Theme Parks, Middle-Aged Lust, and What To Tell My Daughter?
Sometimes I don’t know what to tell my teenage daughter about men and about the world.
I have great damage to undo because I stayed for many years in a marriage with a man who resented rather than loved me and acted out that resentment every day. Her norm for the relationship between a man and woman became that. We failed as parents in that respect.
If wish I could go to a relationship store somewhere and find the man who would want me and help me to show her what it means when a man and woman who say they love each other also honor and cherish each other. And laugh and have fun while they do that. For awhile I looked for that man but then other realities of life intervened. In a way it seemed like looking for a unicorn.
So I gave up and since we live in Orlando I take my daughter to theme parks instead. One would think that at a theme park there would be happy families with loving moms and dads or honeymoon couples playing out lust and love on roller coasters. Then I could point these people out and say, “Look. That is what you want.” Doesn’t happen.
Instead my daughter and I were in the “single” line yesterday for the Mummy ride. “Single” in this context is not like a “singles” bar or it is not supposed to be. Lines for rides can be long. So if one doesn’t mind sitting alone on a ride or separated from companions they stand in the “single” line. When a ride that holds eight people is filled by a family of seven from say Uruguay then the single rider takes that last seat. Being willing to do that reduces the amount of time one spends in lines for rides by several hours in a theme park day. Thus we spent only 10 minutes in the line for the Mummy ride. Ten very long minutes.
There were two men and two women in front of us. It was 100 degrees according to heat index and the men who were in their late 40s (my age) had had much beer. So much one could smell it from three feet away in this scrunched up line. Both were wearing wedding rings. There were two attractive but plus size women in their 20s standing behind them. Long story short right in front of me and my daughter introductory pleasantries were exchanged between the two men and two women and arrangements were made for them to return to the men’s hotel for more beer after the ride. Took five minutes for one of the men and one of the women to begin what might be called “making out” in front of us.
Explaining to my daughter why men who were roughly her father’s age were picking up women only a few years older than her was difficult.
I gave up on the rides and suggested we go to a movie at CitiWalk. Since it was 100 degrees and we had an hour to kill my daughter asked if we could go to Margaritaville for a cheeseburger. There is a long porch with many fans alongside the restaurant where some guy who looks like Jimmy Buffett 30 years ago sings Buffett and Chesney songs. He sang a Travis song for me to make up for that horrible Rascal Flats song he performed called “What Hurts The Most” that always depresses the hell out me. The Travis song was “Forever and Ever” which is of course a fantasy.
So my daughter had her cheeseburger and I had calamari and the only blue drink I will imbibe which is a margarita turned blue by pineapple liqueur. The next situation was my fault because I told my daughter to look at “the ring” worn by blonde woman at the table next to us. The woman was with her husband and another couple and they were all pleasant, attractive, and seemed well-to-do. The men were of course 20 years older than the women who were in their late forties like me. Anyway “the ring” was something awful and scary to behold with a center diamond the size of a dime encircled by 12 smaller diamonds (my daughter counted) and a band also encrusted with diamonds all around. The woman could have punched someone with that ring and caused major damage. We had to pretend we were laughing at the singer so she would not get mad and punch us.
Then we went to see the Hangover which is a funny movie. I am going to Vegas in a few weeks so it was cool to see the hotel I was going to stay at in a few scenes. However, the movie is about men in their thirties and forties who have a disastrous and/or hilarious bachelor party for their buddy. The women in the movie include a screaming shrew, a young bride who seems to be a shrew in training, a distracted young mother, and of course the young stripper with a heart of gold. The only main character not associated with a woman is of course the dorky loner wearing a man purse who is the bride’s brother. Thus he gets to go to the bachelor’s party with the cool guys. One of the major laughs at the end of the movie is a slideshow of photos showing the dorky guy getting a blow job from a middle-aged woman with mom hair wearing a “church” dress.
I do sound bitter. I am sorry. Men in their forties who are my age remind me of men who were teenagers when I was a teenager. I did not want to date teenagers then and I don’t much want to date men in their forties now. Middle-aged men like middle-aged women do seem to go through a crisis or transitional phase caused by changing hormones and bodies. As teenagers those bodies are becoming. In middle age those bodies are deteriorating.
When I was a teenager I liked to date men who were in their late 20s. They had lived through their teenage years and come out the other side somewhat older and wiser but most importantly kinder. This is why now my male friends tend to be those past middle age who have also come out the other side older, wiser, and kinder. Just friends. I’m not dating. I seem to be well on my way to reclaiming virginity ;0)
That woman with the awful ring? She might have been the gold digger my daughter proclaimed her to be. Or she might have been a woman who wanted to spend time with a grownup.