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And They Said It Wouldn’t Last

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Janet and I are just about at our one year anniversary. No, not our wedding anniversary which happens in September, but the one year anniversary of Janet arriving here in Portland and the United States. It’s been a great adventure and we’ve learned a lot, not only about each other but about our respective countries. Here’s a few things we’ve learned:

There are poor, homeless people in the U.S. Yes, it’s true. Coming from the Philippines, where Filipinas are taught that all Americans are rich, it shocked Janet that there are homeless, hungry, and very poor people living here. How can a country as rich as ours have people living on the streets? Frankly, it baffles me too and I can’t explain it to her. It’s outside my scope of experience.

OK, there was the time when I was young and homeless in Santa Cruz, CA, but I was crashing on the beach so that sort of doesn’t count. At least I had the ocean to bathe in.

Why does a hard working girl like Janet earn less than 1/10th of what her lazy-assed husband makes? With no real knowledge of Keynesian economics I can’t explain the relationship between work and compensation. Maybe if I were Milton Friedman…but then I’d be dead. So instead of trying to explain it, we’ve just decided to spend it.

Labor is just a tad bit more expensive here. In our backyard we have the largest oak tree in our neighborhood. It needed extensive trimming and I’d procrastinated the past couple years. Finally I bit the bullet and had the guy I’ve used before come and bid the job, including chipping and hauling away a massive amount of wood. He bid it at $800 which I thought was a bargain. Janet was appalled! This week three laborers wailed away at the tree for an entire day. She simply could not understand why her crazy husband would spend $800 on such an effort, particularly when for the same money we could have bought 80 dresses at H&M.  In the Philippines we would have paid 3 laborers 300 pesos each ($7) to do the work. Of course we’d have to provide them with lunch too. At least I didn’t have to spring for that here.

The cold causes massive cramps. After a few months here I noticed that Janet constantly had muscle cramps. OK, it was fun massaging her but it baffled me. I Goggled it and figured it was some kind of potassium deficiency or something. Finally, we figured it out. Once the fall hit and the temperature went below 60, Janet, unused to anything involving the word cold, would tense up her muscles, like a body builder posing, and by the end of the day she’d cramp up. I would remind her that as the old geezer of the couple, I should be the one requiring daily massages, but that didn’t fly.

What does a real estate agent in the Philippines do? I contacted a real estate agent in Cebu before our April trip. Told him we were just beginning the process of looking, just wanted to see how things worked in the Philippines and were not ready to buy. We set a day to meet and see a few properties in Janet’s home town. The guy shows up with the owner of the properties. The owner, a middle aged Filipina, was what in my culture used to be referred to as a “character.” Of course in the U.S. it’s totally verboten to bring the property owner, but in the Philippines she ran the show and the agent just sat back, said and did nothing. She showed us several properties that were quite nice and in the end asked up which one we wanted to buy. Obviously the agent hadn’t communicate our wishes to her in the least and we found out that…
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A firm price is a fluid concept in the Philippines. Of all the houses we saw, one stood out above the rest. 2800 sq. ft., European construction, large yard and pool, Janet really liked it. Truth be told so did I. Since I have gotten very good at converting pesos to dollars in my head I knew that the “firm” price of 6.5 million pesos was about $150,000. She informed us of several different ways that we could finance the house with no interest. I was a bit annoyed since I was not in buying mode which had clearly been communicate to the agent. Finally to quiet her I said, “If I ever get to the point of buying, I will pay cash.” “Only six million if cash,” she immediate announced.

After we were done we received constant texts from the woman: which house did we like the best, did we want to meet again to discuss, when were we leaving, etc. Finally it was the morning we were leaving Alcoy, heading for Cebu City and our flight home. We were standing on the side of the national highway, waiting for the bus and another text came in. I rolled my eyes. “Just tell her five million,” Janet said. “See what she says. It’ll be fun.” I texted the lady that sorry we were leaving and that Janet runs our finances and reminded me that our budget was no more than five million ($116,000). I figured that would keep her quiet till we got on the plane or she’d counter offer and I’d ignore her. Nope. Within five minutes the text came in; she’d take the five million. Course I still wasn’t buying but it was an interesting experience.

It became even more interesting a few days later when I exchanged correspondence with an online UK friend living in Alcoy, who had coincidentally rented the very same house we saw two years before. He said that she had tried to sell the property to him and his partner, but that maybe she didn’t completely own the land that the house stood on. Something to be careful of if we ever buy property in the Philippines.

Be careful about what you blog about.  Janet has been incredibly supportive of this effort and hasn’t objected to anything I’ve written, which is pretty amazing if you go back and read all my blogs. On the other hand just today I got on the elevator at work and there was my manager’s manager’s manager. A nice guy he immediate mentioned he read a few of my postings. I quickly searched my memory to see if I’d said anything disparaging about my job or employer. Hopefully he realizes that any comment I made about being ridiculously overpaid was a joke 🙂

 

 

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Don’t Treat Your Wife Like Wayne Gretzky

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Is it Yours, Mine or Ours?

I’ve noticed that since Janet arrived here about eleven months ago we have had many discussions that somehow end up in one place – ownership.

As I mentioned in a previous blog, I just leased a new car. Since I always lease every three years instead of buy, at my advanced age I have been through the process many times. In fact I made a big deal to Janet about how this was going to be my last lease, since by the time the lease is up, I will in all likelihood be retired. Actually in all likelihood, I will be soaking up the sun and drinking San Mig Lights on the beach, but that’s another story.

I went through the whole car process, which as anyone who has dealt with new car dealerships knows can be a weird combination of exciting, exasperating, nonsensical – and of course – expensive. Naturally the car is in my name: I’m the one with 30+ years of credit, a salaried job, and a driver’s license. A week or so after I got it we were driving somewhere and she made it clear that, “it’s your car, not mine.”

I purchased the home we live in seven years before Janet ever arrived, I pay the mortgage – so it’s mine, I suppose. She likes the house, takes good care of it, maintains it more than I do. But in the end, it’s in my name, so she says, “it’s your home.”

The same can be said of the stuff, both necessary and frivolous, that is inside the home. I bought it all; in a few cases before Janet was born; so it’s mine.

There’s even the iPad that Janet now uses almost exclusively, but she knows that, “it’s still your iPad.”

The kids are mine of course, unless or until we have one together. It’s my city, my country and my life that she has entered.

Now, I have tried to do my best to use words like, “our home,” or “our dog,” or at least “the dog” – more likely “the damn dog.” I try to purge the words “my” or “mine” out of my vocabulary; but I am sure I slip up. I want Janet to view this as “our” life, but I am sure that sometimes it’s tough for her to do.

Hence, it is important to use viagra cost in canada your steroidal drug as and when recommended. Quite a large number of males have noticed big change into brand viagra uk their health and relationship as well. One of saddest things about sales cialis people in abusive relationships is the way they use their counseling losses and therapy misses to lock themselves in their despair, until the lid pops and they end up in a domestic abuse divorce. Well, order levitra the ease and reliable service are usually the reasons why a large number of people are going online to shop for the things they need. Of course, this isn’t because Janet is from the Philippines. Some of it is about age and time on the planet; I’ve just had many more years to accumulate stuff than she has. It’s also about being a spoiled Westerner; most of us just have more cash to accumulate crap than our Filipina partners do.

