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Kissing in Manhattan

Kissing in Manhattan.  It’s the name of a book i’ve been reading by David Schickler.  Funny how a book titled “Kissing in Delaware” or “Making Love in Omaha” probably wouldn’t fly off the shelves the same way.  Sexy just sells and Manhattan has enough electrifying sexiness to keep the entire city lit in the next blackout. 

But who knows?  Knowing me, curious and always on the lookout for hidden gems, I’d probably read both the Delaware and Omaha versions.  The hopeless romantic I am.  I’ve never been to either place but do know a thing or two about small towns, farm country life and the dynamics of relationships in each.  I was raised in and around both and am listening to one of thousands of my favorite country love songs right now, called, well “the love song” by Jeff Bates.  So I realize in writing the comment about the book title’s appeal, that’s definitely not saying much about the eternally universal experience of L-O-V-E that has existed since the beginning of men and women have been faced with discovering one another and figuring out what the hell to do with the magic that comes from that beyond simply reproducing.

Anyway, denying that love is certainly timeless and exists everywhere would be rather ignorant of me.  Without a doubt some of the greatest love stories ever told are surely being lived out right now in every corner of the world, even down to some no name town on one long dirt road with nothing but cows and tractors, where the simple life, simple dreams and blue collar values I was raised with are the only way.  Can we say, “The Notebook”? a movie I have probably watched just about as much as I have the Pixar movie “Cars,” with my nephew (52 times the last I checked).   

Anyway, kissing in Manhattan is just obviously a more fitting read for me right now – an oddly touching representation of my love-life, an interesting series of stories about unique 20 and 30 something’s, many in a constant push-pull game of both quest and avoidance of the one thing deep down everyone craves – love and acceptance, attracted to the stability and comfort of it one second and terrified of the consequences if it doesn’t work out the next.  It speaks of good intentions turned seemingly cruel and that tangled web some of us weave that can nearly chokes to death what we all want and need.  It’s been a relatable ride that I literally live day in and day out, in the exact same places with the exact same types of characters, trying to figure out where love, relationships and friendships really stand for each in what often seems like the biggest adult playground on earth.  I’ve always felt that anyone who comes here as the right to figure that out for him/herself.  It’s a place where I’ve heard guys say that every day they walk down the street and see at least 3 woman who they feel they want to marry and make babies with and women who can easily make 7 dates in 3 days but in the end most everyone tells themselves they are too busy to do anything less than hook-up and move on unattached, only to soon whine and complain that they are still alone and they don’t know why. 

It’s true.  New York is a place filled with some of the seemingly most passionate, but ironically lonely souls, most both blessed and plagued by their own drive and sacrifice as individuals to make dreams reality, held back by guards protecting one’s survival and sanity, weighed down by a few bags filled with supposed lessons of life and love gone wrong in other times and other places.

Or maybe that’s just me. 

My favorite characters are Hannah and Patrick who fight against all of this, each finding bizarre but interesting ways to bring out the best in someone who obviously needs it and ultimately share intimate moments with them “that make angels want to become human”….    

Now listening to Foreigner’s “I want to know what love is”…change it? It’s perfect right now. 

I do realize I haven’t come this far in life, love and loss to lie to anyone, especially myself, and I’ve learned that continuing down a road that is suddenly leading to somewhere you don’t really want to go with someone you don’t really want to go with, only hurts everyone in the end.  It is just not my way and never will be.  I’ve never cheated on anyone and never will because of it.  Chastise the real cheaters, not me.  I shall not compromise my own integrity or beliefs by denying myself or anyone who is here of the almighty TRUTH, something to be inked on my body with reason and meaning to me, something that can be both ugly and disturbing, but once put on the table, can only lead to greater things for everyone who can face it, something I can only pray some of us still live and strive for, since in the end that’s what we all should be lucky to have anyway.  Anything less just sucks and I honestly don’t know how some people do it.  I imagine those are the cheaters.  Cheating themselves and the person they are with. 

It’s about as dumb as me acting like I could actually be attracted to the frat boys turned Wall-streeters in business suits when I’d still rather be with “Tommy working on the docks” anyday.  I’m not driven or motivated by money, in my job or my personal life and never have been.  I wouldn’t know how to be even if I tried and the women in this town who are make me ill.

Ah T-R-U-T-H, the parent of a topic for another blog… T-R-U-S-T

Anyway, this was just a blog about a good book and a little about love and a little about my singledomhood. Yeah, that’s a word, don’t worry.