Flavor of the Month at Krispy Kreme

Hey... We're not all this bad!

Source: http://www.doonesbury.com/ - 29 August 2005

I've read some blogs that are pretty inane. I've read some that are things of beauty. I've read some that are theme oriented. I have a blog that lists information for my students to reach on the 'web. Yeah, there are some that are pretty bad. But there are others that are artistic and inspirational.

Seems to me that the "blogosphere" is as eclectic as are the bloggers that muse and post their thoughts on the web for all to read.

No, we are not all nut-cases, conspiracy theorists, or even doughnut fanatics. We are a part of the human experience. And like all authors, our work is incomplete until completed by the reader (apologies to Umberto Ecco).

Live, Laugh, and Love!
- tDF

Review of Goals for this Year

In January of this year I wrote the following:

Thinking about what the priorities should be, the following come to mind:

Financial: To live within a budget and to responsibly service my debts;
Professional: To locate suitable employment that will allow me to meet my nut every month with room to spare;
Music: Complete the CD and distribute, gig to support it and for personal satisfaction;
Personal Relationships: Spend quality time with the important people in my life;
Spiritual: Continue to do anonymous kindness for those that cannot repay me, improve my spiritual development.

That is a heady list. I think that I have to do some realistic planning that takes into account time necessary, resources, and who needs to be involved. That is the hard one for me; I need to be a bit more pragmatic here.

I have made some discernible progress toward my goals. Most notably has been securing employment with the school district that I wanted to work for. This also moves me much closer to working within a budget and meeting obligations without as much stress.

I have always been good about doing acts of kindness for others. Spiritual development is still a bit of a sore spot. I have been invited - generally by well-meaning fundamentalists - to visit their churches. I try to be polite and gently decline the invitation. I have no desire to be part of a formal faith community at this time in my life. I have wondered about finding some spiritual connection, but I still have a good deal of Lutheran blood coursing through my veins; I have little toleration for cosmic fluff (of any variety).

Music and personal relationships remain the neglected parts of the equation. Music is hard to do when instruments become a source of income. I need to redeem those that are unavailable and return to concerted practice. I have been taking lessons on guitar. That has been helpful, though I will bow out of that for a month or so. Personal relationships... not now. Anybody that has read this blog can see the trail of tears left behind following a year and one-half of a painful relationship. I don't want to perseverate on that one. I thought that she was the "one". She wasn't. She began to have serious issues in November and refused to accept help offered. I don't know what happened to her that she became so greedy and selfish. I hope, for her sake, that she gets over it. As for me, I am done with her. I want never to see her again and to move on.

Looking back is a helpful exercise. It has been a tough year, but a good one. And I am ever hopeful that life is good.

Ah, but I am only a fool...

Miscellany

It has been a busy week. My stress level has been high, but for good reasons. I began teaching at a new high school, the flagship school in my district. I am thrilled to be there, but like any change, it comes with no small amount of stress. I have been doing well with my classes. I have five preps, though. This started with my working with the vocational education program; one that I have unique qualifications to work for. Then, as if to say that nothing can go too smoothly, my portfolio was changed and I got two science (!) classes. I am teaching English, Algebra, Earth and Life Sciences, and a study hall and study habits class. I have a degree in History. What is missing from my line up? Oh well… I can do this!

The curious thing is that M, MM’s son, attends the school. He has dropped by a few times. I was courteous and chatted with him. He came by to say hello, a decent thing to do. I am not going to let any flack from the ending of my relationship with his mother spill over to him. That would be unconscionably rude. He is a student in this school; for me to let my personal life spill into work would be to do harm to the emotional safety of the students in this place.

I am concerned about some of the behaviors that I have seen in the kids: ridicule is high on their agenda, as is profane commentary. These kids all have special needs. There is some irony in hearing them call each other “retard” or seeing the pecking order of the kids that are decidedly on the outside of the pack.

We read a watered down version of one of my favorite books: Don Quixote de la Mancha. This was a telling of the story that took five pages. Cervantes took that much to describe a scene. Needless to say, this was an abridgement of the Reader’s Digest Version. What did stand out was Quijada’s ability to see beyond sight. We talked about that. They all thought that he was nuts; I asked if it was possible that he was seeing people for what they were on the inside, seeing the nobility that the context of their lives concealed. I think that some of them may have gotten that.