Speaking of cash, that’s probably the biggest divider between mine, yours and ours. I have a somewhat high paying job, therefore in her mind, “it’s your money.” This part of the issue is starting to fade, as Janet gets a weekly paycheck, and therefore has her own money. Of course she also knows the disparity between what I earn and what she earns is large and she cannot understand it. Truth be told I think of the backbreaking, crappy, minimum wage labor jobs I had in my teens and twenties and wonder why they paid nothing and my current, cushier job pays much more. I suppose that’s a cultural and economics debate that I am unwilling to make. I’m just happy to take advantage of it.

I know that many Western couples, especially blended families, who get re-married in middle-age, sometimes go to extreme limits to make sure that everything is jointly “theirs.” They sell the house(s) and buy a new one together. Get rid of the cars and much of the accumulated crap of a lifetime, and perform a do-over. Maybe they have another kid or two, just to blend up the family a bit more. It’s not my job to judge anyone – but such people are completely mental. Buying or selling a house is one of the most stressful things in life and to do both just so one party can feel comfortable, seems to me to be extreme.

Now, I know that as the years go by, some (maybe most) of these issues between us will fade. At some point Janet and I may get a new home to live in, and she will truly think of it as “ours.” She will get a driver’s license and we will share a car! She will take her paycheck and purchase things that she will genuinely view as hers or ours; although since most of her current purchases are at either “Forever 21” or “H&M” I won’t be claiming joint ownership anytime soon.

I have no grand conclusions here. I suspect that for most couples where there is an age and income disparity or just a plain junk disparity, ownership debates are inevitable.

For some reason I am reminded of a story about Wayne Gretzky. The story may or may not be true but I heard it told by comedian, Denis Leary, years back. Now for those who don’t know anything about hockey, Gretzky was the greatest hockey player who ever lived; there’s not even credible debate about that. He holds every record worth having. He won the Stanley Cup 4 times and was league MVP a boatload of times.

Well the story goes that the comedian was invited to “The Great One’s” home. Gretzky is married to an actress; has been for many years. The comedian was given the nickel tour of the lavish and tasteful home. He could see nothing from Gretzky’s career housed there. Finally he was handed a beer and brought into the garage. Now to quote Denis, “I’ve been to Wayne Gretzky’s house. He’s got five MVP trophies, you know where they are? They’re in the fucking garage!” So there, in the garage, were the five MVP trophies and all the accumulated memorabilia of one of the greatest athletes to ever live!

Now the easiest thing (and accurate too) would be to say that some American women are just a tad controlling. I could rant about feminism too I suppose, though I’m not really anti-feminist. But in this case I will just say, when it comes to your Filipina wife:

Don’t treat your wife like Mrs. Gretzky treats Wayne.

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She Loves Me…She Loves Me Not…She Loves Me…She Loves Me Not

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A commenter (one of the 5 or 6 we have) recently told the story of an ex-girlfriend. Seems in a moment of pillow talk he asked her why she was with him, a middle-aged foreigner, rather than a young Pinoy. She responded with something like she “wanted to eat better than dried fish and rice every day.” He wasn’t moved by her response.

Now personally, as I’ve blogged before, Janet loves dried fish and rice and would probably eat it every day if she could get it – and if the rest of us could stand the smell.

But the reader took the response to mean that not only his girl, but all Filipinas, are with their Western partners for only one reason – more dried fish 🙂 No no, I suppose he really meant – for money.

Being on more forums with expats and travelers to the Philippines than I should be reading, I can say that this is a common, if odd, opinion. Guys move to the Philippines with their wives, or move there and find a wife or girlfriend, and often declare that most of the women there are only interested in a man’s cash. Of course they are quick to add that their wife doesn’t fall into that category. They were smart enough to find “one of the good ones.” More likely they are smart enough not to give their true opinion on a public forum that their wife or her infinite number of friends and relatives might read.

So, why are they with us? Why are we with them? What is this thing called love? If you’ve read any of my other wiseassed blog pieces you know I won’t be answering the last question.

But it reminds me of the fact that Janet often asks why. It’s night, maybe we’re in bed, and we whisper loving words to each other. I tell her “I love you very much,” and she asks, “Why do you love me?”

I have no good answers. I mean, saying “you’re cute/hot/a good lover,” not only isn’t an accurate answer to the love question, it could be considered insulting. “What, you only love my body!!! What happens when I get older and put on 5 pounds?”

“You’ll still be hot to me, baby.” You can imagine that this conversation (and any subsequent nighttime activities) will not end well.

Usually when Janet asks the “why” question, I hem and haw, come up with something, but it’s pretty inadequate. I’m a writer but not a poet. I know that I love Janet, but am not completely sure what that means, nor if an adequate “why” even exists.

So why do people love each other? And does the answer have anything to do with marriage – or money? After all I was in love when I was 13 – and 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, and 19 – all with different girls. And thank God I didn’t marry any of them.

I think our parents and grandparents and their predecessors, in previous eras in which most marriages actually lasted successfully, if not always happily, innately understood that you needed two people to make life work. Somebody had to make money, somebody had to care for the children, somebody had to cook, somebody took care of the house, somebody had to make sure you could afford the house and keep it from falling apart, somebody had to hitch the team of horses to the wagon or later on look under the hood of the car with a knowing “ah ha.” There was no way out of the realization  that it took two adults. I suspect that in those days also, connection was more important. Today people live alone more often than ever in the U.S. and seem OK with it; in the Philippines and much of the world, living alone is almost inconceivable, emotionally and financially .
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Now, I’m not an anti-feminist, so unlike some men, I’m not going to blame it all on feminism. But I will say that at some point people figured out that with modern conveniences, one adult could do it all, albeit badly: work, hire child care, throw packaged food in the microwave, throw the dishes in a dishwasher, hitch up the team of horses (aka drive the car), etc. You could do it alone, especially if you only had the standard 2.01 children per household that the CIA says we have in the U.S. Why the CIA keeps such stats, I am not sure; tracking the number of enemies I suppose. They also say that the average in the Philippines is 3.06  and 6.08 in Somalia. My guess is that there are not a lot of divorces in Somalia!

So way back when, people chose spouses with whom they not only had an emotional connection, but who they hoped would make a good working partner. Expressions such as, “he has a good future,” were common and meant the guy could take care of the family and ultimately they’d be driving to soccer games in a Cadillac Escalade.

The guy might equally say, “she’ll make a good mother,” meaning she had a big pair of tutoys to feed the brood. By the way, I love the word tutoys and tease Janet that she has “two toys.” OK, I’m a bit immature for 61.

But as I say, somewhere along the line, as a society we went from believing that marriage is partly about  love and partly pragmatic, to the current notion that it should be totally emotional. Smarter anthropology types have talked about romantic love being a modern, Western concept. Is it any wonder that most modern marriages fail; the emotions fade, or at least change, and what else is there? OK, there’s still the Cadillac and the tutoys but you get my meaning.

But it strikes me that in many Fil-Am marriages I know, the connection grows over time as the two realize that the spouse they chose is a true and reliable partner. I know it’s very old fashioned but Janet believes that part of her marital responsibility is to take care of me and I believe the same about caring for her. As time goes by and I see that this core belief is true, our bond grows stronger. I know that she will in fact care for me, and hope she knows the same about me toward her.

