August 21, 2005

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?