I'm struck, entering the dating scene in my 50's, that I'm a quirky fellow.
I had a dream that I was explaining my undergraduate philosophy experience to a teacher as I went for a PhD. I woke up and was disappointed because I couldn't finish my circumstantial narrative.
But I don't like American philosophy, though I fought it mightily when I was trying to get into it. I'm more partial to a wider exploration of life's questions that includes literature and psychology.
I read through Shakespeare recently and I've started on a second run through. I'm into Thomas Pynchon.
Meanwhile I'm looking through dating profiles where she likes the beach, being treated like a lady, honesty and animal lovers. I'm pretty sure I've missed the happiness boat. That's fine, meaningful was what I was shooting for. But it's an unpopular narrative.
My son has the same problem. He's got all kinds of ideas about video games and movies. I have sympathy for the unpopular narrative, makes me an OK listener. But my son has become a laconic teenager.
There's a running joke in sitcoms where a narcissist points out that he doesn't think his friends are reading his blog. I don't inflict my friends in such a way. I know these are blog thoughts.
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