So let’s get back to the money thing, shall we. If an old fashioned girl believes that marriage is based on partnership, won’t she judge the guy first and foremost on how well he takes care of her?

And I can’t leave this subject without remarking about the food thing. Most Western guys as they get to know Filipinas, either online or in the field, remark at how strange it is that Filipinas seemed obsessed with food. Chats with Janet always began with “how was your lunch” or “what did you have for dinner.” In the U.S. where we take steady eating for granted it’s hard to relate to the notion, but eating is pretty damn important. And eating in the Philippines is an entirely social occasion. Before Janet arrived here I don’t think she ever ate a major meal alone in her life and to this day struggles when she has to eat alone. Me? I ate alone often and never thought twice about it.

In essence, food and what you had for your lunch/dinner is a pretty damn important thing to know. So in the Philippines asking what you ate is equivalent to saying, “hello, how are you?”

Is this so odd? In the U.S. two guys get together and one greets the other with, “how’s it hanging?” Frankly, I’d rather know what he had for lunch.

So guys, it’s not always about cash. Get your girl as much dried fish as she can handle. She’ll feel loved beyond conception – and well, you’re likely to get some tutoys that night.

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Is Your Filipina Wife Costing/Saving You Money?

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The most negative stereotype about marrying a Filipina revolves around money; how much she might want, how much to help her family, and how many pairs of shoes to buy to stay happily married.

Janet’s lived here about 11 months and we’ve been married 10, which no doubt makes me an expert. 🙂 I certainly haven’t kept track of it, and she’d kill me if I did, but my guess is that Janet has actually saved us money. On our weekly grocery shopping runs, she’s even better at pinching pennies than I am, and I’m pretty damn good. And once she found out the dishwasher takes about two hours to run (with the associated electricity costs) she started hand washing the dishes most of the time “to save electricity.” No sense in my saying that as a Software Engineer, we can afford the electricity; she still hand washes.

Yes, like most women, she loves the malls, but her purchases tend to get made at H&M or Forever 21, bastions of inexpensive clothing for young women. When she sees a $25 shirt she inevitably exclaims, “OMG that’s so expensive,” and passes it by.

But recently she upped the saving money ante and decided to take on Ford Motor Company. To my shock, as a 61 year old who has never purchased a new American car (only imports), I was preparing to buy a Ford plug in hybrid (determined to spend more on electricity to make up for what we save on the dishwasher). The dealership had kindly given me a car to test for two days. I hemmed and hawed, each time getting  my payments a bit lower, until I was sold. They found the exact car I wanted in the color Janet wanted. She had no interest in the car; it could have been a ’91 Yugo, as long as it was ruby red!

Now Ford has been having a teeny tiny problem with the EPA lately. Seems their methodology of how they rate their hybrid cars’ MPG had come into question. I had been reading about this while negotiating on the car, but didn’t care. My previous car was getting 18-19 MPG using premium, so any way I looked at it, I was going to save money. Nonetheless, Ford lost with the EPA and had to revise their estimates downward. The day I was to take delivery on the car, Ford announced on their website that current owners of their hybrids would be getting a check to compensate them. I certainly didn’t expect to be included but called Ford just in case. They confirmed that the cutoff date was two weeks earlier and while they apologized profusely, I would not be getting a check.

Over dinner that night, just before I was scheduled to pick up the car, I told Janet the story. “They should give you the money,” she said. I agreed but said I understood that there had to be a cutoff date and I hadn’t even gotten the car yet. “The salesman should get you the money,” she insisted. I maturely reminded her that salesmen in the U.S. don’t have much influence on gigantic corporations. “Then cancel the car,” she said.

“What?” I laughed, assuming she was joking.

“Tell them to give you the money or cancel the car.”

Now being the thickheaded husband I am, it took Janet several repetitions of this mantra until I realized she was totally serious and not joking. By that point I wanted the car and didn’t want to cancel the deal, but I realized my wife was drawing a line in the sand and I had to respond.

“But surely you can understand that the salesman can’t…”

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“Ok, I will talk to the dealership and ask them what they can do.”

“Just tell them you’re not buying the car if they don’t do something.”

I arrived at the dealership and my smiling salesman greeted me, confident that I’d been reeled in. I took him aside and confided that I had a “marital problem.” I told him the story and he said he could check with Ford the next day. I told him not to bother; that I had already given Ford my VIN # and my car didn’t count against the rebate.

“I can’t go home with the car, unless you do something for me. So that I can tell my wife.” The wife who’s less than half my age and no more than half my weight.

Of course the salesman gave me the typical – “we’re making very little on the deal” bullshit.

Finally he said, “I can give you a set of all-weather mats. I’m sure I can swing that but it’ll take me about a week.” The mats are about $100 and in my wet part of the country I usually buy a set of these anyway. So, I agreed and we both breathed a sigh of relief.

I brought the car home triumphantly. Janet immediately wanted to know, “What did they do for you?” I told her about the mats. “How much do they cost?” she asked.

“Not sure. I think quite a lot. It’s a good deal and they did it only because of you.”

The next week I went to pick up the mats. Janet, who had not gone with me previously for the long process of car shopping and dealing, came with me to get her mats and meet the salesman. So, now I had the new red car, the hot, fierce negotiating wife, and rubber all-weather mats. All was right with the world.

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How to be a “Sweet’N Low Daddy”

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How much money should you give your Filipina girlfriend? How much have your got?

I am going to take a few moments to discuss giving money, gifts or prizes to your girlfriend(s) in the Philippines. I am not going to discuss how much to give your wife. What do you think I am – nuts? I am a happily married newlywed and want to stay that way. Besides, Janet is working now and raking in the green; soon I’m gonna hit her up for a loan!

But honestly, you’ve met a cute Filipina and you’ve been chatting daily online for a while. Have you met her yet in the flesh? My rule of thumb was, if you havent’t met her yet, you’re not really in a relationship and why are you giving her money. OTOH, below I will detail a couple instances where I broke that rule.

Now, when I was chatting online I was a very very busy boy. I am sure I chatted and cammed with over 100 women. So for me the problem was not how to find girls but how to eliminate the also-rans, and who should I ultimately choose. If a girl I was chatting with was asking for money or even hinting at it, that made the decision easy. I said no and ended contact with her; ended it sadly a few times. This strikes me as Online Dating 101 behavior. A good girl in the Philippines is not going to ask you for money. Of course a bad girl might not ask you for money either – they know what you’re looking out for also. And frankly while there were many obviously ridiculous reasons to ask for cash (“I need a new webcam to do a show for you”) there were also a few girls who I thought might have been sincere in their needs. Nonetheless my rule was pretty inflexible; yours should be too.

NOTE: When the girl generously proposes performing via cam for you, if only you will provide her with the $75 dollars needed to buy a cam, point out the fact that nowadays you can get a cam for $20. Believe me, she won’t blink. “You cannot get one for that price in the Philippines, Sir.”

When the girl generously proposes performing via cam for you, if only you will provide her with the $75 dollars needed to buy a cam, point out the fact that nowadays you can get a cam for $20.

