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Post 5: Your Profile

What am I good at?
“Taking it one day at a time. I put my trousers on one leg at a time, most days. On Monday, Wednesday and Friday I put my left sock on before my right and Tuesday Thursday and Saturday I switch that up ‘cause I’m a clever and creative fella. Sunday? Leather sandles and hairshirt.”

What am I doing.
“Also, taking it one day at a time. No sense sharing additional or genuine information. I’m the guitar-playing man brushing up against Clever McCleverbuddy. I am a closed book with an open fly.”

Guitar man? There are lots of them. Subtext? “I never grew up? I have no money? I’m an independent spirit–code-name: groovy misogynist?” The guitar is at least a woman-shaped object in his arms. He’s fervently clutching his baggage while espousing a devil-may-care approach to life. He calls himself sensitive and talks about intimacy but he’s ever so well defended against it.

And he’s a fixture on dating sites. It’s one thing when a guy’s stuck on his guitar, exploring what he wants to do with his life when he’s 27. But when he’s had little or no visible means of support for most of the intervening years (and a couple of marriages to drain off whatever might have accumulated,) at 57-or-so my guess is he’s hiding behind that guitar. And no, I have no basis for saying that. Just tired, I guess.

My questions: Why is this such a common trope? I’m thinking the guitar is for the male what the decadent chocolate dessert is for the female. But chocolate doesn’t take up as much time, render you incapable of conversation, or put a large physical object between you and the person you say you might be wanting to get to know. Is it the consolation prize for winners of the loneliness sweepstakes? Mind you, I’m very supportive of musical outlets …

Oh and Mr. Sometimes-Maybe (guitar or otherwise)–wouldya please shave?

Doesn’t anybody shave anymore?