Personally Yours

Recently, I spent some time—brief, of course—reading the personal ads in New York magazine. I always enjoy reading the “personals” in various publications, but the ones in New York are very distinctive. I’ll give you a couple of typical examples:

1. “Diplomat? Journalist? Academic? Beautiful writer/lecturer, extremely accomplished, sensual and cerebral, lyrical and analytical (5’8”, size 8) seeks similar man (to 45, 5’10” plus), equally accomplished, very educated, self-knowing, resonantly humane. Describe background.”
2. “Sensitive and romantic male, Ivy educated and very successful, but would always put the right person first. Outgoing, energetic, and fun, excellent appearance. Loves all sports, but also enjoys quiet evenings at home. Enjoys right- and left-brain activities. Seeking a female, mid 20’s – 80’s. Photo/note.”

Believe me, they all have this same smug, self-idolizing format. An immediate question that probably occurs to anyone reading these ads is, “If you are such an all around superior person, why are you taking the degradingly desperate measure of advertising in the back pages of a magazine—even if it is New York? And since you are, no doubt, seeking an equally superhuman partner, why would you think he or she would also be resorting to this same humiliating and pathetic means of communication?” Four possible answers to these questions might be:

1. These people are all members of the cultural/cognitive elite, who simply cannot find anyone to measure up to their lofty standards using the normal channels of socialization.
2. They—the placers of the ads and the responders—are all outright liars, simply recreating themselves with Walter Mittyish fervor.
3. They are holding back some significant information, e.g., a man who has all these excellent qualities, but he has only one tooth—and it is in the middle of his forehead, or a woman who is a truly extraordinary individual, but is so uncontrollably flatulent that a clause in her lease bans her from using the elevator in her own apartment building. Or lastly,
4. They are purposely misleading. For example, a statement by a man such as, “I’m often told I’ve got that ‘Newman sort of look,’ may actually be referring to “Alfred P.”


If I were asked to choose one of the above answers, I could not. More than likely the placer of these atrocious advertisements has a combined profile of answers 2 through 4—a liar who leaves out relevant facts and attempts to allure though deception, but there is also a possible, unifying quasi-stalker mentality.

As I began to consider which of the various people I have encountered over the years who may, at some Grand Canyonesque level of loneliness, have succumbed to this last ditch grasp at human contact, it also occurred to me that since the chances are slim that any of you who have toughed it out this far in the article knew any of these people, it might be more entertaining (and it is always my intention to entertain rather than instruct) to imagine what kind of “personals” some of our well-known celebrities might be driven to write, since as we all know from our secretive glances at headlines during out checkout line waits, everything is not always coming up roses for the rich and famous.

Despite a sickening feeling that I may have taken on the aura of those clichéd comedians of 20 years ago who always began their acts, “So if (fill in the star) were a service station attendant, he would sound something like this…” I will courageously continue with this premise, even though now that I have planted this bad seed, you are surely already imagining me quickly turning away from the audience, then spinning back around “in character” with some identifying prop or facial expression.

Nevertheless:

1. “Reborn again male Christian, who learned in prison that love is a ‘give and take’ proposition, is looking for that special, big and burly someone. Large hands, which indicate more than an ability to carry 3 or 4 collection plates at once, a must.” – J.B.
2. “Recently divorced, follicle-challenged actor seeks a broad with a high threshold for drunken tirades, old Smokey and the Bandit re-runs, and Dom DeLuise sleepovers.” – B.R.
3. “High intelligent, liberal, married (to a ‘dufus’) female, with above average futures market prognostic skills, seeks trim and faithful lover, who does not eat cheeseburgers in bed.” – H.R.C.
4. “Separated male, ultra-preppy type, 40’s who sometime enjoys dressing up as a giant sanitary napkin, seeks matronly, Waspish female. Warning: Can be a royal pain in the arse.” – P. of W.
5. “Formerly black, marginally male pop singer desires purely platonic relationship with early adolescent male; must love animals and enjoy bath-time games such as ‘scrub the snake’.” – M.J.
6. “Ironically surnames, retired Senator needs immediate inspiration for steamy, dew diary entries.” – B.P.
7. “Gap-toothed comedian/talk-show host seeks free-spirited female, early 20’s, prone to bare-breasted desktop dancing. Comedy-writing skills a plus. Those who have previously broken into my home need not respond.” – D.L.
8. “Rotund, right-wing radio talk-show host, worn down by aerobics instructor wife, seeks equally conservative, white female who is anti-exercise and not too stuck-up to substitute a food trough for a dining room table.” – R.L., EIB (Egomaniac in broadcasting) Network.
9. “Shaved-head, married, ultra-right-wing, ex-con radio host, willing to discount family values for one night with a morally corrupt, liberal, commie/pinko sex kitten. I will literally blast you into ideological submission with my 160mm crotch cannon!” – G.G.L.
10. “Married former drummer with legendary rock group and president of Identity-Seekers Anonymous, seeks relationships (ASAP) with an attorney of either sex, at any cost, who can get me out of 30 years plus pact with the Devil.” – R.S.


Fortunately, reason has finally triumphed over stream of consciousness, and I have ended, although it occurs to me that I still may not have rendered a plausible answer as to why these people placed their ads in New York magazine, but as I mentioned earlier, I write to amuse, not to edify.

However, I will leave you with an idea that my chronically unemployed muse splattered upon my legal pad (the legal pad being the only think Pat Conroy and I have in common), more to awaken me than to stimulate my creativity:

A new idea for a daytime TV talk show: The placers of personal classified ads—all publications, not just New York—get to meet their responders. No more predictable confrontations between serial-killer former nerds who take revenge on society as a result of high school locker room towel stinging episodes. Instead, every day we will have stalker-fringe, lying, misleading self- and other deceiving writers of fantasy encountering their similarly flawed responders. It would be done like the dating game, with the “placer” choosing his/her favorite. Of course, what we will have essentially is myth meeting myth; instead of “spy vs. spy,” lie vs. lie. Revelation, exposure, drama, agony, hostility, rapture (not hardly ecstasy—of course not) but flesh-rending humiliation and pathos? Yes! And not insignificantly, we will finally know who these people are. Give the people what they want, I always say.

Perhaps, I’m being a little smug—or self-deceiving—myself, but I feel that although I have resolutely stood by my vow never to instruct my readers, with the contribution of this media revolutionizing idea and its social and moral ramifications, I may have inadvertently provided a public service, perhaps even laying an infinitesimal cornerstone in the TV wasteland.

(Originally published December 1995)