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Tuesday, 03 October 2006 18:24 |
| The Advice Goddess
Amy Alkon |
How does one ease a man through a midlife crisis? This man was my professor, and we became fast friends after he asked me to work in his lab. Heës at the top of his game, handsome, charismatic and brilliant beyond words. One day, he confided in me that he was feeling old. Before long, he lost weight, bought an entire new wardrobe, and traded in his old car for a $72,000 Porsche. If it makes him happy, good. But, at the end of the day, where will it leave him? Iëm really afraid heës going to divorce his wife for arm candy and move into a teepee. To be honest, we used to be very attracted to each other, but because heës married, we chose never to act on it. Although he no longer speaks to me regularly, or as openly as he used to, itës still painful to see what heës going through. What can I do to help?
ÇƒÓ Hurting For Him
Itës
a wonder the Red Cross ever has a moment for victims of fire, flood,
famine, and mudslides with all the men out there like your professor
friend suffering from the crisis of brand-new sports car ownership.
If the professor
is looking for meaning in life, do you really think heës more likely to
find it while behind the wheel of a late-model Volvo? Is he better
equipped to answer the big questions if heës wearing one of those
corduroy jackets with the worn elbow patches?
Even if shedding
the old him is symptomatic of a "midlife crisis," maybe what heës
experiencing isnët a crisis at all, but the realization that itës time
he had a little fun.
The good news
is, he isnët sitting around despondent that he forgot to have a
misspent youth, or that heës squandered his life in science when he
couldëve been a gas station attendant and part-time drummer.
The bad news is he isnët sitting around despondent with you, his self-appointed life coach and spiritual nanny.
It wasnët long
ago that you were doing the noble thing, pulling back from what was
probably a combination man crush and professor crush: wanting him and
wanting to be him, but settling for huddling with him over the Bunsen
burner and helping him assess the spread of his crowës feet.
And look how he
rewards you: leaving you in the lab instead of inviting you along to
advise him on, say, the dangers of getting his tongue pierced, and
whether putting pictures of it on his MySpace page could hurt his
chances for the Nobel.
These days, your
only means of connection with him is acting as his surrogate worrywart,
fretting that his next late-model trade-in will be his late-model wife
ÇƒÓ in exchange for a girlfriend whose most recent accomplishment was
graduating high school.
But, no, really,
you just want to help. Sure you do ÇƒÓ but help him do what? Just
guessing, but . . . help him divorce his wife, rev the Porsche on over
to your place, and move into a teepee with you?
Beyond that, you
wonder where all this will leave him. Well, eventually, in a box with
friends tossing dirt on top. In the meantime, where is all this leaving
you? Focused on whatës missing from his life instead of whatës missing
from your own ÇƒÓ probably the guts to have more than an imaginary
relationship with a trophy boyfriend.
If only you
worked up the courage to risk rejection in a real relationship with a
peer, you could reap some pretty substantial rewards ÇƒÓ maybe having
love in your life, and, at the very least, sex that doesnët require a
Viagra/Metamucil booster.
ï
Got a problem?
Write Amy Alkon, 171 Pier Ave, No. 280, Santa Monica, CA 90405, or
e-mail AdviceAmy-at-aol.com (www.advicegoddess.com)
Quest for firing
I canët
understand why guys Iëve gone on a date with once or twice donët call
and tell me when they donët want to see me again. A friend says that
this would be cruel and unusual punishment. Your thoughts?
ÇƒÓ Silent Mistreatment
If a guy doesnët
call you again, itës probably due to one of two reasons: heës in a coma
or dead, in which case itës a bit much to expect him to pick up the
phone...or, heëd rather roll around naked in a pit of fire ants than
have sex with you. If thatës the case, wouldnët you rather cling to the
eminently more palatable idea that heës met some terrible end?
The real mystery
is why, despite your experience that guys donët make last-date
confirmation calls, you continue to expect one: "Hi, just a courtesy
call to inform you Iëll never call you again."
Of course, the
truly cruel and unusual punishment begins with the next logical step,
when you demand to know why: "Well, mainly because you look like
flesh-eating bacteria, only taller."
ï
Got a problem?
Write Amy Alkon, 171 Pier Ave, No. 280, Santa Monica, CA 90405, or
e-mail AdviceAmy-at-aol.com (www.advicegoddess.com)
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