But seriously, everyone’s different and only you know what you can and cannot reasonably afford. OTOH, just because you can afford it, does that mean you should give it?

For example, do you really need to spend $300/night on that 5- star hotel in Manila? For what – just to impress her with a quality towel to steal? In most cases she will be clueless why the hotel is $300 (as am I) and will think you’re an idiot for spending 12,000 pesos for what is essentially a rented bed that the night before someone screwed a bargirl on.

I can send you to a very nice hotel in Manila for $100/night, she will be suitably impressed, and you can send me the difference.

My rule of thumb in traveling with a companion is to travel the way I normally would. I book the style of hotel I normally book on whatever budget reflects my normal traveling comfort. I eat at the types of restaurants I might normally eat at. So, I don’t spend more to impress someone but I don’t deliberately go cheap just to see what the girl’s reaction will be. Some guys do this and I don’t get it. Why should I be miserable on my own trip?

Besides, my strategy shows her what kind of life she will have with me. If you’re a 5-star guy, be a 5-star guy. If you’re a 2 1/2-star guy, welcome to the club. To beat this dead horse one more time, be the person you truly are with her!
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Here’s another point to remember and it’s just human nature – whether in the Philippines or anywhere else. It’s much easier to go up the spending ladder then down. Meaning it’s easier to spend more on your girlfriend than less. If you gave her a $5000 gift for Christmas last year (and if you did please immediately friend me on Facebook) then you’re gonna be hard pressed to give her a $50 gift this year – and live to tell the tale. On the other hand, if you gave her a $50 Christmas gift last year when you were dating, now that you are married you can easily justify bumping it up; a $55 gift means a 10% increase, which is better than a cost of living raise, isn’t it?

Let’s get back to the idea of never giving a girl money who you haven’t met. I think there might be an exception or two. For example, you’re going to meet soon and she needs air, bus or ferry fare to meet you. You should expect to pay. If she’s taking a 7-hour ferry ride (as Janet did) to meet you, don’t just spring for the cheapest ticket; she needs a bed to sleep on and a bag or two of chicharon. If she tells you not to worry, that she can pay, then start worrying; either she’s one of those rare middle class Filipinas I blogged about or one of those not so rare bar girls I won’t blog about.

The other option is to give a girl you’re interested in a small amount of money or a small gift to test her. If you give her a $20 gift and she reacts by calling you a cheap bastard and screams that you’re worse than the five Pinoy boyfriends she has – well, you have your answer. If she is thrilled, then you might have met a really good one. I sent Janet a dozen roses for Valentines Day. She was in heaven, told everyone, and posted pics on Facebook of her with the flowers in every conceivable angle and setting.

On the other hand, a year before, I was chatting with a girl I liked. Our chatting was inconsistent since she only could chat in the Internet Cafe and she was always too broke for the café. I told her I really wanted to chat with her more often to see if we were a good match. I proposed that I would be willing to send her $20 which she would use only for Internet Cafe fees. She agreed and promised she’d only use it for chatting. You can guess the conclusion of the story. A week went by before I heard from her again and at that point she admitted she’d spent the money on her needs. So for the small sum of $20, despite the fact that she had a body you could shake a stick at (if that’s your idea of a good time), I found out she was not the one for me.

The irony of all this is that many men have tired of the hoops they have to jump through to obtain Western women. So, they rationalize (and a good rationale IMO) that a non-Western woman with more modest needs and requirements might be better. Then what happens? Some guys immediately begin treating their Filipina woman like a Western woman and feel the need to shower her with cash and prizes. You should resist that urge.

But who am I to tell you what you can and can’t do with your own money. Maybe you’re Donald Trump and you can afford all the $10,000 hair pieces you want. For a person like that a $1000 gift to your girlfriend might be nothing. Again, if you are in this category, please friend me on Facebook; it’s Dave Weisbord – that’s W-E-I-S-B-O-R-D.

 

 

 

 

Blog, Story

The K-1 Visa & the 90-Day No Fault Marriage

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I get asked by my friends, relatives and perfect strangers about the process of a foreigner coming to America (what – didn’t they see the Eddie Murphy movie) and getting married. I can’t tell you how many people asked the following: “Why don’t you just fly Janet over here for a month or two so you can get to know each other better?” Shit, why didn’t I think of that!

There’s tons of information available on obtaining Visas and getting married in the land of milk and honey (OK, that’s Israel, but you get the idea) but none of that information will give you the real scoop on what happens, the hows, and the pain, joy and hysteria involved. So, I will!

As Americans we forget that one of our greatest freedoms is that little blue thing we’re issued (not Viagra – get your head out of the gutter – I mean a U.S. passport). You can go everywhere with it, other than Cuba. It’s essentially a “Get Out of Jail Free Card” (for some people literally). But most countries don’t have that sort of freedom and if you are from most of the countries on the planet, the United States is not thrilled to have you arrive here.

So, if you’re a Philippines citizen what do you do? Yes, there are educational visas and work visas but the process is lengthy, expensive and in the end rarely do you get permission. Or you can be a sibling of a naturalized American citizen, which means we’ll see you here somewhere around 2050, give or take a decade. Or say you are one of those middle class Filipinos I’ve previously discussed. Why not get a tourist visa; Americans can get one to almost any country in the world. Well, you’re not an American. In order to get a tourist Visa you have to prove beyond any doubt that you will visit the US – and leave. By the time you might get that tourist visa they’ll be filling in the Grand Canyon. In short, unless you are the rare Filipino politician or fat cat, there is no way for the average Filipino(a) citizen to get here.

But there is the fiancé or spousal visa process. No problem; fill out some paperwork, send in some money, and bang, boom in six months or so you’re here. Easy, right? Um, not exactly.

But there is the fiancé or spousal visa process. No problem; fill out some paperwork, send in some money, and bang, boom in six months or so you’re here. Easy, right? Um, not exactly.

First, there’s the paperwork process which is Draconian. Any mistake, even of the most minor nature, and the paperwork will get kicked back. Janet and I spent hours and days online scouring every line of the paperwork for any mistake. Now, I was a technical writer at the time, pretty damn good at preparing accurate documentation, but the stress of trying to get everything perfect got to me. And even if it’s perfect, the USCIS has the occasional habit of simply losing one of the dozens of documents you submitted – and then blaming you.

How about money? I’m a software engineer with a good income (far more than I’m worth); so I figured, no problem. Wrong. By the time you’re all done, it will put a serious strain on most budgets. Speaking of money, you have to prove to the USCIS that you, the petitioner, make 125% of the current U.S. poverty line. So make sure you don’t lose your job during the process or it might be a do-over. For that matter, many self-employed men who make very good money, don’t qualify because, how should I put this, their true income is not reflected on their tax returns. Their sweet, naïve fiancé, travels to Manila for the grueling embassy interview and finds out her fiancé does not make enough to qualify for the Visa. It happens every day.

