What an excellent post! A superb conversation starter!
I am in London with my (handsome, sexy, funny, thoughtful, discretely masculine - oops! sorry! bragging!) husband… so I am kind of doubting we will be able to keep our old a$$es awake until the fun begins. We’ll watch on replay.
As for our attire? He’s in a lovely Pendleton wool robe in black watch plaid, and I am in a ratty black bra. We stylin’! 🤣
The amazing and most excellent Tim Walz will win. Hands down. I have no fear.
My ideal man comes from the same moral and ethical background as I do. We may not agree on small stuff but the basics are always aligned. I am partial to big, huggable teddy bear men with brains and sharp wit and humor, but looks are less important than character and kindness and humor. A love of books and cats is a must. For the debate, I will need a stiff G&T (or two) and maybe some popcorn to throw at Vance’s big stupid face. I will wear cute sweats so I will be comfortable when I bounce off the sofa in indignation or pace about, gesturing wildly, or applaud Coach Walz.
Not a teddy bear, but I hit the marks for brains, sharp wit and humor, love of books and cats (eight here). I can demonstrate kind from having been caregiver for my partner through her departure from Parkinson's. :-)
You should get a prize from the Cat Society of America, or at least from the Southern California branch, as well as a caregiver prize. The latter must have been very painful. And I think of you whenever cats come up. They just seem to home on you, as if its common knowledge among LA cats that you'll take 'em in to a good life if they haven't found one already.
Walz wins and if he doesn't he still gets 100% of my support. Neither Walz or Vance ring my chimes. I don't watch debates because I don't want to be influenced by who's the most glib and charming liar. I'm more of a policy wonk. Harris/Walz all the way on policy and moral character.
I met my ideal man over 50 years ago. It was a chemical attraction. I can't explain it because he was a college professor who looked like he fell off the back of a motorcycle. Which he did. He had broken bones when we met.
So there he was, this manly man, rough-looking, a professor, hard on the outside, soft on the inside. I was hooked, long before I knew if we were in tune politically, philosophically or spiritually. We are still amazed that our views are so much alike because we were both chemically intoxicated from the start. His worst habit is leaving the soy milk out on the counter after making his morning coffee. He doesn't drink, smoke, do drugs or gamble. He enjoys looking at wild women but he doesn't chase them. Maybe our chemicals were smarter than we knew.
My chemicals are repulsed by Trump and Vance. I mean, completely repulsed. I will never understand people who think they just fine.
He tells me he'd like to be thought of as a Renaissance Man, but never a courtier. Never a man of courtesy, always a rascal. His self-image is more along the lines of a Renaissance poet and wag. Just not a varlet, villain or a sleveen.
Sleveen was a new one on me. He pulls out these words and smiles at me like a devil. I looked it up. Trump and Vance are both terrible sleveens. Just terrible.
"Sleeveen" is an Irish word that describes a person who is untrustworthy, cunning, or sly. It's often used in business or politics to describe someone who uses smooth talk or underhanded means to get their own way. For example, you might describe a businessman who takes advantage of a deal as a "sleeveen".
The word comes from the Irish word slíbhín, which means "trickster" or "silver-tongued person". It's used in both Ireland and Newfoundland.
There are human pheromones. People who flip over each other tend to love each others' scent--generally at first whiff. I think the other thing that causes major attraction is the type of thing that attracts best friends to each other--a meeting of the minds. My father flipped over my mother the moment she walked into the boring statistics class on my father's first day of graduate school, February 8, 1946. But it took him a couple of weeks to get her to notice him. They went out on a couple of dates before the fourth weekend, during which both exited Cambridge. At the weekend's end, he was sitting in his dorm room on the third floor of his building, working on something, when there was a sound on the window, which he ignored. A few minutes later, it happened again, and he ignored it. The third time he heard it, he went to the window. There was my mother standing in the quad, looking up at his window. She'd been throwing stones at his window, and I can't tell you how out of character for her that seems!
Summer came, and they moved in together. They were married December 14, 1946, five days after my mother's divorce papers had arrived in the mail from Colorado.
