Where Have all the Real Men Gone?

In a world that is inundated by dating reality shows, dating websites, speed dating, mixers, and social networking websites, I have come to the realization that there is no romance anymore.  Where is that guy, from whose perspective Frank Sinatra croons, "Strangers in the night, exchanging glances, wandering in the night, what were the chances, we'd be sharing love, before the night is through. . ."  We all want a quick fix, that physical gratification.  We want all of our senses to be simultaneously pleasured to the maximum force.  

Dating websites grown like weeds, taking over the internet and sucking up all of the resources.  All of them claim to have the secret to finding us the loves of our lives.  They seem so generic and superficial.  We list all of our physical speculations and requirements, kind of like a resume.  If you meet the standards based on how hot you look in your picture and how catchy your subject line is, you may get a match or two.  Frankly, it reminds me of going to a bar, where people let their guards down with a sense of anonymity.  People put these professional glamour shots, which depicts an aspiring actress/actor/model type.  In bars, the lighting is a little off and people visually impaired by their alcohol consumption.  They wind up with someone who is ready and willing, only to find out that the person really looks like crap in the morning.  

Reality dating shows are just a reflection of the downgrading of humanity as we know it.  Television producers visit the shallowest of gene pools to find the participants for their trash orgy, known as "The Bachelor" or "Rock of Love" or "Flavor of Love".  Of course, I find these things a source of entertainment and self-prophecy.  Most of the actual seekers of love are seekers of attention and self-promotion.  They get to live in a posh mansion filled with unlimited, flowing booze and a house requirement that one must cover less than 10% of her body with clothing.  Of course, where alcohol flows, silicon implants show, with some of these women having superhuman mammary glands, probably nuclear fembots in disguise.  

The art of romance, wooing a potential partner, and really appreciating someone is completely extinct.  Men don't want to work very hard to impress a lady, and ladies are very rare.  Chicks, on the other hand, are rampant, and require no effort.  Everyone looks for the easiest conquest, who requires little conquering.  Unfortunately, there are endangered species, such as myself, who still yearn for passion, romance, and true love. 

Single Awareness Day and the Tale of the Bird Whisperer

So, I survived another annual Single Awareness Day, on February 14.  I feel irritated with how utterly commercial and stupid the whole Valentine's thing is.  My fondest memories are from elementary school, when we made those dumb boxes, had Valentine Cards for all of our classmates, and had a little party where we collected sugary, processed sweets.  Now, I am attacked by television advertisements, consumer specials, and annoying couples. . .everywhere.  Since I am trying to turn over a new leaf and be more open to meeting people in less traditional methods, I decided to take the eHarmony personality inventory.  Every other commercial on the television was showing how these actors are pretending to be people who were "matched" and had been "communicating" for the last 5 years.  So, I thought, why not?  I will see who my matches are for free.  This personality test consists of about 1,000 questions.   Supposedly, these questions are designed to find the real person inside and match everyone appropriately.  However, the questions are the dumbest questions I have ever seen.  It was to the level of, "If you were to be a tree, which would you be and why?"  Then, after you answer that question, there are these follow up questions, like: "I would allow a dog to pee on my trunk, often-sometimes-never", to ellicit one's true personality.  I lost interest when it was time to upload a picture.  I didn't have time, and didn't feel like having some weird dude look at my picture and do who knows what with it.  Since that day, a week ago, I have gotten no less than 30 emails a day, with subject lines like, "It's time for you to meet your match David" and "Don't you want to know what you and Dhiraj have in common?"  Obviously, my answer is no.  Today, they sent me the best email subject line: "Are you a skeptic?"  Yes, folks, I am.  I don't believe that the love of my life is going to be pinpointed on some dating website that uses hot people in commercials who would never need to be on a dating website, because they're hot and everyone wants to date them. So, I may just decide to upload a photo and try it out, who knows.

Nonetheless, I hosted the 2nd annual Single Awareness Day party for a few of my fellow independent, unattached friends, with fried food and wine.  One of my friends, I will call the "Bird Whisperer".  The Bird Whisperer had a family of blue jays who built a nest on her patio.  She closely watched the mother bird constructing a nest, which was a very precise and detailed process.  Bird Whisperer then watched the eggs hatch, the baby birds grow, and eventually, leave the nest.  She became obsessed with these birds, and even photographed every stage of their lives.  She told us a story about one day, when she was going to her mailbox.  All of a sudden, she heard the frantic, distressed cries of a group of blue jays, who had all come together to help the couple.  She looked at the blue jays, and then noticed that one of the youngsters was trying very hard to escape from a neighborhood stray cat.  My friend dropped her mail and ran to the rescue of the young blue jay, by shooing away the cat (who missed his meal for the day), and safely placing the young bird into the tree.  Therefore, she has now reached the ranks of Cesar Milan, with her ability to communicate and understand the cries of the blue jays.  Her sister just calls her a crazy bird lady.