Disturbing News

My favorite tele-evangelist, cum Neo-Nazi, is at it again. Brother Pat Robertson suggested that we should save the time and effort of a war and just assassinate Hugo Chavez. However, Pat did apologize, so I guess it’s all just fine now. He did observe that he never used the word “assassinate” demurring instead to the employment of covert operatives to “take him out”. What a guy. Thank God that Pat is praying for those who curse him and lifting the name of his enemies before the Lord God in love and concern for his soul. Maybe Pat just thought that the covert ops should take Hugo out for a night on the town, you know, let your hair down and party down with the Christian right. Show him a good time... yeah, right.

So whatever became of pacificism and the fifth commandment in the Christian faith: Thou shalt not kill? I have some passing familiarity with the history of Christianity. It began as a religion that espoused non-violence and eschewed politics as concerns of the flesh and perseveration with this world. This says nothing of Pat’s confusion of the Reign of God with a right-wing theocracy that is peopled by others that share his warped understanding of the biblical faith. If Pat is going to talk about Chavez, then perhaps he may want to read that troublesome book that we Lutherans consider our own territory in the Bible: Romans. I refer to the 13th chapter of that magisterial document:

13: 1 Let every person be subject to the governing authorities; for there is no authority except from God, and those authorities that exist have been instituted by God. 2 Therefore whoever resists authority resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment. 3 For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Do you wish to have no fear of the authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive its approval; 4 for it is God's servant for your good. But if you do what is wrong, you should be afraid, for the authority does not bear the sword in vain! It is the servant of God to execute wrath on the wrongdoer. 5 Therefore one must be subject, not only because of wrath but also because of conscience. 6 For the same reason you also pay taxes, for the authorities are God's servants, busy with this very thing. 7 Pay to all what is due them — taxes to whom taxes are due, revenue to whom revenue is due, respect to whom respect is due, honor to whom honor is due. (NRSV)

So… If the bible is the literal word of God and the bible here clearly states that all authority is from God then God must have, as part of a divine purpose, the authority vested in Hugo Chavez. To do harm to that rule is to do harm to God’s purpose… sticky wicket that for Pat. Sucks to be President Bush, too, with his war against Saddam Hussein.

Clearly I do not believe in this literalist understanding of St. Paul’s apocalypticism. Pat Robertson and the rest of his lying cohorts claim that they do. Harsh words there for they make him into a liar or an idiot, a fool or a knave. Both are dishonorable. Neither is to be trusted.

Protestations

Speaking of protests, Cindy Sheehan continues to be a threat to Bush’s popularity. Would it not have made sense to have met with her for five or so minutes and make it into a photo-op? Seems that they dropped the ball on that one. Imagine the power that a 48-year old woman has by asking a question about the causes of a war that cost her son his life. No covert ops here. Just a citizen asking for truth… and the lions tremble in their lairs.

Maybe Ms. Sheehan is a bit like Don Quixote? She sees something that is evident only to those that are willing to see. Mr. Bush shows every sign of becoming a tyrant. It does no good to threaten a tyrant with force. He has more force than we can ever muster. Besides, we lose the moral high ground if we sink to the level of the tyrant. It seems more beautiful and more effective to ask for truth. So Sheehan may be jousting with a windmill or two, she still sees more clearly than those whose self imposed blinders have narrowed their vision to see only what our handlers want us to see.

Forty-Year-Old Virgin

I went to the movies with my daughter "A" last night. We saw Forty-Year-Old Virgin. I wanted to see the film, expecting mind-candy and nothing more. My expectations were set for a situation comedy with a bawdy edge. What I got was a story of a man coming to grips with change and remaining true to himself.

Surprised by Substance

I have become accustomed to the vapid world of production cinema. I saw Anchorman and enjoyed a laugh here and there, but really felt that it was worth less than I had paid. My taste in film is somewhat more substantial. I enjoy good farce: the last great film of that genre made was Blazing Saddles. But even that film would have been weak had it not been for its satiric edge.

Forty-Year-Old Virgin tells the story of a hapless geek guy who is too old to be cool. He is lost in a world of video games, action figures, and memories of awkward sexual experiences that wend sadly awry. To cement his geek image, he works at an electronic supply store in the supply department, rides a bike to work, and tucks in his polo shirts. He is befriended by coworkers that, at first, thought that he was a potential serial killer at the worst or a harmless drudge at best.