A story about the pheromonal thing. In the '90s I had this neighbor, Ann, happily married with a couple of young daughters. Every now and then, Ann would say something to the effect that had she not met Eddie, she might have married me. I didn't get it, because I really didn't think Ann and I would have made a good couple, and I never had a crush on her. And she'd done well--Eddie was a really nice guy, who I'm sure always treated her well.
But one day, the family came home from somewhere, and the older daughter, who might have been 6, or 7, started asking me a bunch of interesting questions, which I enjoyed answering. I got the feeling that she was a very intelligent kid, and I took an interest in her after that. I can remember her showing me a school project she'd done, and more questions. When I left, she threw her arms around me, and said, "you smell just like my daddy!"
I'm not sure that's any different from my father flipping over my mother the moment she walked into the boring stats class on his first day of graduate school. She wouldn't have been 200 feet away from him, but the way he always told the story, it didn't sound like pheromones would have reached him before he reacted to her. And I've certainly flipped over women (or girls, as early as 7th grade) before they were close enough for me to smell them.
My ideal man is one who does not bother me, one who does not feel free to comment on my appearance or clothing. My ideal man is silent and does not inflict his pernicious opinions on me. They seem to be in short supply in my neck of the woods.
We have our own political mess here in Canada with Justin, Jagmeet and Pierre. So, I am going to stay in my lane with my fine neighbours to the South.
Nancy Greene, you have well described my Steve of many years but now no longer as he died a few years ago… but your description… well… I still cry occasionally missing him… but I now love another… he knows as he lost his wife… and here I sit on the edge of my bed with him. Life is not easy. There is love we never expected.
As an older woman pretending to be trying to date (these apps are useless!), I think a lot about what I'm really looking for. Not being a liberal is an automatic deal-breaker. I wear my politics on my sleeve. I am definitely a sapiosexual. I want to connect intellectually before anything else! My physical attraction will grow based on our emotional and intellectual alignment. Of course, I want to have some level of physical attraction to begin with, going in both directions. I want my partner to be as independent as I am, not needing to spend time together but looking forward to times when we do. I will be watching the debate, popcorn and cabernet are on the menu. The weirdo has no shot.
the number of years I spent on the apps, and the poor results I mostly got... I did not quite a year or so on one or two apps after the pandemic. (Most of the years were before the pandemic.) I think a major ingredient to a good relationship is coming together like best friends do at the beginning of a friendship--a meeting of the minds. That happened with only one of the people I got from the apps post-pandemic. The problem there, alas, was that she had trouble walking due to bad hips, and walking and hiking are huge parts of my life.
In, say, the 4-5 years before the pandemic, I was on the apps for at least half, maybe 2/3 of that time. They were either two far away (more than an hour by car) or we just didn't click. Some of these stupid apps have these complicated algorithms which they take much too seriously. Eharmony is number one with that problem. Theirs just don't effing work most of the time. And if you search on "dating apps suck" you'll come up with loads of sites discussing that problem.
1. Character? Authentic, mature, and emotionally self-aware.
Particular qualities? A good sense of humor, basic decency. Curiosity.
Flaws? My particular man is So. Freakin'. Contrary.
Looks? Not important to me. If I love him, he's gorgeous.
Philosophy? Kindness is best.
Work? Doesn't matter, though mine is a writer and a teacher.
Play? Almost anything is play when we're together.
2. Tim Walz is close. JD Vance is not even in the same universe.
3. I will be wearing pajamas in my bedroom, probably drinking bubble water, eating popcorn because I don't want to throw anything at my TV that would hurt it.
As for the bonus question ... Gov. Walz wins at being a human person and not a lying sack of pretentious, opportunistic, misogynistic, hypocrital, billionaire's butt monkey. So there's that.
(Had to laugh about what foods would be thrown at the television.)
I don't think I can bear to watch J. D. Vance, so it's unlikely I'll be watching--but instead will lurk on Twitter and read commentary about the debate.
