On Life and Love After 50 eNewsletter August 18, 2023
By Tom Blake columnist
| Home alone with only dogs for company People often ask where I learned to write, expecting to hear a reply like “At journalism school.” Or, they ask, “Have you always been a writer?” I reply: “No journalism school. No formal writing classes, self-taught, and prompted by an unanticipated Christmas holiday event. In 1993, I was in Santa Rosa, California, visiting my 82-year-old mom, as I did every Christmas holiday, and at least once a month. Santa Rosa is a nine-hour drive from Dana Point where I lived then. My wife of six years, and her two boys, said they wanted me to have alone time with Mom so they opted to not join me on the trip. I telephoned home on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, but no one answered. I thought that was strange, as I was unaware of any plans they had made. On the morning after Christmas, Mom and I were having breakfast at her home. The phone rang. I answered. It was my wife calling. She said, “Hi honey. We had a great Christmas. I’ve been busy at work. The weather’s been wonderful, and we moved out.” A bit stunned to say the least, I said, “What do you mean you moved out?” Mom heard my seven words, and her hackles went up. My wife replied, “Just wanted to let you know. Gotta go. Everything’s fine.” And she hung up. I hugged Mom goodbye and proceeded to drive back to Dana Point. I didn’t know it at the time, but that nine-hour drive was the start of my writing career. Why? I had a notepad on my lap. A million thoughts went through my mind. I reminded myself to not be a distracted driver. As best I could, I jotted down my thoughts. A word here, a word there. Short, incomplete sentences. The first item: What about my dogs, Amy and Kira? Were they gone? Were they still there? Had they been fed or left with water? The next item: Why did she do it without us discussing it first? By the trip’s end, I had a mishmash of notes on the notepad. When I pulled into the garage, my dogs barked. They were okay, nothing else mattered, at least at that moment. My wife and her boys had taken what furniture and household items they wanted and didn’t leave much. I described that in the notepad, which became the start of a diary. I was puzzled, perplexed, and pissed. A month later, while serving sandwiches during lunchtime at Tutor and Spunky’s, my Dana Point, California, deli, in front of customers and employees, I was served with divorce papers! And, as I was doing every night, I went home and jotted down my thoughts in what then had become sort of a woe-is-me diary. In two months, the divorce was final. Shortly after the divorce, at age 54, I decided to start dating again, thinking I’d be king of the hill, because lots of single women came to the deli. But those women didn’t want to date a broken man in his early 50s. Oh my gosh, reality hit harder than I had ever imagined. As I sat on barstools at Brio, Hennessey’s, and other local singles’ hangouts, I’d add the dating misadventures into the diary. Sitting on barstools, I honed my writing skills. After five months, I converted the notes from the diary into a short story. I edited the material 25 times. It was about 75 pages. I thought I could get the story published. I sent query letters to The New York Times, LA Times, Playboy Magazine and Esquire. No response. The Orange County Register recommended I contact the Dana Point News, the Register’s community paper in Dana Point. After reading my short story, the two women editors—Sherrie Good and Dixie Redfearn–agreed to an in-person meeting.“What do you have in mind?” They asked. I had no idea, so I just blurted out, “Maybe I could do a dating-after-50 column from a man’s point of view whose wife dumped him at age 54 and he’s trying to date.” They said, “That’s what we were thinking. You are whining and complaining so much about the cost of dating, and being rejected by all sorts of women, including younger women, we feel the single, middle-aged women of Orange County will have a field day reading your male point of view articles.” My column was titled, “Middle Aged and Dating Again.” The first newspaper article was called, “Home alone, with only dogs for Company.” It appeared July 7, 1994–29 years ago–in the South County Lifestyles section of four Orange County Register community newspapers. Sherrie and Dixie were right about the vitriolic responses from women. The first comment was, “Who is this sniveling puke?” The second: “Get the boy a crying towel.” And the third: “He complains that younger women won’t go out with him. It’s a wonder any woman will go out with him.” Welcome to the 1994 dating trenches, Tom. Soon the column appeared in 10 OC Register community papers. And then for eight years, it was also in the Register itself, the nation’s 20th largest newspaper, as well as the community papers. Opportunity had arisen from adversity. The unexpected move-out by my wife turned out to be a blessing in my life. Eleven years ago, in 2012, I was fortunate to join the team at Picket Fence Media—the publishers of the Dana Point Times, San Clemente Times and The Capistrano Dispatch. My column title, “Finding Love After 50.” I learned last week that Picket Fence Media has been sold to the Times Media Group, a collection of 29 newspapers in Arizona and around Los Angeles. My publisher told me that the new owners want me to keep writing my columns. There’s a chance that my column might be included in even more newspapers. I hope so. The number of columns and eNewsletters written in 29 years is approaching 4,600. Why was that divorce 29 years ago the best thing that ever happened to me? It launched a writing career that has been more rewarding than I could have ever imagined. It brought appearances on the Today Show and Good Morning America. And more importantly, it opened the door for me to meet Greta, a partner with whom I shared so many incredible experiences in the 25 years we were together before she passed away last October. And now it’s back to being single. And because of you Champs, I realize I am not alone in trying to find a new direction and maybe be fortunate again to find a mate. We’ve got lots of Champs who are widows, widowers, never-married, and divorced people who have suffered a hell of a lot more adversity than I have. Many are grieving now. Please hug them, listen to them, and be friends with them. There’s a huge cloud of emptiness and loneliness around them, which I can relate to. Have things changed on the dating scene in 29 years? Not much, except now there is online dating with romance scammers on every Internet dating site. Plus, now, instead of focusing on dating after 50, the focus includes dating after 60, 70, 80, and even 90. Same old issues—hard to meet someone compatible. And as we age, women tell me there aren’t enough men. For those who have suffered a major setback in life, try–as hard as it is currently for you–to include social interaction in your routines. Join groups, help each other, give lots of hugs, and be thankful for life. Look for that seed of opportunity to soothe the pain. It’s out there somewhere, you just need to keep an eye out for it. Have a purpose in life, whether it’s volunteering, gardening, sewing, joining a book club, or enjoying your friends and family. And pray for the people of Hawaii, especially the people of Maui. Thanks to you women and men Champs for being so important and special in my life. |
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