You'd Better Get Back Honky Cat


My therapist recently made an astute observation.

"You should be dating men who are on the same income level you are and intelligence level."

Among my crazies is the occasional time when someone says something or I see something and a suddenly a song pops into my head.

"You'd better get back Honky Cat" screeched though my head. Cause, you know, dating these days is like trying to get liquor from a bottle of wine.

Dumbfounded. I sat for a moment and replied. "That's not going to work for me."

Of course, he wanted to know why. I explained. I'm not interested in those guys. Well, then, he wanted to know what kind of guy are you interested in? "The kind who does the right thing."

"What is the right thing," he prodded.

"I don't know. The Right Thing."

It didn't go much farther. I suppose he concluded the conversation was pointless.

But my point is quite valid, honky cat.

A man who does the right thing? When's the last time you saw a high powered executive pull his $80,000 car off the interstate to help a stranded woman with a flat tire on her battered 1990 Subaru? You don't see it. And, if you do, do you know what that man is?

Married. That man is married.

A good match for me isn't about money. I pay my own bills, thank you very much. I don't want a dime. Nor do I prefer to support him. I don't really care about anything that money can buy. I can buy my own things. Nor, do I care for someone who doesn't understand that money means nothing beyond providing for the care and existence of the lives of the people you love. I can't love people who love money.

No, the man I'm looking for gives me things that I could never buy. Like making me feel beautiful when I wake up grumpy from a night of tossing and turning from lucid dreaming. Or, leaving a note on the dash of my car -- just because. A man that isn't intimidated by my day job or intelligence and is patient enough to get past my usual guarded nature to the depths of compassion and love that dwell deep within. A man who is a complement to my life and who thinks that I kind of make his life a whole lot better, too.

Doing the right thing? Try trust. Loyalty. Fidelity. Honesty. Kindness. Humility. Humor. Hope.

A good man isn't about the talk of the man. It's about the walk of a man. Anyone can talk the talk of being a man who would do the right thing. Talking about it -- that's just words. I already know what words can be used to accomplish. Show me your walk. Then, maybe we'll talk.

I've gone on too many first-last dates. I've been asked over dinner, within 30 minutes of meeting for the first time, how much money I make. Check please.

I've watched the shadow cross a man's face when I accidentally use a big word. I've learned that being told "you're really smart" isn't always a good thing. Some men are intimated. Others want to have a battle of wits and facts. I'd prefer a soul penetrating conversation that tips and turns from educational, to inquisitive to silly.

I don't mind the ballet or symphony hall. But, I'd rather spend the day with you at the flea market looking around, talking and people watching. I'd challenge you to challenge me to be spontaneous because generally I over-think things and plan them out. Help me reach out and grab the freedom of not following what The Grasshopper "ought" to be doing.

I don't mind dressing up. But, I can rock a pair of yoga pants now and I'd much rather do something low-key than high-strung more often than not.

Eating at a nice restaurant is just that -- nice. It isn't required. I actually dig Waffle House and Krystal and my kids don't like either, so that would be a treat.

My car is a piece of junk. Yes, a new car would be nice. But, as long as it starts and is reliable, it's considered to be a part of my family. When Vivienne leaves us, I'll be sad. I don't care if a man likes and has a nice car. Good for him. I'm just saying I'm not expecting or needing to be kept up in luxury while navigating Atlanta traffic.

What I do expect? That you'll ask me about me. And, you'll tell me about you. That you'll understand that I'm not perfect and I'm hard on myself about that. I don't need you to keep pointing out my flaws. I expect you to be self-aware enough to know you're not perfect either. I expect you to never stop growing. 

But at the end of the day, honkey cat, what I want is a man who does the right thing because that's what is in him.

So I will continue to mine for gold in a silver mine...

2 comments:

  1. I will admit that I am looking at this blog for the first time in longer than I should have. This is by far my favorite post I have seen. I have lived at both ends of the income scale and it looks like you have it figured out. No matter how big our house or how new and fancy our car, we are all buried in about the same sized grave. My question is who will be buried with a smile and the satisfaction of knowing our family and close friends know we love them with all we have? Perhaps this question makes me old. I have recently learned that I am a relatively young man with no issues being considered old! You are one good woman even if your timing may be slightly off! :)

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  2. I agree with the first comment to this post. I also have lived at both ends of the income scale. Ok...not George Soros to Oliver, but close enough to appreciate these words. I was happier as a broke entrepreneur (or even a floor sweeper) than I was as a CEO of a software company.

    Too many people do not understand "The right thing." Those of us raised to understand seem to be a dying breed.

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