I love to read the personal ads in such publications as The Times Literary Supplement – it is highly entertaining. These are definitely not your “I’m looking for a soulmate. I would love to walk on the beach with you” ramblings of the folks on Match.com.
Anyway, here is an article about personal ads. It’s very funny.
Catherine Keenan, the Australian author, lists ads from literary and academic journals – such gems as the following came from The London Review of Books:
Some chances are once in a lifetime. Not this one, I’ve been in the last 12 issues. Either I strike gold this time or I become a lesbian. Man, 43.
And:
67-year-old disaffiliated flaneur, jacked-up on Viagra and looking for a contortionist trumpeter.
See what I mean? They’re addictive.
The article analyzes the difference between personal ads in America, and those in England. The people who place the ads in England, apparently, (and not too surprisingly) are much more willing to be self-deprecating about themselses:
Public school failure. Insipid, directionless, probably poor in bed. Looking for M or F reason to take life seriously.
or to use wit as the primary attraction (with an underbelly of twisted sexuality, as seen in this ad):
Must enjoy computer battleships, segregated bathrooms and respect my mother by wearing clothes just like hers (cavalry twill, mainly.)
The people who place the ads in America are much more positive and cheery, much more willing to sell themselves (“I’m a good-looking guy … women tell me they like my eyes … I have a good sense of humor”) – and also are very very specific about the appearance of the mate they seek.
Examples from the article:
Resembles a petite Julia Roberts.
…the sophistication of Diana Rigg combined with likeness to Lady Diana (cheekbones, eyes, hair)
A piecemeal woman. Just what the doctor ordered.
Dear Sheila:
Your comment, “…a piecemeal woman…” captures rather perfectly an exchange I had with an acquaintance of mine some time ago — he was asking for my help in writing his Match.Com ad.
When he read it back to me, I said, “Jee-zus! Do you want fries with that?”
He didn’t get it. Nor did he get the next 1/2-hour that I spent trying to get him to look at himself. Perhaps the Ozzies have it right — forget the rest; just have fun in the process; it’s random; anyway….
Cheers!
-Will
Piecemeal women? That’s easy, just move to LA.
I’ll stick with the natural sort, preferably 100% Julia Roberts free.
It’s true – Americans seem to view self-deprecation as a sign of weakness. Most folks seem to think nirvana lies in finding the perfect embodiment of one’s cookbook recipe of desired demographic characteristics.
Of course, intellectuals have their own set of highly problematic issues. Thinking about the odds we face is depressing.
Who the heck started this thread?
;-)
One of the most attractive qualities (to me) is a willingness to be self-deprecating (in a humorous way, though…not in a pathetic way). I find it to be universally a sign of intelligence: An ability to make fun of oneself.
Humor is the key, as far as I’m concerned. People who don’t have a sense of humor about themselves just aren’t much fun to be around.
I only went on one date with a guy a couple years back – because I had to say to him, “That was a joke…” or “I was kidding” with every other sentence. There was no sensitivity there to – comedy.
Around the 5th time I had to say, “That was a joke!” – I thought to myself: “I never want to see this person again.”