Deep Thoughts (Or: Love, Weirdo Style.)

In my brief, almost seven month absence, I have made a few attempts at one might call “leading a normal life.” This isn’t to imply that we classic film fans are inherently abnormal, simply because of what we enjoy, it’s just saying that I may not be totally normal, on a regular basis.

Friends, Romans, Countrymen… I gave online dating my best shot. While I received many messages about how unique and funny my profile was, I received an equal amount of messages that belonged in one of two groups. A.) Random hook ups. B.) What are you looking for?

Since none of the actual conversations I had ever panned out, I’ve had time to ponder the question of what I am looking for, not just in a relationship, but in life. Of course, after coming up with a small list of demands, I was met with my own dilemma. Are some of us old movie weirdos just completely undateable?

First off, look at the range of emotion many of us display, by doing a quick scan of the tribe, via Twitter. In a matter of moments, we can go from laughing at the preposterous notion that two idiots could fall in love, in seconds, to sobbing uncontrollably BECAUSE DAMNIT, WHY DID YOU LOOK UP, DEBORAH KERR?! The odd part about this is that, while we do have our freak outs, the females of the fandom are generally the most laid back, level headed dames you could ever hope to meet. We are witty and clever and able to hold our own quite well.

So what’s the deal? Perhaps we’ve all just been ruined by the likes of Joel McCrea. Are WE expecting too much? I certainly don’t find that to be the case. Hell, half of us (excluding myself because no, never, get out of my life) had or have a bit of a crush on this one dude who walked out on his wife, all, “You are a hot mess, and I do not even care what happens to you.” (Look at me, not plagiarizing Margaret Mitchell.) I can’t speak for the rest of the tribe, but my personal ideal of true love is Nick and Nora Charles who, while totally smokin’ hot humans, spent a fair share of their time jokingly hating on each other.

OH SNAP. Did I just get to the root of the whole thing? Are we just proving that old saying that nice guys finish last? Are we pining after a dream of matrimonial lovehate? Aw, man, are we all competing for some Nick Charles/Han Solo hybrid man, who will respond to our professions of love with lines like, “I know, and that’s why I’m going to let you buy me a drink.” AND THEN HE WILL WINK AND TWEAK OUR NOSES.

That sounds terrible… and ridiculously attractive, thus negating my initial comment.

If you’re that guy, call me.

I'm ready for you, Nick Solo.

I’m ready for you, Nick Solo.

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