But by and large, despite those enticing pitches, adulthood turns out to mean acceptance — of how you played the hand you were dealt, of mortality, of beshert — even if it sometimes includes flashes of 40-f—ing-8-like fury at the way the world turns out to work.
It took eight decades, but at last I know what is meant by \”second childhood.\”
For the past two years I\’ve been swimming exclusively in the dating pool of divorced dads (DDs). This makes me a Divorced-Dad Dater (DDD).
I love DDs because they will always make sure you\’ve had enough to eat and have gone to the bathroom before long car rides. To me, DDs are more colorful than single men, with greater complexity to their lives, navigating sanity, maturity and alimony coupled with the juggling capabilities of a high-wire performer.
\”The world exists only because of the innocent breath of schoolchildren,\” attributed to Jewish sages, first century Talmud.
\”So, tell me, what are you looking for in awoman?\” I ask.
\”Someone kind and gentle, intelligent, educated,cultured, witty, fun, a professional, independent, but interested intraditional things, Jewish, haimish, warm, family-oriented…andthin, tall, attractive, blond, well-dressed.\” He continues, but Irealize already that I know him. He\’s my 3-year old. The open mouthof the infant: \”I want, I want, I want.\”
I know what he wants: a Playboy playmate who willadore him, cook like his mother but make no demands on hissoul.
He isn\’t alone. He belongs to a whole culture ofchildishness.
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