Adore Tim Walz (I've seen comments from women I appreciate and follow on Twitter, like, "I'd die for that man!")--he is definitely my ideal man type--love the kindness, the steadfastness, the ability to look out for others and for the common good--showing, so importantly, that strength doesn't have to mean cruelty and punching down and zero-sum. (In fact, it DOESN'T mean that.)
It sure would be nice for a generation of boys to get to have a leader like him as a role model.
(Finishing a work project, but looking forward to coming back and reading everyone's posts!)
I’ve had my share of closeted lingerie and eyeliner wearing alpha males. True story.
It’s always the ones you least expect to steal your heart. My ideal was beach volleyball playing salsa dancing geeky intellectual. But I fell head over heels for a scuba diving golf playing smart ass 😹
I’m looking forward to watching tonight with some bubbly and popcorn. It should be a thorough thrashing by the good guys.
If an 'ideal man' would be created in a lab, he'd have the handsome sexiness of Paul Newman, the intelligence of Barak Obama, the humorous, biting wit of George Carlin and the voice of Sinatra. But the real and not so perfect man I've lived with for 26 years is quite intelligent, has a playful sense of humor, great patience and shows true love and respect for me. He supports women's rights and along with me, says he hopes to see Madame President Harris be inaugurated in January 2025.
My ideal man lives in my head and dares to surface because he’s just too good to be true…I choose Walz. And I will be in the raw with a large bowl of popcorn.
My man’s pretty ideal. Does all the things I am not good at doing and lets me do the things I am good at. He’s kind and has no problem helping others. It’s going to be a weird debate. Walz soothes me with his kindness and humor and Vance triggers me with his misogyny and rudeness. Going to watch with my finger on the mute just in case.
My ideal man is a perfect blend of Phil Dunphy's goofy optimism and Tim Walz's down-to-earth leadership. His character? The ultimate "cool dad" who tries to be everyone’s best friend and fails spectacularly in the most lovable way possible. Particular qualities? Humor, heart, and a flair for magic tricks, because nothing says, "I care" like pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Flaws? He’s a little too optimistic, bordering on delusional—like thinking his puns are always welcome (they’re not). What does he look like? Think: dad-next-door vibes, comfortable in slightly wrinkled khakis, a button-up shirt that's always half untucked, and a permanent grin.
Philosophy? “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, but also, don't forget to make a backup plan because lemonade is overrated.” Work? He’s in real estate, obviously, but he also moonlights as a motivational speaker, using phrases like "Stay cool under pressure, like a Popsicle in the freezer." Play? He’s the guy trying to convince you that karaoke night is good for the soul and organizes family game night with PowerPoint presentations.
2.
JD Vance? Let’s just say he doesn’t pull off the "cool dad" vibe—he’s more of that stern teacher you try to avoid eye contact with. Tim Walz, on the other hand, is practically *Phil Dunphy in Office*—a good-natured guy with cleverness tucked under his sleeves, ready to navigate the high school lunchroom *and* a government debate with the same witty swagger. He’s got the right mix of competence and self-deprecation, which makes him close to my ideal. Vance may write
propaganda books, but can he make kids believe he’s a magician? I think not.
3.
Tonight, I’m rocking my trusty multipocketed cargo pants—because every debate-watching session calls for maximum snack storage. Paired with a long-sleeve tee for comfort, I’m ready for anything. Watching? Probably slouched on the couch, armed with takeout from China A-Go-Go, because nothing says “I’m prepared to yell at the TV” like a pile of fried rice.
Eating? Oh, I’ll be starting with my go-to snack, but the minute they start discussing my reproductive rights like it’s their personal chess game, that sweet and sour chicken might just become an aerial missile aimed at the screen. Egg rolls are on standby too. Phil Dunphy would suggest magic to make them disappear, but sometimes, throwing food is its own kind of magic.
4.
Bonus Question: Who wins? Vance or Walz?
Easy—Walz. Why? Because anyone who can rule a high school lunchroom with charisma and charm can tackle a debate like it's a walk in the park. He’s witty, clever, and let’s face it, a debate is child’s play compared to managing teenagers. Sorry, Vance, but Walz’s got the magic on his side!
