If You Build It…
January 15th, 2010One of my all time favorite movies has always been Field of Dreams. I know it sounds corny, but when Shoeless Joe Jackson appeared on that baseball field, my life became an “If you build it, he will come” kind of life.
Well, “he” hasn’t come yet, but the “if you build it” part is starting to take effect – as in, my recent letter to my friends. (See previous post.) First up, my lawyer (okay – that just sounded so Hollywood of me): “I think I have someone for you. He might be too old for you and he’s not batting a thousand in the looks department, but he’s smart and funny and his personality reminds me of you. I think you would hit it off. Can he call you tonight?” Well, since this is my year of anything goes, I said, “Sure, why not?”
Next up, my friend from high school: “There’s this friend of my fiancé’s – he’s not really your type so I’ve never thought about fixing you up, but maybe…Why don’t you have lunch with him tomorrow?” Well, since this is my year of anything goes, I said, “Sure, why not?”
The phone call (lawyer set-up) came in late that night. And much to my surprise, I really enjoyed it. All NINETY minutes of it. The man was definitely my cup of tea – hilariously funny, brilliantly smart, just the right amount of cocky – hmm, this year was getting off to a good start. Then…
“I think you’re fantastic,” he said, “But I think I’m too old for you,”
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Sixty four and a half.”
Oh shit.
“So if you’re looking for the fairy tale, I’m definitely not your guy,” he said, “But if you’re looking for a good time, I’ll send my jet and we’ll be on our way.” For about 3 seconds I thought, maybe I don’t need the fairy tale, I just need a guy who says, “I’ll send my jet and we’ll be on our way.” Okay, for about half a second I thought that and for the other 2 ½, I thought, he’s almost as old as my dad. But then…
“Do you have a son?” I asked. Well, as luck would have it he did have a son. “He’s too young for you,” he said, “And I don’t think he’s your type.” Wait — was he actually cock-blocking his own son? So as he told me a little more about his son, a light bulb went off in my head. “What’s your son’s name again?” I asked.
Yep, you guessed it. Or maybe you didn’t. His son? My lunch date for the next day.
If you build it, he will come.
Or, maybe his son will.