Staying True to Self

I think that the idea of staying true to self is at the heart of this film. Andy Sitzer, our protagonist, is coached by friends in the art of meeting women. In what seems to be a coincidence he meets Trish. This is the woman with whom he finds love. An awkward courtship ensues and they finally make love. That is the key. Andy never experienced the awkward post-fuck moment when you are tying to escape quietly or watching you partner trying to do the same. In a moment, he looks at Trish and fesses up to the truth: he is a virgin but was happy to have waited for the right women.

I think that sexuality is a metaphor for our hidden selves. I’ve experienced the awkward post-fuck moment and the ecstasy of holding a woman that I loved with every cell of my being. I am jealous of Andy in many ways: he will only have made love to the woman he loves. That is where the story ends. Though, there is a hilarious scene that, in the tradition of films like Blazing Saddles, stretches the suspension of disbelief beyond any reasonable limit and scores the biggest laughs of the film.

Love and Sex

Let’s face it. We make altogether too much of sex and sexuality in our culture. It is our Calvinist roots, I think, that has condemned us to define ourselves by our attitudes toward sex, positive or negative. There was a time that sex was taboo. Now it is de rigueur. Really, sex is pretty simple: boy gets hard, girl gets wet, there is some thrusting and –hopefully – both feel nice afterwards. We all do this pretty much in the same way. So what makes the difference between the great lover and the mediocre fucks? The answer is in the question: it is in the attitude that we hold toward our partners. I, for one, am done with fucking. I am looking for a woman to love.

My Confession

I miss making coffee for my love in the morning, making her breakfast and bringing it to her with a rose. I miss dropping a love note in my lover’s purse. I miss listening to the details of her day. Sex is the least part of making love. Loving is the greater part. I miss the loving. I am looking for that person with whom I can discover hope anew every morning. For this woman I am willing to wait, but not passively. I am a caring man that seeks commitment.

Socrates’ words ring in my ears: Know yourself that you may be true to yourself. I am not looking to get laid. I am looking for my love, my life, my other self. I have to confess that I am afraid of being hurt again. My soul is generous but my heart is still pained. It will heal – nobody will ever have that power to crush me again – and I will move on.

Oh my love… where are you?

I Really Have Nothing to Say

I really have nothing to say… There are times when I look at the screen and wonder why I write. It seems so inane, like a man yelling into a chasm just to hear the sound of his voice echoing. Breaking silence, as if to say, “I am” in the face of oblivion. But what does it matter if there is no one to hear. A solipsism still remains unknown insofar as it is only known to me. There is no objective proof.

Sisyphus

Perhaps Sisyphus is my patron saint. He was a cruel bastard who, in the end, was justly sentenced to spend all eternity rolling a stone up hill until it fell down again and then began anew. He was damned to this fate because he had chained Thanatos and thus disallowed the souls of the dead to reach the underworld. Why do I claim him as my patron? Certainly not for what he did in his mortal life: he was a villain. Rather I look at the idea of being doomed to inconsequential and ultimately futile work.

There are times when I feel that I am doomed to roll a rock only to watch it tumble down again, like God’s own dice throwing snake eyes for me. Crapped out.

I saw MM today. It was in a meeting. I don’t think she saw me. I quickly turned away to avoid confrontation. This is a shared workplace. No need to bring our former lives into this place. And the dice are thrown. Pablo finds himself in hell again, futile, vain, and bereft of meaning. Can anybody hear or is this echo only in my mind?

Love Sucks

As hurt and angry as I was with her the truth is that I did love her with all that I am. It was not enough for her. I thought that her heart was ice, needing only warmth to free it from a chill. It was stone. Cold, hard, and ultimately without a space for me. All of the lies told, all of the games played, all of the manipulations, all of the cruel comments made are finally facing me and saying that I allowed it to happen by not putting an end to it sooner. I squandered my heart’s love on a heartless woman who could not bear to be loved.

I have a pattern of choosing women that … I don’t know if that is true. I tend to find women that do not want to be in a committed relationship. SL was the same. She abandoned the marriage when we hit our first major crisis. All of the vows became disposable and she lied, saying she was in for the long haul while looking for the cheap and easy way out. And yet I still love her. I can’t say how sick that sounds when I look at it. And the man just threw snake eyes again.