In actuality? No wins and everybody loses. What are you wearing tonight to watch the debate? Where are you watching? Will you be eating anything or do two men discussing your reproductive rights, your autonomy in marriage, your right to create a family, and your future, kill your appetite? If so, what food do you plan to throw at your television?
Tonight, I’m rocking my baggy, trusty, multipocketed cargo pants—because every debate-watching session calls for maximum snack storage. Paired with a long-sleeve tee for comfort, I’m ready for anything. Watching? Probably slouched on the couch, armed with takeout from China A-GoGo, because nothing says “I’m prepared to yell at the TV” like a pile of fried rice.
Eating? Oh, I’ll be starting with my go-to snack, but the minute they start discussing my reproductive rights like it’s their personal chess game, that sweet and sour chicken might just become an aerial missile aimed at the screen. Egg rolls are on standby too. Phil Dunphy would suggest magic to make them disappear, but sometimes, throwing food is its own kind of magic.
Bonus Question: Who wins? Vance or Walz?
Easy—Walz. Why? Because anyone who can rule a high school lunchroom with charisma and charm can tackle a debate like it’s a walk in the park. He’s witty, clever, and let’s face it, a debate is child’s play compared to managing teenagers. Sorry, Vance, but Walz’s got the magic on his side!
Well, heck. I'm on husband number four. We’ve been together 38 years. I finally got it right.
Back in the early years, my bar was set pretty dang low. I never went for the handsome type or testosterone muscle heads. I usually looked for unemployed men with a drinking problem.
I won't watch the debate. I decided my health was at risk with this election. I spent every day glued to my iPod reading hair-raising stories about the man who shall remain Nameless. I watched the video after the video of him vomiting word salad to a bunch of white racist.
A few weeks ago, I said, "Enough,
I don't need further confirmation that he is mentally unstable. I got it. The fact that his party and the news outlets continue to sanitize his outrageous nonsence is more than I can endure. I can't have a heart attack over this craziness.
That wonderful man I married 38 years had a stroke last January. I am his caretaker. I have a responsibility to him, if not to myself to avoid stress.
I can't change the insanity we are steeped in. I can only protect myself.
But, right now, I think Tim Walz or some one like him is a fine candidate for number 5.
E Jean, my ideal man would appreciate and value introverted, single, women, while insisting that abortion is available for women.
Wise, sly Caroline!!
Same situation here in Canada
What an excellent post! A superb conversation starter!
I am in London with my (handsome, sexy, funny, thoughtful, discretely masculine - oops! sorry! bragging!) husband… so I am kind of doubting we will be able to keep our old a$$es awake until the fun begins. We’ll watch on replay.
As for our attire? He’s in a lovely Pendleton wool robe in black watch plaid, and I am in a ratty black bra. We stylin’! 🤣
The amazing and most excellent Tim Walz will win. Hands down. I have no fear.
Thank you, Kira!! A man in a Pendleton robe is a KING to old E. Jean
I love your response!!! From your lips to G-d’s ears!!!
That is funny that your husband likes to brag.
Haw! Boy was that some weird grammar. Nice pick-up! :-)
My ideal man comes from the same moral and ethical background as I do. We may not agree on small stuff but the basics are always aligned. I am partial to big, huggable teddy bear men with brains and sharp wit and humor, but looks are less important than character and kindness and humor. A love of books and cats is a must. For the debate, I will need a stiff G&T (or two) and maybe some popcorn to throw at Vance’s big stupid face. I will wear cute sweats so I will be comfortable when I bounce off the sofa in indignation or pace about, gesturing wildly, or applaud Coach Walz.
Those "cute sweats" of yours, Wondering Woman! We should wear them when we form the Conflabbian Debate-Watching Olympic Team!
Not a teddy bear, but I hit the marks for brains, sharp wit and humor, love of books and cats (eight here). I can demonstrate kind from having been caregiver for my partner through her departure from Parkinson's. :-)
You sure do, Tom!
