No dating for a year

The prophet tells us, "Your old will have visions; your young will dream dreams." Elderly women in a retirement community in Mill Valley protested the war in Iraq on a busy thoroughfare with placards every Friday for years. But one dream coming true doesn't mean you give up on other lifelong dreams.

A man I know of 22, halfway to a medical degree, is pursuing ballet dreams in New York City. You're not dream-greedy to want, say, a cool career and a mate.

It means they get a pass for a week or two, or a month. I would say that CPAP machines are the greatest advance in marital joy since the vibrator. This – subscribing -- means you can communicate with people at the site, instead of just studying the profiles, questionnaires, preferences and photographs for free. My preferences are smart, funny, kind, into nature, God, reading, movies, pets, family, liberal politics, hiking; I prefer sober, or sober-ish.

It transforms an experience similar to sleeping next to a dying silverback gorilla into sleeping next to an aquarium. So the first morning, eight profiles of men varying in age from 54 to 63 arrived by email.

Additionally, I have spent approximately 1,736 hours of this one precious life waiting for the man to finish, and pretending that felt good. What I missed was checking in all day with my person, daydreaming about him, and watching TV together at night.

They mentioned that they drank moderately, or never, or socially (the most you can admit to.

There is no way to check for "drinks alcoholically"). I selected a nice-looking Englishman with grown children for my second date. I emailed, and we arranged to meet at a Starbucks halfway between our homes, on a Sunday morning before my church.

For my maiden voyage, I had coffee with an accomplished local man, who said his last girlfriend had been religious, a devout Jew, and this had driven him crazy. He said he had a good sense of humor, loved movies. This is a true story: He was 10 minutes late, and shaken, because he had just seen a fatal motorcycle accident on the Richmond San Rafael Bridge.

He had stopped to inspect the body, because he was worried that it was his son, although his son rode a dramatically different brand of motorcycle. I liked him, though, and we exchanged adorable and kicky emails, arranging another date, for sushi, and he was lively, cultured and sort of charming.

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