I don’t know. Let’s find out.

Last summer – before taking the plunge into the online dating waters – I was doing a lot of international travel, mostly for work. This meant lots of very long flights on which I got to catch up on a lot of movie watching. One of my favorite movies from that summer was “A Late Quartet.” The story follows a cellist after his diagnosis with Parkinson’s and his relationship to his string quartet. The all-star cast includes Christopher Walken, the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, Catherine Keener and Mark Ivanir. In one of the opening scenes of the movie is a quote that has continued to float through my mind from time to time. It is from Christopher Walken’s character as he is teaching a group of young musicians:

We begin with Beethoven’s Opus 131. It has seven movements and they’re all connected. For us, it means playing without pause, no resting, no tuning. Our instruments must in time go out of tune each in its own quite different way… What are we supposed to do, stop or struggle to continuously adjust to each other up to the end even if we are out of tune? I don’t know. Let’s find out.

There are many things I like about this quote and its applicability – not just to Beethoven but to life. There’s the nod to how much of life involves “playing without pause.” And how, in relationships, we are on both our own individual journeys and the journey that our relationships are on – sometimes going out of tune each in our own quite different ways. But I think what I like most about this quote is the acknowledgement that we have a choice – to stop or to find a way to adjust to each other (and, implicitly, to learn to be comfortable with things being out of tune for a time). And there is almost a sense of adventure in not knowing and finding out what is to come.

How we met…

In the midst of this whirlwind of first dates and despite one OMG-I-can’t-do-this-freak-out following the Baldy date, I continued to window shop in the online dating marketplace. I had lots of interesting email exchanges with several interesting men. One morning as I was going through the latest collection of potential matches that had been sent to me through the magic of online dating algorithms, I stumbled across a guy who described growing up in Texas (me), in a religious home (also me), and had opted out of religion as an adult (3 in a row!). Separated-but-not-yet-divorced. Dad of 2. His main profile pic was warm and smiley. Seemed worth an email.

I am an early riser, so most of my online dating window shopping took place while the online dating world slept. So I was surprised to get an email response early in the a.m. He was at his son’s swim practice with his daughter. Over the next several days, we exchanged several emails. Email conversations were easy. We talked about our shared Texas experience, what we have taken away from our exposure to organized religion, his kids, where he was (practically and emotionally) in the separation/divorce process, our jobs… In a moment of boldness, I suggested that maybe we could meet up sometime. Between his work schedule (he’s a musician, so most of his work is at night), his co-parenting responsibilities and my busy work schedule (in addition to my normally hectic schedule, I was traveling a fair amount at the time), it took a bit of effort to find a time when we were both available. We decided to meet up on a Wednesday night, after I got back from a quick trip for work.

Adventures in online dating…

If you’ve never done it before, online dating is a fascinating world. It’s like regular dating, but on speed. There are lots of ways to interact with people – you can send them a wink, like a photo they have posted, make them a favorite, or email them. Oh, and if someone sees that you’re online, they can start a chat session with you. The first time that happened was kind of startling.

Overall, I found people to be fairly nice and reasonably “normal.” There were a couple of notable exceptions – Like the guy who sent me a scathing email because I hadn’t responded to his wink or like of my photo (I forget which). I’m guessing that approach was not especially effective in landing him dates. Or the guy who wrote me a poem – as a first point of contact. A sweet gesture (if not a bit over the top), but the guy shouldn’t quit his day job – or perhaps he should use more than an online dating profile and a few pics as inspiration. I’m pretty sure I earned some extra time in Dating Purgatory for the amount of poem-mockery I led offline with my girlfriends.

Diving in…

About a year ago, I decided to try my hand at online dating. Some of my friends had (quietly) tried meeting people through the magic of the internet – some successfully, others not so much. But since it was not Raining Men – despite the promises of The Weather Girls, circa 1982 – I figured it was time to be a bit more proactive. I was a little apprehensive at first but figured the worst that could happen was that I’d maybe have a few bad dates and end up with some funny stories. OK. That’s not entirely true. I figured the worst that could happen was I could end up stuffed in someone’s trunk (or cooler). Or, more likely, I could end up emotionally steamrolled. I was just coming off of a whirlwind of a summer “romance” – the culmination of a four-year flirtation fueled by intellectual synergy and unbelievable chemistry, all of which ended abruptly, like the flipping of a light switch. I wanted not to repeat that experience.

So, I invited a few girlfriends over, opened up a couple of bottles of wine, and we started to tackle the daunting task of drafting my online dating profile. There was a lot I wanted to convey – about my hobbies, interests and passions (running, travel, eating), but, more importantly, about who I am (independent, loyal, driven) and what I was looking for. It was this last part that was in some ways harder to write about. Divorced at 25 and having navigated 2 5-year+ and 1 shorter-term relationship since then, I knew a lot about what didn’t work for me. But articulating what I wanted… that was tough.