Thank you, your majesty. :-)
I know for a fact that 99.9% of your tribe of female Substack subscribers have crushes on you.
They're a constantly-surprising bunch.
Yes. We are amazing, have excellent taste, and have no time for fools. 😀
That's certainly true.
My husband and I both have a crush on E.Jean. How could we NOT????
You should get a prize from the Cat Society of America, or at least from the Southern California branch, as well as a caregiver prize. The latter must have been very painful. And I think of you whenever cats come up. They just seem to home on you, as if its common knowledge among LA cats that you'll take 'em in to a good life if they haven't found one already.
And I will!
A prince among men and cats!
You're not the only one partial to bigger guys
My ideal man is an absence of men.
Tim Walz at least knows how to take a back seat and learn from people instead of foisting his worldview on folks.
I have to work late tonight but I'll be watching anyway - and hoping my blood pressure doesn't spike unreasonably.
Laura, I knew I could count on you to represent the Charming Contrarians!
E. Jean, as you so astutely put it, What Do We Need Men For?
Walz wins and if he doesn't he still gets 100% of my support. Neither Walz or Vance ring my chimes. I don't watch debates because I don't want to be influenced by who's the most glib and charming liar. I'm more of a policy wonk. Harris/Walz all the way on policy and moral character.
I met my ideal man over 50 years ago. It was a chemical attraction. I can't explain it because he was a college professor who looked like he fell off the back of a motorcycle. Which he did. He had broken bones when we met.
So there he was, this manly man, rough-looking, a professor, hard on the outside, soft on the inside. I was hooked, long before I knew if we were in tune politically, philosophically or spiritually. We are still amazed that our views are so much alike because we were both chemically intoxicated from the start. His worst habit is leaving the soy milk out on the counter after making his morning coffee. He doesn't drink, smoke, do drugs or gamble. He enjoys looking at wild women but he doesn't chase them. Maybe our chemicals were smarter than we knew.
My chemicals are repulsed by Trump and Vance. I mean, completely repulsed. I will never understand people who think they just fine.
I gotta say Gayle, your chap sound pretty fabulous! Even by Castiglione standards!!
He tells me he'd like to be thought of as a Renaissance Man, but never a courtier. Never a man of courtesy, always a rascal. His self-image is more along the lines of a Renaissance poet and wag. Just not a varlet, villain or a sleveen.
Sleveen was a new one on me. He pulls out these words and smiles at me like a devil. I looked it up. Trump and Vance are both terrible sleveens. Just terrible.
I had to look it up:
"Sleeveen" is an Irish word that describes a person who is untrustworthy, cunning, or sly. It's often used in business or politics to describe someone who uses smooth talk or underhanded means to get their own way. For example, you might describe a businessman who takes advantage of a deal as a "sleeveen".
The word comes from the Irish word slíbhín, which means "trickster" or "silver-tongued person". It's used in both Ireland and Newfoundland.
There are human pheromones. People who flip over each other tend to love each others' scent--generally at first whiff. I think the other thing that causes major attraction is the type of thing that attracts best friends to each other--a meeting of the minds. My father flipped over my mother the moment she walked into the boring statistics class on my father's first day of graduate school, February 8, 1946. But it took him a couple of weeks to get her to notice him. They went out on a couple of dates before the fourth weekend, during which both exited Cambridge. At the weekend's end, he was sitting in his dorm room on the third floor of his building, working on something, when there was a sound on the window, which he ignored. A few minutes later, it happened again, and he ignored it. The third time he heard it, he went to the window. There was my mother standing in the quad, looking up at his window. She'd been throwing stones at his window, and I can't tell you how out of character for her that seems!
Summer came, and they moved in together. They were married December 14, 1946, five days after my mother's divorce papers had arrived in the mail from Colorado.
