Out of nowhere, my dear friend kissed me and declared his devotion. I swear I wasn't flirting!
Jun 26, 2001 | Mr. Blue spent a few days in Seattle last week, sampling the mussels and hanging out with Vietnamese friends and enjoying Midsummer Day and all. The mussels are good with butter and garlic, less good in coriander sauce. The friends, Kim and Long, say that Vietnamese in America tell a lot of jokes, about the Communist regime, about Vietnamese parents and their American kids, about everything, and to demonstrate, Long told a joke in Vietnamese to his son Michael, which the boy then translated for me. It was the one about the boy and girl parked in a car, necking, and the sheriff pulls up and shines his light in the window, and the boy bursts into tears, and the sheriff asks why, and the boy says, "Because in five minutes I'll turn 18."
A joke slightly bowdlerized by the father, I believe. Anyway, it was funny when Michael told it. At least he thought so.
The Swedes in America realized a hundred years ago that they'd lose Swedish and that the loss would not necessarily be fatal to their Swedishness, and now the Swedes of Seattle, many of them hopelessly intermarried with Norwegians and Danes, gather for Midsommar Dag on the 24th, and celebrate with a Maypole and garlands of fresh flowers and a gang of 15 fiddlers from the Skandia Folk Music Society, men and women from 16 to 60, in Swedish costumes from the 19th century, sawing away at the old walking-tunes and dances.
Between the old Swedish emigrants and this hardworking Vietnamese family, there is a common story. They came with nothing, worked hard, put themselves through college and shower the blessings on their American children. But at Midsummer Day, one is reminded of how much is beyond our ken and our control. The sun shines and that makes all the difference, work as hard as we will.
Seattle isn't known for sunshine. The pioneers, driving their wagons over Homestake Pass and Lookout Pass and Snoqualmie Pass and seeing the ocean and the gray sky and the persistent mists of Seattle, certainly realized that life was now changed for them and they'd never be dry again. People who live in Seattle love it to the point of wearing you out listening to them. It's like your parents telling you how wonderful the Swendson girl is and why you ought to date her. You meet former Minnesotans who tell you how much they don't miss the snow back home and the summer heat and mosquitoes and how it's so flat back there and so fabulous here: How could you not want to be here? Believe me, a person can find a way.
Perfection isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's lovely, in a way, but in the end, it makes me sleepy, and I have to leave. Really good seafood is not compensation enough for feeling drowsy.
A woman writes emphatically, regarding Wanting More, the 27-year-old in New York who wants to adopt a baby: "No one should ever intentionally take on single parenting no matter what resources they have access to. Being a big city (accidental) single parent of two children myself I could list thousands of reasons why this is a horrible idea but the only one that matters is that the children grow up without two parents and that's just not fair to them. It is entirely selfish of anyone to force a child into an unhealthy situation, such as single parenting, right from day one. Adoption may be a valid way to go if you are willing to take on some special needs. If you really are interested in being a mother, you should seriously consider adopting the kid that has been a ward of the state for several years that "no one wants" -- then sit down and think about if you really are ready to do this on your own. You need to think of what is best for the child(ren) not just your own wants and needs. What's really best for him/her/them?"
A gentleman responds, in re Roommate, the young lady miffed because she is not invited to her boyfriend's family holidays: "In some families, it is not appropriate for girlfriends to travel and stay with the family, and some young men respect their parents enough not to flaunt their unmarried sexual relationships by dragging along the latest girlfriend and expecting Mom and Dad to say nothing when you take her to bed in their house. In some families, that is still looked upon as trailer park behavior."
I am in my early 30s, divorced from an oaf, have two wonderful children, a ho-hum job, a cancer history, a mountain of debt and passable looks. I have always subscribed to the theory that men and women can be friends. Just friends. I am beginning to wonder if I may be mistaken.
I've had this problem since high school. I meet a guy, establish a perfectly nice platonic friendship and then wham! Out of nowhere comes the unsolicited kiss or declaration of devotion. To which I react badly and pfft! there goes the friendship.
This time is the worst. I have been friends with this man for seven years. He is a very, very dear friend to me; both the kiss and the declaration came as a complete surprise. I reacted badly, by not responding. But something is (obviously) expected and I've spent days walking around with a pit of dread in my stomach that we'll never get this friendship back to where it was.
Have you any advice for this particular situation and the quandary in general? I really truly am not a flirt.
Kissed
Dear Kissed,
Nothing stays exactly what it was, and friendships evolve and shift, whether one friend lunges at the other or not. Men and woman can be friends and are, and some lunge and others never do; but in either case, don't make a big deal of it. Your avoiding your friend makes this a Big Deal and he starts to imagine that he's done the Unmentionable and Unforgivable Thing. Good Lord, it's only a kiss and an awkward overture. It's easily deflected. You smile, you say, "You are so sweet, so generous, that's the thing I love about you, but I don't have romantic feelings about you. I just don't." And you smile and squeeze his hand and you go on. We're not bone-china teacups that crack if anyone looks at us cross-eyed. You say you're not a flirt, and I'll bet you are, but it doesn't matter: This is not a dire or desperate situation. Play it for laughs.