Oh and speaking of Manila, once your initial paperwork is approved, you are able to schedule your embassy interview in Manila. And prior to that you must take a medical exam. Now that doesn’t mean you go to your local doctor and have him listen to your heart or cough a couple times. It means you go to St. Lukes Hospital in Manila (the only accepted facility in the entire country) for a two day (yes, you heard that right) two day exam. And if they find anything wrong with your young fiancé, let’s say a shadow on the lung, she gets to spend another glorious six months in beautiful downtown Manila for TB treatment and a re-testing. Janet had never had any serious or even semi-serious illness in her life, but was terrified by the medical exam, as well as the half dozen shots she needed. And let’s not forget that to even get said examination, you must arrive early at St. Lukes and take a number; Janet arrived at 2:30 AM. Is this all still sounding easy?

But wait there’s more: the Philippines requires the prospective émigré to take a class and get interviewed by the CFO. This interview is often tougher than the embassy interview. After all, the U.S. embassy mostly wants to ensure that everything is legal and on the up and up. The CFO tells the girls about all the terrible things that can happen abroad and the interviewer questions why the girl wants to go. In our case, after the CFO interview, Janet contacted me panicked because she hadn’t yet been approved. The CFO Officer had doubts and wanted to see Janet again. Why? Because Janet was young and pretty and marrying old codger, Dave. How to prove to the officer that our relationship was legitimate? Janet left her tons of photos of the two of us together, email and text correspondence and was simply told to come back and the officer would decide.

Sexual function problems occur regardless of age and social status. check description purchase generic cialis These are: Fermented dairy, such as kefir and yogurt Fruits, such as cherries, bananas and berries Vegetables, such as kale, chard, garlic, onions, leeks, chicory, asparagus and artichokes Whole grains, such as wheat, cialis 20mg generika barley and oatmeal (they must be whole grains) Eat plenty of foods that contain grapefruit by blocking the liver from properly removing them from the online pharmacies. It will be found by various names just like, Kamagra, Zenegra, buy generic levitra continue reading over here, and Kamagra oral jelly, Zenegra, Silagra, Zenegra, levitra, Caverta, and Forzest etc. This output has acquired its own worthy place in market and in the life of impotency affected. order cheap viagra has been built as a structure that bears the strength that can help man to sustain his capability and stamina up to a long period of 36hours. Still sound easy? Janet and I practiced her potential answers to whatever questions she might be asked. She was scared and when Janet gets scared she stops speaking or speaks in mono-syllables. There were a lot of “I don’t knows” and “you knows” in her practice answers. I tried to calmly explain that when the officer asked her why she wanted to marry Dave, answering “You know,” or “I don’t know,” might not be the best response.

In the end Janet got through the Visa process! I promised I would fly in and take her home with me. What I hadn’t considered was, would the actual physical Visa be ready by the time we were ready to fly out. Janet arranged for the Visa to be shipped to a To Go location, sort of like Fed-Ex in the Philippines. Unfortunately, they failed to contact her when the visa arrived and it sat for days. Finally they contacted her and told her that if she didn’t pick it up by the next day it would be sent back to Manila. So Janet and her sister hopped on a bus for the leisurely, fun-filled 3 hour bus ride from Alcoy to Cebu, got the Visa and returned by bus to Alcoy. Easy and stress free – right?

But now comes the truly easy part – we’ve finally arrived in the U.S. for 90 days of fun and sun. There’s even a reality show currently running, “90 Day Visa,” all about the thrilling escapades of these wacky couples. The show, like most reality TV, is entertaining bullshit.

Now I tend to be a planner; I’m older and allegedly mature. Before Janet arrived, I tried to project a budget for everything I could think of; the wedding; clothes she would need (no fleece jackets are needed in the Philippines); and just daily life changes.

Here’s what Janet (with my assistance) had to do in those 90 days: get used to a brand new city; check out the malls, public transportation (yes, of course, all Filipinos know how to use light rail); grocery shopping; finding the best local Asian stores; finding lechon; finding a Filipino restaurant; getting used to a new, and badly organized house; getting used to an old, and badly aging husband to be. Also, those 90 days gave me the opportunity to leisurely explain to Janet how everything works in the United States. And let’s not forget language. Despite the fact that Janet’s English is very good, speaking American English 24-hours a day is exhausting and her nose was bleeding constantly.

Which reminds me – I wanted to find her friends. So, before she arrived I hooked up with a Fil-Am group whose events we began to attend, which not only helped her make friends, it gave us a support system for the wedding.

Oh, that’s right – the wedding. That has to happen in those 90 days too. I had planned to have it in our backyard, which is a good sized space. Before Janet arrived I spent weeks cleaning out the yard and trying to get things semi-ready. It was a losing proposition. Finally, one day my neighbor (who has the showplace yard of the neighborhood) leaned over our fence and asked me how the wedding preparations were going – and most importantly, “Hey, would you like to use our yard for the wedding?” I couldn’t say yes fast enough.

Also, understand that women are women all over the world, which meant that when Janet arrived she needed to choose rings, flowers, food, a cake, decorate the house, etc. The day of our outdoor wedding, September 22nd, it rained. Hell, it’s Oregon; of course it rained. But Janet was determined. We got a ten minute break in the weather and did the wedding then. Afterwards, the reception, which was also supposed to be outdoors, was crammed into our home.

In the end it all happened, it all worked, and Janet and I survived it. It’s a story to tell – well maybe not to the grandkids – but to all of you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat – with Janet that is.

Easy peasy, right?

Blog, Story

The Bad Seed or How I Went from the Outhouse to the Penthouse

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OK, I’ve gushed about Janet often enough that you can tell that I like her pretty well and think she’s a great wife. But lest you think that all Filipinas are like Janet – well “it ain’t necessarily so.”

Janet wasn’t the first girl I met in the Philippines. Actually she flat out wouldn’t meet me when I first planned visiting the country. “I’m not interested in being part of your collect and select,” she declared when I suggested that we could meet in Cebu, where I was planning on meeting a couple of other candidates. No problem, I thought. There are plenty of the proverbial fish in the lush seas in and around the Philippines.

Naive guys go to the Philippines thinking getting around ought to be as easy as renting a car and taking off. But again, “it ain’t necessarily so.” The country’s made up of 7107 islands; the biggest ones are reached by ferry, not car. And if you are a brave enough soul to rent a car and drive in the Philippines, just let me know and we’ll alert the ambulance services and morgue, though not necessarily in that order.

I had scheduled a flight from Manila to Cebu and booked a hotel for a few days. One very compelling girl I was chatting with lived in Mindanao. I looked it up on the map. Only one island over from Cebu – how far could it be? She lived in the southern portion of the island. I didn’t know or care at the time that that was a dangerous area, filled with rebels – allegedly. All I knew was that there was a cute girl there who wanted to meet me – how dangerous could it be? The next thing I knew we decided to meet in Davao (she took a long bus ride to get there which impressed me) for a day and then fly to Cebu the next day.

The three days went by in a blur, a pretty hot blur I have to admit. After parting, I traveled a bit more around Manila and then spent a week in Vietnam, before returning to the U.S. We chatted every day online and by the time I returned I was pretty hooked.

While in Cebu, Kathy (name changed to protect the guilty) asked, “When are you coming back?” I hadn’t thought about that at all but instinctively said, “Spring break – April.”

The four months whizzed by. We chatted online every day. It was fun, exciting, sexy; just like relationships with most Filipinas. I decided to go all in so to speak, so in April I took her for a week to Boracay. Now for those who don’t know, Boracay is the most famous tourist destination in the Philippines. The long, white sand beach is spectacular. Parties happen up and down the beach. Each night tables magically appear for dinner on the beach. It’s fun, sexy and romantic – and hot as hell in April.