It Is Not My Youth I Miss; It Is the Sense of Hope

I sat in a meeting with the new teachers where I work. They all looked so young. One, a beautiful red-haired woman, smiled at me and waved furtively. She is easily twenty years my junior. I fantasized making love with her. I realized that she has no idea how old I am and in that moment I realized that my youth was past. My daughter is not much older than this young woman is now. I looked at her. Full of hope and anticipation and I wondered if middle age begins with the death of hope and its descent into cynicism. I know how to pursue a younger woman and to lead her into my bed. Young bodies still have a beauty about them that loses its sheen with age; an older body is full of life and death, it requires a sophisticated touch. But, younger woman still seem to exude hope.

I don’t want to chase women twenty years younger than me. I just want to believe in the possibility that love engenders hope for the future rather than the certainty of a broken heart. MM did not even let the sheets get cold before I was replaced in her bed. She is heartless. I look at these young women and hope that they will not fall victim to the same petrifaction that happened with this woman I once loved. Eden Ahbez may have been correct when he said, “the greatest thing, you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”

I wish that I had loved a woman that would love me in kind. Unrequited love is bitter. And its cost is profound. Futile: like Sisyphus rolling his stone, or a man at a precipice calling out words of love in the vain hope that someone will return his cries…

No, I really have nothing to say.

The Right to Peaceably Assemble in Texas

The test of a free society’s commitment to an uncensored and free exchange of ideas is found in its commitment to a spirited dialog that is protected and encouraged by the government. It is my right, as an American, to dissent. I may do so with dignity or I may do so in a manner that respects no accepted standard of taste. The first amendment to The Constitution of the United States reads thusly:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

All people in this country, regardless of citizenship, have the right to practice or not to practice a religion, to publish opinions and engage in dialog regarding ideas, and to assemble in protest to a position held by the government. To disallow any dialog is to do harm to the most basic right from which all civil rights derive: the right to public expression of deviation from a community’s norm.

In the time following the attack on the World Trade Center, I was living on my boat at the marina in Ventura. One of the live-aboards put a flag on the stern of his vessel and burned his anchor lights in honor of the dead. Soon, the night was aglow with lights from docked vessels. I chose not to do this. I have always been shy to display a flag – I don’t even own one – preferring instead to honor the dead in my own manner. One night I heard a knock on the hull of my boat. Seven or eight of my dockmates were demanding to know why I chose not to fly my flag or burn my lights. I responded that I my grief was personal and asked why this was a concern of theirs. They responded that they were unsure about my “Un-American” attitude. I responded that the most American right is the right to dissent and that I choose to exercise that right.

Yesterday I read that Cindy Sheehan’s camp was destroyed by a Texan in an SUV, driving over the crosses with the names of the dead from this illegal war in Iraq. The crosses bore names of young people that have died in this ill-begotten belligerence. Now I ask, who shows greater disrespect for the soldiers whose lives have been lost: a grieving mother that asks a legitimate question about the causes of this war or a coward in an SUV that desecrates the memories of the fallen by bullying a woman whose only “crime” is to dissent?

Ms. Sheehan is moving. She has had shotgun blasts by the denizens of Crawford to signal their displeasure. She has been menaced by a vehicle that could, as easily, have killed her. She has faced a town seeking to enact laws intended to prohibit her from exercising her right to peaceably assemble in a public place. Now she has had to move.

And where was Mr. Bush, who is sworn to uphold and protect the Constitution that defines these rights? Where was his voice in calling for an end to the harassment of a citizen exercising her rights as an American?

Ah, but I am only a fool…

A Small World

... But try to paint it!

Apologies to Steven Wright.

Here is a map of the 62 countries where my blog has been accessed at least once since its inception. Hong Kong is missing on the list. It felt dishonest to mark China. What amazes me is that I have done very little to push readership. The occasional link to a blogsharing service, but nothing more than that. This would have been unimaginable years ago. I am in awe.



create your own visited countries map
or vertaling Duits Nederlands


Thanks for reading.
- tDF

Looking at the screen...

There are times when I wonder how to soil this beautiful white sheet of paper. I suppose that that thought dates me. I used to wonder that as I looked at paper over my typewriter’s keyboard. Now I look at a computer screen, still amazed that the letters that I wish to use appear in front of me. I love to write on the computer. It is fluid. I used to be the king of slips and rubber cement in editing and copying (hence, “cut and paste” on the computer’s edit menu). I would not want to go back to that time. But there is something unreal about working on the computer. I miss the tangibility of paper on the roll in front of me being altered with each keystroke.

