Sex and the 60 - The Death of Aidan

The little knot of people stood huddled closely under the green tent. Their feet making the frozen grass crackle. It was an unusually cold winter day and most hoped that the service would not take long. Their minds drifted on to the needed visit to Stop and Shop and to getting home before the game began or to prepare dinner. Heads down, hands mostly clasp in front of them, they listened to the soft words of the rabbi as she went through the familiar rituals – rituals that signaled the end of a life. Then the intimates spoke. He was a good man, a great dad, a protective brother, a polite neighbor, and a generous grandpa...the obligatory words that manifest themselves at the grave – if nowhere else.

Those who were close to him knew him as judgmental, supercilious, and lacking a sense of humor. His ex-wife said he was a good provider and meticulous around the house. But later, after the divorce and meeting husband number two, she realized – it was his way or weeks of revenge and perhaps just as disturbing - he was a slug in bed…neither a quick learner nor a teacher he. His children learned to be very careful around him – not that he was a physical man, but one that was venomous and nearly impossible to please – a strict disciplinarian with not a sentimental bone in his body unless it suited his needs.

He was tall, 6’ 1” with a slender but athletic build. He was very handsome and youthful, disguising his advancing age. With salt and pepper hair – a full head and a clean shaven face, he looked like a man 20 years younger than his actual 68 years. Since it never occurred to him that he had a problem, he saw himself as the perfect mate and confidently described himself in his profile as: witty, charming, a one-woman man who was emotionally stable and financially secure. A man who could be counted on through thick and thin. Honest, loyal, with an irrepressible sense of humor. He talked about his hobbies - cooking, stock trading, and movies and his early retirement – having sold his business to a large conglomerate.

And then he mentions it --- yes IT -- the subject that makes women weak in the knees, that is like an addictive drug, an irresistible draw that sucks all reason out of her head. Yes, he writes about the TV series Sex and the City (http://www.sexandthecity.com/) . OMG, he watched the show – not many men did. And then he goes on to talk about Mr. Big and Aidan. What a dreamboat! He knows the characters in the show! Understands what they meant to a woman. “No”, he confesses, “I’m not Mr. Big. So ladies if you are looking for a bad boy this late in life – you’d better move along”. “Actually, I'm Aidan – thoughtful, kind, attentive and…” He doesn’t use this word but it is clear he is “Vulnerable”. I'm in Love. No really, there is nothing anyone can say. He’s it, the man, my new man! After loving Kevin for 37 years -- I have earned an Aidan in my life.

The last piece of the puzzle falls into place in his concise and competent email to me. “Hi neighbor”, he writes. "I live in town, you look and sound like someone I’d like to get to know”. Help me, I'm swooning. It's him, the Local Guy….as I mentioned last time – the Geriatric Dating Prize! He is the Royal Flush in matchmaking!

So I rush through the necessities, passing along my phone number, mastering the briefest of conversations to get to the coffee chat. And, well, I met this man the other day. And after a half a cup of exhaustingly boring and increasingly more hostile conversation (when I was not what he wanted me to be) I could clearly say: “Mister, I know Aidan and you’re no Aidan”.

He is dead to me!