A story about the pheromonal thing. In the '90s I had this neighbor, Ann, happily married with a couple of young daughters. Every now and then, Ann would say something to the effect that had she not met Eddie, she might have married me. I didn't get it, because I really didn't think Ann and I would have made a good couple, and I never had a crush on her. And she'd done well--Eddie was a really nice guy, who I'm sure always treated her well.
But one day, the family came home from somewhere, and the older daughter, who might have been 6, or 7, started asking me a bunch of interesting questions, which I enjoyed answering. I got the feeling that she was a very intelligent kid, and I took an interest in her after that. I can remember her showing me a school project she'd done, and more questions. When I left, she threw her arms around me, and said, "you smell just like my daddy!"
I believe in the power of pheromones. But I saw him from 200 feet away and thought, Him!"
I'm not sure that's any different from my father flipping over my mother the moment she walked into the boring stats class on his first day of graduate school. She wouldn't have been 200 feet away from him, but the way he always told the story, it didn't sound like pheromones would have reached him before he reacted to her. And I've certainly flipped over women (or girls, as early as 7th grade) before they were close enough for me to smell them.
My ideal man is one who does not bother me, one who does not feel free to comment on my appearance or clothing. My ideal man is silent and does not inflict his pernicious opinions on me. They seem to be in short supply in my neck of the woods.
We have our own political mess here in Canada with Justin, Jagmeet and Pierre. So, I am going to stay in my lane with my fine neighbours to the South.
I am in (secretly) love with your ideal man, Nancy.
I am shrieking with laughter! You are the best, E.Jean!💕
Nancy Greene, you have well described my Steve of many years but now no longer as he died a few years ago… but your description… well… I still cry occasionally missing him… but I now love another… he knows as he lost his wife… and here I sit on the edge of my bed with him. Life is not easy. There is love we never expected.
My condolences on Steve.
E. Jean IS the best!!!
As an older woman pretending to be trying to date (these apps are useless!), I think a lot about what I'm really looking for. Not being a liberal is an automatic deal-breaker. I wear my politics on my sleeve. I am definitely a sapiosexual. I want to connect intellectually before anything else! My physical attraction will grow based on our emotional and intellectual alignment. Of course, I want to have some level of physical attraction to begin with, going in both directions. I want my partner to be as independent as I am, not needing to spend time together but looking forward to times when we do. I will be watching the debate, popcorn and cabernet are on the menu. The weirdo has no shot.
Tracy, you have given a lot of thought to this philosophical question. Plato himself, if he were on the apps, would agree with you.
the number of years I spent on the apps, and the poor results I mostly got... I did not quite a year or so on one or two apps after the pandemic. (Most of the years were before the pandemic.) I think a major ingredient to a good relationship is coming together like best friends do at the beginning of a friendship--a meeting of the minds. That happened with only one of the people I got from the apps post-pandemic. The problem there, alas, was that she had trouble walking due to bad hips, and walking and hiking are huge parts of my life.
In, say, the 4-5 years before the pandemic, I was on the apps for at least half, maybe 2/3 of that time. They were either two far away (more than an hour by car) or we just didn't click. Some of these stupid apps have these complicated algorithms which they take much too seriously. Eharmony is number one with that problem. Theirs just don't effing work most of the time. And if you search on "dating apps suck" you'll come up with loads of sites discussing that problem.
What fun questions!
1. Character? Authentic, mature, and emotionally self-aware.
Particular qualities? A good sense of humor, basic decency. Curiosity.
Flaws? My particular man is So. Freakin'. Contrary.
Looks? Not important to me. If I love him, he's gorgeous.
Philosophy? Kindness is best.
Work? Doesn't matter, though mine is a writer and a teacher.
Play? Almost anything is play when we're together.
2. Tim Walz is close. JD Vance is not even in the same universe.
3. I will be wearing pajamas in my bedroom, probably drinking bubble water, eating popcorn because I don't want to throw anything at my TV that would hurt it.
As for the bonus question ... Gov. Walz wins at being a human person and not a lying sack of pretentious, opportunistic, misogynistic, hypocrital, billionaire's butt monkey. So there's that.
HAR!!!!!!!
Brynnetania!!! How I love this whole tiny essay!!!