There is an old joke: How many Lutherans does it take to change a light bulb? Four: One to make the change, three to complain how much better things were before the new bulb. Imagine how the transition might have been when they moved from candles to electricity! As a former Lutheran pastor, I can poke gentle fun at my former parishioners. They trusted me with their spiritual growth; I led as I had light to see the path. Too often, however, there seemed to be nostalgia for a glorious past that never was.

It’s true. I miss seeing paper in front of me. I don’t miss slips and rubber cement. I love the fluidity of the editing process and the ease with which I can move from thought to expression on the computer. It is an improvement. It came with a loss: I lost the touch of paper in my hands. But not really, it is just postponed to the moment that I choose to print a document. In this case I am writing for my blog. I do not intend to print this document. Its expression is purely digital, unless a reader decides to commit it to a hard copy. This is an option that never existed before. The change created new options that I could not have imagined twenty years ago.

Life is a series of changes. With each change, small or large, we risk the loss of things held precious and the gain of things unimagined. I tried to use a typewriter a couple of days ago. I was in the office supply store and saw one. I had to try it. Do you know how hard it is to remember to hit the enter button each time I have come to a line return? And all of the beautiful options for fonts and emphasis that I did not have with a typewriter. I definitely like the new light bulb. I may have some nostalgia, but it is transient.

Now to learn to do the same with my love life…


And now for something completely unrelated to my post!

You're Mexico!

While some people think you're poor and maybe a little corrupt, you know where it's at, enjoying good food and nice beaches. You like to take things a little slower than those around you, and you really wish the air were cleaner, but sometimes compromises must be made. For some reason, Chevrolet keeps trying to sell you Novas as well, even though they don't really go.

Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Hiroshima

St. Augustine proposed criteria that would qualify a nation to wage a just and Christian war. These criteria included the following:

• The war was defensive in nature, that is to say provoked and in response to a legitimate need to defend a nation's citizens;
• The war was limited to combatants and surrender was honored, as wounded were treated mercifully;
• The war had a clear objective that was obtainable;
• The war was imposed by legal authority; and
• There was no other recourse available to defend the citizens of a nation.

Modern warfare had done away with the idea of a just war. Today is the sixtieth anniversary of the first use of nuclear weapons in war. The bomb rendered obsolete all of these criteria as it was a new sort of weapon of which Augustine could not have imagined: a weapon of mass destruction.

Since the world began the last century of madness and mayhem - I consider that World War I and World War II to be part of the same conflict; the cold war and the colonial wars in Asia to be extensions of the same - we, as a nation, have been the beneficiaries of blood. When Eisenhower warned against the development of a "military industrial complex" he spoke of the wedding of our economic needs to the machinery of war. Every weapon is truly theft from the legacy of our humanity and the very real and mundane needs of the remainder of humanity: food, clothing, shelter, peace.

The bomb fell and with it Hirsohima became the first casualty of a new and inhumane form of conflict in which there was no possible distinction to be drawn between combatants and civilians: all were targets, all were destroyed. In a dark irony the bomb, like death itself, was egalitarian insofar as it did not distinguish between class or rank: all that fell in its shadow were and then were no longer.

We are now engaged in a bloody and horrid war in Iraq. To what end do we pursue this warring madness. How many more must die before we learn that the greatness of a nation is not found in its ability to kill, but in its will to be compassionate?

Ah, but I am only a fool...

Intimate Ethics

I’ve been thinking about personal morality of late. I have to confess to a lapse in both judgment and actions and thus cannot pretend to speak from some moral high ground. Instead, I am wondering how to live in caring relationships in a world that has devalued marriage and monogamy. If we have not devalued these values, we, as a culture, have certainly become somewhat ambivalent about them. For my own self, I do believe in monogamous relationships, but I am not convinced that they should be the only norm. Consensual polygamy may be more practical and more honest.

First, Do No Harm

I have always stated that the first rule is to affirm life. That which is harmful to that dictum is harmful to any practical morality. Honesty, care, compassion all must be part of the equation, especially when the question involves something as personal as sexuality. Harmful sexual expression can – and does – occur in monogamous relationships. I think of sex used as power or control by either partner and see that the ideal of sharing intimacy has been lost to a need to control. This is harmful. This is, to my view, immoral. What about so-called open marriages or open relationships? I will confess a bit of inconsistency in my thinking and note that this is very provisional.