The place is filled with tourists from the U.S., Europe, China and Korea. Less so Filipinas (except for the staff) for whom it’s generally too expensive. Cebu Pacific Airlines flies to Boracay but the normally inexpensive commuter airline is for some odd reason damn expensive if you want to go to Boracay. Add the costs of upscale hotels and meals and it’s just not a place the average Filipina has visited, without a “rich kano” boyfriend or husband.

Personal Note of Guilt: I haven’t yet taken Janet to Boracay and it is – well, a bit of an issue 🙂 Don’t worry baby – it’s gonna happen!

The week was exciting, sweet and sexy and by the end we decided to officially be in a relationship, meaning we declared it on Facebook, which has replaced the silly formality of a wedding as the only modern way to make relationships official. My friends were excited for me; that is those that weren’t appalled. Her friends friended me and chatted online, happy to meet Kathy’s boyfriend.

The week was exciting, sweet and sexy and by the end we decided to officially be in a relationship, meaning we declared it on Facebook, which has replaced the silly formality of a wedding as the only way nowadays to make relationships official.

Yet despite all the excitement, I remained cautious. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled enough that I told myself and her that I would visit the Philippines a few more times, before I got really serious. She agreed entirely, not wanting to rush into marriage. That in and of itself should have been a red flag.

A month later, chatting and talking started happening a bit less; the excuses made sense, but nevertheless I worried. Eventually she laid the boom on me. Her father was seriously against our relationship and wanted her to cut it off. She and her dad weren’t speaking but they were fighting. I wrote her dad a serious and impassioned note and asked her to give it to him. She assured me it wouldn’t  matter – that his mind was made up – but I was equally insistent that she try.

Why was he against the relationship? Because I was a foreigner, much older than Kathy, and because I was not a Mormon. Oh, yes, I failed to mention that Kathy was not the standard Catholic Filipina; she was Mormon. At one point I had spoken to Kathy’s brother and he asked me if I understood just how important it was for a Mormon to marry in the temple and this would be impossible if Kathy were not marrying another Mormon. I began to investigate the ins and outs of Mormon and non-Mormon relationships and assured Kathy that I would in no way interfere with her religious beliefs.

Another week passed and Kathy sadly informed me that her father was adamant and that in the Philippines not obeying the wishes of her father regarding marriage, particularly as a Mormon, was impossible; so sadly we would not be able to see each other again.

It seemed so ironic. Here I was nearly 60 years old and for the first time in my life the parents didn’t like me. In the past the parents, particularly the mothers, always liked me. It was their daughters who were a bit less enthusiastic.

By then I had already booked my next trip to the Philippines which we had been planning. What should I do? I licked my wounds but wasn’t down for long. I had discovered that I liked the Philippines very much and Filipinas even more. Perhaps there was another one out there for me; Kathy had been magnanimous enough to encourage me to go find another.

Of course I had been chatting with Janet for about a year and she was the person I wanted to meet (and that bit of drama will get written up eventually). I had been telling her of the struggles with “my girlfriend” and Janet was sympathetic though disinterested when the subject of said girlfriend came up. Truth be told, Janet was pissed as hell that I had “chosen” another girl. But something was to happen first to change everything.

A week went by after our forced break up. We made it official – by removing the “in a relationship” status on Facebook, via a sad click of the mouse. Then, one Saturday morning I was checking FB. I was still friends with several of Kathy’s friends. And there posted on one of her friends walls were pictures of Kathy in white wedding dress. A full blown set of wedding pictures, party and all followed.

I was incensed! The guy was another American, and while not as ancient as me, he was no spring chicken either. For all I knew he wasn’t even a Mormon!
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I wrote Kathy a furious email telling her in no uncertain terms that I didn’t give a damn that she had another boyfriend who she decided to marry, but that at the very least she should have told me the truth instead of the fairy tale about her dad not approving.

Two days after the wedding Kathy and I were back chatting on Facebook and she told me the whole truth – finally. Seems that the man in question was a friend of the family and had supported the family (aka given money). She told me she didn’t love him and loved me but “I am obligated.”

Worse yet, the man was ill, terminally ill with cancer. I remarked that he “looked pretty damn healthy to me.” He traveled with his nurse, she replied. His dying wish was to marry her and between the man and her family, she felt stuck.

“I love you,” she said. “Not him. But I will do my best to be a good wife.”

Back on my end of the chat, nervous laughter became hysterical laughter at the depth and lunacy of the whopper I was being told. I calmly reminded her that with the lengthy Visa process there was little chance that she would be able to enter the United States before her poor husband passed away. “He has connections to speed it up,” she said. She had a line for everything; damn, she was good.

Fortunately, the depth and nuttiness of the lies made it easy for me to move on and to move on up.

A couple months later, unexpectedly, I heard from Kathy again. “Are you still planning to come to the Philippines in October?” she asked. By this time Janet and I had decided to meet.

“I’ll be in Cebu,” I said and I told her the date.

“I will be in Cebu then too,” she replied, “getting my passport.”

“Are you implying that we meet?” I asked, stunned at her gall.

“No, no, of course not. I am sure by now you have a new girlfriend,” she sneered.

“And I am sure you are still married, right? By the way, how is your husband doing. Must be hard not being with him in his dying days.” I threw in an “lol,” one of the rare times it seemed totally appropriate.

“He is fine. I will take care of him. Maybe he will get well, God willing.”

I heard from her one more time. I was packing on the October morning I was going to fly to Cebu to meet Janet. She obviously remembered the date and thought she’d needle me one more time and hint that we ought to meet, except she knew that I was “already taken.”

Over the months I had received a few bits and pieces of information from friends of Kathy’s. The new husband had asked her to marry him several weeks before I met her in April and she’d accepted, meaning that entire trip I was sleeping with an engaged woman. I’m such a slut!

Her parents had not known of my existence, but at some point prior to the wedding her father found out. A religious man, her father hit the ceiling at the notion of his engaged daughter playing around with another guy and forbade her from contacting me. So I suppose in a weird way her story about his opposition did have a kernel of truth. I truly believe that in her twisted mind she figured she would get married and while the Visa process was happening meet me in October for fun, games and prizes.

So what’s the point here, other than to tell a funny story at my own expense?  What did I learn? I went halfway around the world to the Philippines and got f-ed over, but good. But I must admit I sure as hell enjoyed the f-ing.

This is my cautionary tale – we all must be careful when it comes to any type of relationship – but by learning and remaining confident and true to my goal, I ended up a hell of a lot better off, going from the outhouse to the penthouse.

 

Blogette

Stories of Kano Idiocy

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I wrote a little while back about “Uneducated and Dumb Filipinas – Really?” attacking some negative stereotypes. I am on several forums where stories of Filipina idiocy are routinely posted. In many cases it strikes me that the idiot is the kano who has no idea how to act in a foreign country. Acting the fool or acting like an Ugly American can only get you in trouble in a developing nation like the Philippines. Here’s my current favorite one:

“When I visited the Philippines two years ago, the first thing I did was head to the mall to buy a cell phone. I thought that it would be a simple matter to pay with my credit card. Boy, was I wrong!