(Had to laugh about what foods would be thrown at the television.)
I don't think I can bear to watch J. D. Vance, so it's unlikely I'll be watching--but instead will lurk on Twitter and read commentary about the debate.
Adore Tim Walz (I've seen comments from women I appreciate and follow on Twitter, like, "I'd die for that man!")--he is definitely my ideal man type--love the kindness, the steadfastness, the ability to look out for others and for the common good--showing, so importantly, that strength doesn't have to mean cruelty and punching down and zero-sum. (In fact, it DOESN'T mean that.)
It sure would be nice for a generation of boys to get to have a leader like him as a role model.
(Finishing a work project, but looking forward to coming back and reading everyone's posts!)
Good luck on your project, Kstrattr!!
And good point about Tim Walz being a role model for America's young boys and men!
Thank you so much, E. Jean!
Some lucky boys got him as a role model, if memory serves, in both Nebraska and Minnesota!
Right!
Omg this is hilarious E. Jean.
I’ve had my share of closeted lingerie and eyeliner wearing alpha males. True story.
It’s always the ones you least expect to steal your heart. My ideal was beach volleyball playing salsa dancing geeky intellectual. But I fell head over heels for a scuba diving golf playing smart ass 😹
I’m looking forward to watching tonight with some bubbly and popcorn. It should be a thorough thrashing by the good guys.
LORRAINE.....of course, of course, of course! You can like a geek, but you gotta LOVE a smartass!!!
You get me, E. Jean🥰
There are no ideal men or women.
Some people come very very very close, though: I.E. Jimmy Carter.
Jimmy and Ros were married 77 years! I'm envious. But I'm happy for them.
I think u are right
And Oy to that cartoon!!!!!
If an 'ideal man' would be created in a lab, he'd have the handsome sexiness of Paul Newman, the intelligence of Barak Obama, the humorous, biting wit of George Carlin and the voice of Sinatra. But the real and not so perfect man I've lived with for 26 years is quite intelligent, has a playful sense of humor, great patience and shows true love and respect for me. He supports women's rights and along with me, says he hopes to see Madame President Harris be inaugurated in January 2025.
Your own personal chap sounds even better than the Newman/Obama/Sinatra/Carlin lab project!
Sounds like you got a wonderful man!
My ideal man lives in my head and dares to surface because he’s just too good to be true…I choose Walz. And I will be in the raw with a large bowl of popcorn.
Har!!!!
THE NAKED POPCORN EATER!!!
Rather, exists in my head…
My man’s pretty ideal. Does all the things I am not good at doing and lets me do the things I am good at. He’s kind and has no problem helping others. It’s going to be a weird debate. Walz soothes me with his kindness and humor and Vance triggers me with his misogyny and rudeness. Going to watch with my finger on the mute just in case.
YOU're right, Sally. Walz IS soothing!
1.
My ideal man is a perfect blend of Phil Dunphy's goofy optimism and Tim Walz's down-to-earth leadership. His character? The ultimate "cool dad" who tries to be everyone’s best friend and fails spectacularly in the most lovable way possible. Particular qualities? Humor, heart, and a flair for magic tricks, because nothing says, "I care" like pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Flaws? He’s a little too optimistic, bordering on delusional—like thinking his puns are always welcome (they’re not). What does he look like? Think: dad-next-door vibes, comfortable in slightly wrinkled khakis, a button-up shirt that's always half untucked, and a permanent grin.
Philosophy? “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade, but also, don't forget to make a backup plan because lemonade is overrated.” Work? He’s in real estate, obviously, but he also moonlights as a motivational speaker, using phrases like "Stay cool under pressure, like a Popsicle in the freezer." Play? He’s the guy trying to convince you that karaoke night is good for the soul and organizes family game night with PowerPoint presentations.
2.