I think that “open marriage” is a contradiction in terms. Marriage is, by definition, an act of exclusive commitment. I am very supportive of this, be this for gay or straight persons. This allows the formation of a stable family unit, insofar as commitment is sustained (an assumption that is more often than not invalid in our culture of disposable covenants). I do not believe that we should enter into marriage lightly, nor do I believe that marriage should be dissolved so easily. In truth, I am coming to a place of thinking that marriage should be the exception and not the rule for most relationships.

Open relationships are quite another issue. I am not certain that I consider “don’t ask, don’t tell” to be functional or life affirming. It allows for expectations to develop and agendas to become hidden. It denies the primary ideal of honesty. I believe that consensual polygamy is acceptable outside of marriage, assuming that all partners understand the nature of the relationship and all partners are responsible in their actions.

Honesty and Ease

I do not believe in lying to comfort a lover. I have been profoundly hurt by lies told to me because they would “make things easier.” They never do; they only create an atmosphere of suspicion and distrust. Eventually, the truth has a way of making itself known and in that destructive revelation, the ease that was bartered for is destroyed. Honesty is a much better ground upon which to build a relationship. I can think of no circumstance in which a lie serves as a solid grounding for any relationship. In my experience, they have been destructive.

I think that exclusivity is a good thing. It is not the primary good. It is good insofar as it creates a boundary for trust and commitment to one another. I am a 48-year-old man that has come out of a (sadly) failed relationship. It was destroyed by the lies told to me by my lover. I am not in a position now to consider another exclusive relationship. I am not convinced that exclusivity must be the only grounds for intimacy.

What harm is there in this if all parties are aware of the reality and all are able to be comfortable? As I write this my Christian scruples want to rebel; but I have come to a place of not holding the Christian gospel as the cornerstone of an ethical system. I think that my reactions are well-practiced reflexes from a time when I held a different basis for an ethical system. I return to my first premise: do no harm. I am not seeking to make sex objects out of women, using them as objects rather than entering into an "I/Thou" relationship with them. This is an interim arrangement, based on honesty and the consent of all involved.

Interim Arrangements

The idea of a penultimate context from ethics is well grounded in Christian ethical thought. It presumes an eschaton, a great time of judgment and redemption at the end of all things. In a world that presumed the evil nature of the flesh and the immediate consummation of God’s redemptive promises, it followed well that all marriages were interim. Curiously, they were also reckoned as absolutely binding: No open marriages. The only other option was continence. We now live 2,000 years after the passing of the authors of the New Testament. Its apocalypticism seems to be a vestige of its time rather than a pronouncement for the ages. I think that an ethic that is grounded on that apocalyptic vision is ultimately grounded in an archaic understanding of the good. Spiritual purity was placed in contrast to physical life; even good food and drink were considered sinful, as they promoted vanity and egocentrism.

Interim ethics need to presume a mutuality of trust, realizing that life is marked by changes, some imposed by the whims of others and against our will. They understand that relationships are ephemeral and that sexual expression within those relationships needs to regard the transient nature of these relationships. I am not advocating promiscuity. I am advocating some middle ground that allows for growth toward or away from commitment but always allows for trust and honesty.

Ah, but I am only a fool…

Pas de Deux?

What can I say? I still believe in magic and romance. I know that my life’s partner is out there and that we’ll find each other.

Who am I? I am the father of the two most beautiful daughters on the face of the planet. I am a teacher (special education). I am a musician and composer. My daughter says that I have “mad culinary skills.”

What are my best features?

• I am kind, caring, and compassionate.
• I am intelligent, but understand that it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, for what is essential is invisible to the eye (extra points if you know the reference… one of my favorite books!).
• I am not afraid of commitment – I am craving it!
• I speak Spanish and English (and some others that I had to learn in grad school!)
• My daughter thinks I’m good looking (she is rumored to have good taste!)
• I will defend those I love with all that I have.
• I am no wimp – I am strong. loving and wise.
• I am not afraid of my emotions, but don’t wear them on my sleeve in a superficial “sensitive 90’s guy” way.
• I can even wear pink and look masculine.
• I am sensual.
• I enjoy laughing… usually at myself.
  

So why have I not found my match? God only knows, and she ain’t tellin’!