You know that strip on the back of your credit card, where you’re supposed to sign it? Well, instead of signing it, I always write ‘Ask for photo ID.’ This makes it less likely that some thief will be able to use my card.

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So I try to pay for my cell phone with my credit card, and the bimbo salesgirl says that my card is no good, because there’s no signature on the back. I tried to explain to her that what I put on the card was even better than a signature, and that if she would just look at my passport, she would see that I really was the owner of the card. She wasn’t buying it, though. I tried explaining to some of her co-workers, and they too insisted that I had to have a signature on it. I thought about asking them to let me speak with their manager, but I thought, “the Hell with it, I’ll just pay cash”. After all, I was a representative of the USA, and I didn’t want to do even more damage to the reputation of Americans among foreigners.”

So the guy in question not only doesn’t sign his credit card, as he’s obligated by the credit card company to do, he puts in a ridiculous amendment and then thinks that the Filipina sales clerk is an idiot for not accepting his card or his explanation.

Anyone else want to share similar stories about themselves or others? I’ve got a story about my own idiocy that will be posted shortly. Stay tuned.

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The Myth of the Middle-Class Filipina

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Like in most of my wiseassed blog entries, the title here was meant to suck you in with a bit of hyperbole. Of course there is a middle-class in the Philippines, albeit a modest sized one. What I am referring to today is the fact that many Western men go to the Philippines looking for that elusive middle to upper-class Filipina woman and why.

Apparently for many, it isn’t enough that the woman they seek is attractive, youngish, feminine, intelligent and educated, let alone that such a woman would actually consider someone like them (and me) as a partner. No, these guys also are delusionally determined to find someone who is not a poor Filipina, who is part of the Philippines middle-class, or worse still, the upper crust, the Pinay version of a 1 percenter.

This made me consider a couple things: what constitutes middle-class and why would such a distinction be important to some guys?

I’m not a sociologist but it strikes me that in daily practical life there are three types of middle-class: economic, occupational, and social.

Economic’s obvious. In the U.S., does a guy make enough cash to afford a decent place to live, make his car payment, put food on the table, and pay for his booze, dope and gambling debts? If so, then he’s middle-class.

In the U.S., does a guy make enough cash to afford a decent place to live, make his car payment, put food on the table, and pay for his booze, dope and gambling debts? If so, then he’s middle-class.

Occupational’s a bit fuzzier. A guy doesn’t have to be a doctor, lawyer or engineer to be middle-class occupationally, though it helps. He can be a blue collar guy and make good money, yet might be considered just a bit less middle-class than the MD. For that matter, is an unemployed doctor with no income still middle-class? A “sort of” relative of mine lost his medical license for a couple years (ask me about that story sometime); he still told everyone he was a doc, but was he?

Socially middle-class is the murkiest of all. I grew up in a suburban environment. My father was a business executive and we might have been considered middle to upper-middle class. But by 21 I was on my own and spent my 20s in a series of low paying, low class jobs, with a lifestyle that matched. Was I still upper middle-class because my family was? Or was I a hippie bum barely scratching by?

Murkier still is how these categories translate to a developing nation like the Philippines. In the Philippines if a middle-aged man with a decent job makes the equivalent of $1000/month, he’s middle-class. He can afford a simple house, puts food on the table, maybe owns an older car or motorcycle. But is that middle class by American standards? Nope. Here, someone can be on the dole and do all those things.

Just as in the U.S., occupational middle-class in the Philippines is fuzzier. Nursing or teaching would be considered a good, professional job in the Philippines. But since the typical nurse makes maybe $400/month (assuming she can find a gig), while she might have prestige she doesn’t have enough cash to be middle-class, at least economically. Even doctors in the Philippines barely make enough to constitute middle-class in the U.S.

And then there’s the elusive social class. A very small percentage of Filipinos belong to the upper crust social class of a few, monied families. These aren’t people even a rich kano’s likely to interact with in daily life. They are rich and powerful, rarely ride in jeepneys and can buy all the lechon they want.

Because of this, the medication should not viagra brand online be eaten along with other drugs that are taken to control high blood pressure or antidepressants are known to also relate to impotency. When you open the door to that system-to-system-level comparison with people with a lot of years of experience in the field of medicine as it will viagra low price increase your chances of becoming pregnant is to make sure your husband or boyfriend has a good sperm count. Erections are supposed to be firm and if that does not happens viagra free order then a person might be prone to erectile dysfunction someday soon in their life. The therapist or aesthetician is typically a cosmetologist with a state-administered license. vardenafil vs viagra Janet grew up in a poor, provincial family; no ifs, ands or buts about that. Yet now she lives in the U.S. and since everyone in the Philippines believes Americans are all rich kanos, does this make her middle-class or even upper-class? She doesn’t think it does. She still considers herself to be a poor, simple girl. But is she? She lives in a nice house, rides in a nice car (or at least a car with a nice monthly payment), and eats well. For God’s sake, she shops at Target; how much more middle-class can you be?

And I think this is a key issue. People in the U.S. believe that class distinctions are fluid; you can be born poor, work hard and end up rich; or the other way around if you’re Bernie Madoff. But in the Philippines and most of the developing world, going up or down is pretty rare. Class-wise a person usually remains the way they were born.

Throughout my impoverished 20s, if you’d asked me, I would have told you I was middle class or above, despite the contradiction of my surroundings. After all, if I was ever hard up enough I could have always hit my father up for money.

One other interesting factoid in the U.S. Almost every American considers himself to be middle-class. A guy makes $25k/year and he thinks so; another makes $400k/year and he too thinks so. No one wants to admit that he’s lower or upper class. It’s un-American.

But in the Philippines millions of people acknowledge matter-of-factly that they are poor. Unfortunately, the 1 percenters also readily acknowledge that they are rich. In some weird way they believe that makes them, not only economically superior but morally superior.

So now we get back to our tourist or expat in the Philippines. He may be young, living in mommy’s basement or old living on a small pension – but since all Americans are middle-class he thinks he is too and damn it, he deserves a middle-class woman. He’s drunk the koolaid and believes that more money makes a better woman.

And here’s where I really get annoyed. After all, he thinks, poor people are all crooks and scammers; it’s in their nature. Surely, he reasons, a woman from a richer family or with enough money to afford some extras (like the ability to go Dutch on a date) is morally superior to those poor people in the provinces.

It’s true in the U.S. also, right? Crime is strictly committed by poor people. OK, there are a few exceptions; the aforementioned Bernie Madoff, the Wall Street guys who brought the entire Western world into ruin in 2008, the crooked politicians (an oxymoron), phone scammers, email scammers, texting scammers. There’s also door to door con artists who call themselves salesman. And don’t get me started on those douche bags at the cable or cell phone companies. But despite these “exceptions” most crime is committed by the poor who are just born that way, right? Hmmm…wrong!

Some men travel to the Philippines and want to be more than they are. We men are competitive; it’s in our nature. Since finding a Filipina who’s pretty, sweet, sexy, loving and will take good care of you isn’t that difficult, some men need to find a challenge. They think it proves something about their own skills, manhood, and just plain animal sex appeal that they met and conquered a Filipina woman who’s not poor.

