tom and I are across the table from each other at a café or diner, I know I am going to have a wonderful time.

Tom personifies ‘down to earth.’ He doesn’t have an ounce of pretension in him.

(Tom and I a few years ago at my ‘office’ at the café)

During the course of his life, he’s had his share of tragedy and challenge and yet he has risen above it time and time again.

He manages to be plain-spoken without being blunt to the point of rudeness. He is genuinely friendly.

No one lives The Golden Rule like Tom.

I suspect he may be nuts. Only someone with deep-seated problems can appear this normal and cheerful every day.

From what I can tell, he doesn’t experience mood swings. While I’ve seen him ticked now and again, I cannot say that I have seen Tom truly angry in all the 43 years I’ve known him.

But… sometimes the mask slips and I can see the loonie lurking behind. There are tell-tale signs of wackiness.

(Old college friends Joyce and Tom, clearly caught plotting against me!)

To give you just one example… Tom wears shorts. And when I say, “Tom wears shorts” I’m here to tell you… Tom wears shorts!

All the time. Day and night. All year round.

On blustery winter days, in walks Tom in khaki shorts, a broad smile on his face. I’ve seen Tom strolling down the street in basketball shorts during a snow storm.

You may have everyone else fooled, Tom… but I am on to you. You’re as loopy as I am. You just manage to hide it better!

I’ve given it a lot of thought over the last couple of days.

My life would be all the poorer and less colourful without Tom in it.

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Loonies I Have Lunched With (Part 12): Wendy

OK, so there I was, sitting at my other café, minding my own business…

I was alternating between going through my emails, doing a bit of writing and checking out the other patrons. I noticed a particularly lovely young lady at the counter along the window… gorgeous silhouette against the light of the late afternoon. Her back was to me but I noticed her long dark brown hair and pale skin. Quite a vision.

The waitress, Krista (more on her in another blog), came over to me and struck up a conversation. No sooner had my voice wafted over the café airwaves than the pretty girl at the window turned my way.

It was my dear friend Wendy!

She brought over her soup and drink and plonked herself at my table. I couldn’t have been happier. I introduced Wendy to fellow-loony, Krista. They’d met. Of course, they’d met. Loonies have a way of gravitating to one another.

A few words about my dear friend Wendy. Young, pretty, spiritual, fun… bit of an intellectual but in a good way.

We share many of the same odd interests. For example, we’re both zombie and vampyre nuts. We can, and have, spend long periods of time discussing various aspects of The Upcoming Zombie Apocalypse, especially the physiognomy of the living dead.

We also share an almost unnatural passion for grocery shopping (more on that in another blog).

Wendy’s long hair is quite something. Thick, rich… fantastic. She has a habit of playing with it that makes it even more attractive.

We promised each other to set up a grocery shopping date. The only thing better than doing groceries is having someone I like to keep me company. I can think of few people with whom I’d rather shop for groceries than Wendy.

It’s a real advantage that Wendy is eccentric. It takes the pressure off in that neither of us feel we have to ‘act normal.’ We can be ourselves. Such a relief in these trying times.

It really helps when friends share quirks and compulsions. A lot fewer explanations are required.

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Why I Miss The South (Part 6): Flirting

I’ve given this a lot of thought and have come to two conclusions.

One: most people don’t know how properly to flirt. This is because…

Two: most people don’t know what flirting is.

Flirting is as complex as it is fundamental.

Flirting is about communicating with a person through a careful procedure that involves a little curiosity, a bit of brevity and laughter, and some meaningful glances and smiles. While it can be aggressive and obvious, I personally put this overt style of flirting in the ‘hitting on someone’ category.

To me, flirting is quiet and subtle. A look that lingers a moment longer than it otherwise would. The tiniest of smiles. The most seemingly innocent double entendre or Freudian slip. A meaningful exchange of glances in reaction to what a third person says. The most subtle of body language. Ideally, only the most observant of bystanders would even know there was any flirting going on at all.

One popular fact that gets tossed around a great deal is that scientists believe there are as many as 52 “flirting signals” used by humans around the world.

I don’t know how or where the scientists picked up such information but speaking strictly for myself the Number One Undisputed Capital of Flirting, bar none, is The South.

There is something about the flirting that goes on south of the Mason-Dixon Line.

Flirting is not merely a skill way down yonder in the land of cotton… it has been elevated, refined and transformed into an Art!

It is through the art of flirtation that people in The South experience the pleasures of interacting with the opposite sex.

Flirting can be a means by which to get into a relationship, of course. It is certainly an enjoyable way to get to know someone initially.

But to me, flirting is an end in and of itself. It doesn’t have to lead anywhere else. To me, flirting is its own reward.

And when flirting with a Southern Girl… the rewards are immeasurable.

It’s been 12 years since I went down to The South. It’s been 12 years since I’ve experienced Flirtation as Art.

Nothing compares. Nothing comes close.

I miss it.

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