JD Vance? Let’s just say he doesn’t pull off the "cool dad" vibe—he’s more of that stern teacher you try to avoid eye contact with. Tim Walz, on the other hand, is practically *Phil Dunphy in Office*—a good-natured guy with cleverness tucked under his sleeves, ready to navigate the high school lunchroom *and* a government debate with the same witty swagger. He’s got the right mix of competence and self-deprecation, which makes him close to my ideal. Vance may write
propaganda books, but can he make kids believe he’s a magician? I think not.
3.
Tonight, I’m rocking my trusty multipocketed cargo pants—because every debate-watching session calls for maximum snack storage. Paired with a long-sleeve tee for comfort, I’m ready for anything. Watching? Probably slouched on the couch, armed with takeout from China A-Go-Go, because nothing says “I’m prepared to yell at the TV” like a pile of fried rice.
Eating? Oh, I’ll be starting with my go-to snack, but the minute they start discussing my reproductive rights like it’s their personal chess game, that sweet and sour chicken might just become an aerial missile aimed at the screen. Egg rolls are on standby too. Phil Dunphy would suggest magic to make them disappear, but sometimes, throwing food is its own kind of magic.
4.
Bonus Question: Who wins? Vance or Walz?
Easy—Walz. Why? Because anyone who can rule a high school lunchroom with charisma and charm can tackle a debate like it's a walk in the park. He’s witty, clever, and let’s face it, a debate is child’s play compared to managing teenagers. Sorry, Vance, but Walz’s got the magic on his side!
In actuality? No wins and everybody loses. What are you wearing tonight to watch the debate? Where are you watching? Will you be eating anything or do two men discussing your reproductive rights, your autonomy in marriage, your right to create a family, and your future, kill your appetite? If so, what food do you plan to throw at your television?
Tonight, I’m rocking my baggy, trusty, multipocketed cargo pants—because every debate-watching session calls for maximum snack storage. Paired with a long-sleeve tee for comfort, I’m ready for anything. Watching? Probably slouched on the couch, armed with takeout from China A-GoGo, because nothing says “I’m prepared to yell at the TV” like a pile of fried rice.
Eating? Oh, I’ll be starting with my go-to snack, but the minute they start discussing my reproductive rights like it’s their personal chess game, that sweet and sour chicken might just become an aerial missile aimed at the screen. Egg rolls are on standby too. Phil Dunphy would suggest magic to make them disappear, but sometimes, throwing food is its own kind of magic.
Bonus Question: Who wins? Vance or Walz?
Easy—Walz. Why? Because anyone who can rule a high school lunchroom with charisma and charm can tackle a debate like it’s a walk in the park. He’s witty, clever, and let’s face it, a debate is child’s play compared to managing teenagers. Sorry, Vance, but Walz’s got the magic on his side!
Realistically? Nobody wins and everyone loses.
One of the great lines!
" . . . . armed with takeout from China A-Go-Go, because nothing says “I’m prepared to yell at the TV” like a pile of fried rice."
Well, actually, Gloria, the whole thing is great!
Thanks. 😊 You ask the best questions.
Well, heck. I'm on husband number four. We’ve been together 38 years. I finally got it right.
Back in the early years, my bar was set pretty dang low. I never went for the handsome type or testosterone muscle heads. I usually looked for unemployed men with a drinking problem.
I won't watch the debate. I decided my health was at risk with this election. I spent every day glued to my iPod reading hair-raising stories about the man who shall remain Nameless. I watched the video after the video of him vomiting word salad to a bunch of white racist.
A few weeks ago, I said, "Enough,
I don't need further confirmation that he is mentally unstable. I got it. The fact that his party and the news outlets continue to sanitize his outrageous nonsence is more than I can endure. I can't have a heart attack over this craziness.
That wonderful man I married 38 years had a stroke last January. I am his caretaker. I have a responsibility to him, if not to myself to avoid stress.
I can't change the insanity we are steeped in. I can only protect myself.
But, right now, I think Tim Walz or some one like him is a fine candidate for number 5.
Salute!
And may the gods speed the recovery of your dear husband, Zee Zee!!
I understand. Protect your health so you can care for that wonderful man you married.
And I love your sense of humor! My best to both of you.💙