Janet comes from a poor family. Her family’s hard working and ethical, as is she. She put herself through college, working for five years, alone, far from her family, to get it done. Let those other expats brag about the middle-class women they met. I’ll brag about Janet!

Addendum: As always, my primary intention is to be a bit of a jerk and somewhat humorous. Whatever class your wife or gf is, I am sure she is a lovely ethical woman and you, stud that you are, completely deserved getting her. Me – I’m just very, very lucky.

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The Age-Gap Rap

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It doesn’t take a Rocket Scientist to figure out what people think when they see Janet and I together in public. Now first of all I have to say, that most people have been very nice and respectful to us. We haven’t had some of the big troubles that many Fil-Am couples living in the U.S. with large age gaps report.

OK, there was the one incident we had at a resort. Eating dinner, a 30ish woman sitting with her husband kept turning around to look at us. Apparently she thought if she looked our way often enough I would get younger or Janet would get older. Janet and I were giggling about it. Finally the woman turned around one more time, Janet gave her a little wave and mouthed “hi.” That ended that with me cracking up!

Then there was the grizzled 80+ guy who looked at us, snarling in disgust, though it’s possible that the look he gave us had more to do with his recollection of who he had to go home to than anything Janet and I were doing. It’s also possible that he no longer could remember what Janet and I were doing – and how often.

But other than that, it’s been good. When we go to the mall, sales clerks are very helpful, no doubt thinking that the old husband is gonna spend big time on the young wife. They go away a bit disappointed.

If you’re interested in an excellent article on the whys and wherefores of the May-December relationship, this won’t be it. My friend, Henry Velez, has published a really good one @ May-December Relationship. Check it out – I’ll wait.

I don’t like the May-December stereotype. While I might accept that the bloom on Janet is comparable to the month of May, I refuse to accept that I am a cold, frigid December. At the worst I am November; ok, maybe late November – Thanksgiving time – turkey and pumpkin pie – that’s me. But anyone claiming I am a December is gonna have problems with me. I’ll likely kick his ass, once I’ve taken my medication.

I don’t like the May-December stereotype. While I might accept that the bloom on Janet is comparable to the month of May, I refuse to accept that I am a cold, frigid December. At the worst I am November; ok, maybe late November – Thanksgiving time – turkey and pumpkin pie – that’s me.

Looking at it honestly, why should I be offended? If someones thinks I am interested in Janet because she is young, beautiful, vibrant and sexy, what should I say? “Thank you, she is.” OK, I’ll throw in a wink just to be really annoying.

It’s what they are thinking about Janet that is more egregious. I suppose if someone said something nasty to her I would be offended and have a few choice words. But Janet is a self-assured woman and knows who she is. She’s told me all along about money and marriage, “Money is important, but I would never marry without love.”

And here’s where this whole age-gap thing perplexes me. My grandfather was married to a woman 25 years younger than him and it seemed to be the most natural thing. They were a strikingly attractive couple since not only was there the considerable age gap, there was also a considerable height gap, as my grandfather was no more than 5’4” and my Aunt Ruth loved high heels and towered over him. I don’t think many people asked Aunt Ruth why she was married to my grandfather; it was obvious. He was a powerful, attractive and successful man. His hair was nicely kept and he had most of it. He wore cologne. He drove a Cadillac for God’s sake! And no one would have asked him why he was married to her; that was equally obvious. They were married over 20 years until his death. Contrary to current opinion, for most of history the age-gap in marriage has been a common thing.

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Let’s face it, the real reason modern Americans are put off by the age-gap is our refusal to admit that in this modern, enlightened, 21st century – men are still shallow. We unabashedly love younger, attractive women. Their youth, their energy, their excitement, their beauty; it’s all good. American women want us all to grow up and mature. For what? I’m just like my grandfather, except the Caddy has turned into a Bimmer.

Jack Nicholson said it best, “If men are honest, everything they do and everywhere they go is for a chance to see women.”

Filipina women, like their American counterparts a generation or two ago, want a man who is mature, worldly, knows how to get things done, knows how to deal with emotional ups and downs, and has enough cash to pay for a decent, if not luxurious, life with the aforementioned Bimmer or Caddy. (OK, the Caddy and Bimmer line’s a joke!) What’s wrong with that? I have heard many people say, “Filipina women want to marry older Western men for a better life.” Gee that sounds terrible. What woman in her right mind wants to marry a man to produce a worse life? For that matter what man wants to marry a woman for a worse life, although those of us who are divorced feel like we did.

So what’s the real reason some people object to age-gap relations between an American and a foreign woman? It’s the same reason that not too long ago many objected to inter-racial marriages. It’s the same reason until very recently many people objected to homosexual relationships and marriage. It’s not political, it’s not social, and it’s not religious. It’s completely about sex. Most of us (certainly most Americans) are more than a little bit squeamish about where and who a man puts his thing into. For some bizarre reason we feel absolutely justified in judging “you can’t put that in there.” Really and truly – I am not joking here. Humans are very judgmental about who and where you put your goodies.

I remember being 19 years old; a mature college man. I came home for spring break and somehow my younger sister and I got into a serious discussion with our mother about sex. My mother, who at the time must have been all of 39, was telling us that she and our father still had a very active sex life, thank you very much. I was nearly made apoplectic by the image. Despite what I realize now (that they were still quite young) they were my parents and I didn’t want to know what they were doing to each other. Moreover, like most young people, I didn’t want to know that older people still had sex. How dare they? Their job was to get old and set up the rocking chair, not get old and get busy!

The biggest problem I had when I first went to the Philippines and realized that younger women might be interested in me was my own attitude. I had to convince myself that it was OK. I had had a couple years already to deal with the issue. Like most divorced men today I sought my next partner through technology. I joined Match.com and began a year of intense self-reflection and frustration. By the end of the first year I estimated I’d gone on 70 first/coffee dates. I’d had less than ten second dates and only a handful of 3rd or 4th dates. But I was drinking a lot of coffee. All the women were close to my age. I was getting nowhere and I was surprised. Here I had finally grown up; great job, a bit of money, nice house, good kids, a working car; and very little interest. Truth be told, I wasn’t interested in the women either. Oh, I tried to be but mostly I was bored.

I then made the fortuitous and desperate decision to contact a woman 20 years younger than me. Blond with tattoos (full sleeves I later learned they were called). We began talking and then dating and then – well, you know. I was enthralled to connect with anyone, let alone someone younger. She had energy and enthusiasm for life and for me. But I felt guilty. Something must be wrong with me I assumed. I couldn’t connect with women my own age yet was having a blast with the young hottie. What was wrong with that picture? Unfortunately it became her job to remind me that I was OK and we were OK and that she preferred me. Foolishly, it took a long time for me to accept.

I spent that year finally allowing myself to enjoy being a man with a younger woman. Once I realized that I was following in the footsteps of my grandfather and cousin, then I was ready for the Philippines, where the women have no idea why a May-December (or November) relationship is supposed to be so bad.

So guys – get over it. Don’t worry about what others say. Despite appearances to the contrary, no one really wants to know where and who you’re sticking your thing into anyway.

Humorous, irreverent, occasionally informative look at a no longer newly wedded Fil-Am couple