Good to be home

Weird-arse day. Aside from the usual work-related craziness, met a nice young (-er than me, anyway) woman for coffee on Chapel St. Nothing particularly weird about that, you say dear reader, only — embarrassing admission time — the whole thing was set up by my father and her uncle who know each other from synagogue.

This is the second — and quite possibly last — time I’ve ever agreed to let my parents talk me into this. But the even more embarrassing part is, they’ve done very well both times. I mean, the first one didn’t work out and it’s too soon to tell with this one but the Sydney-Melbourne thing doesn’t bode well . . . but the folks do a pretty good job of finding women I’m compatible with intellectually and in values. And they’ve both been pretty good to look at, too. (Nu, so why are they single? But then why am I?)

For a swingin’ man about town who eats bacon and seafood and does many other non-kosher things, it is of course acutely disconcerting that I’m even considering making my parents happy by finding a nice Jewish girl to marry (let’s not pretend this is about my parents finding me a friendship or casual relationship, eh?). When I consider the alternative — what it was like when I was with C — that’s not pretty either. But when did I stop living my life the way I wanted to?

Very odd and intense discussion with (mostly) father on the way to the airport about horror movies with spiritual themes, specifically The Exorcist and Don’t Look Now. Discussed some ideas for a film script with dad only to realise it was a re-working of something he had done and told me about years ago. Oops. But I like my idea better . . .

After yet another much-delayed flight (cheers, Qantas!), the cabbie on the way home after asking me if I was married launched into a tirade about how his wife left him for another man 20 years ago, taking their two kids with her. (Ah, but were they his? I didn’t dare ask.) The bloke didn’t see his son for nearly 20 years and still hasn’t seen his daughter since she was a baby. Of course he proclaimed complete innocence — he wasn’t violent or drunk or anything, he said. (Who knows if that’s true either? But again, it wouldn’t be polite to ask.)

Just another random example of what I was talking about a while back. If you take the bloke’s story at face value, he’s had his life pretty much destroyed and the legal and family courts system has completely screwed him over. (Even the words ‘family court’ made him laugh derisively.) While he’s spent a couple of decades denied access to his children — and whinging bitterly to anyone who’ll listen — his ex-wife has had free rein to poison their minds against him — which is what it sounds like from what he said about meeting his son. How can people be that selfish and irresponsible?

Could I be falling into my parents’ trap of wishful thinking that nice Jewish girls don’t do this sort of thing to their husbands? Is that why I’m even considering this whole set-up business? The denial fairy may pay regular visits over at chez vealmince senior but she’s not welcome here.

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