Post to the Host

Host Garrison Keillor answers your questions about life, love, writing, authors, and of course, A Prairie Home Companion.

Send GK Your Question »

Dear Garrison: I'm here to

March 18, 2004 |

Dear Garrison:
I'm here to report on the dismal state of dating for the divorced woman of 46. I love ballroom dancing, flying, and gardening. I go dancing every weekend with my friends, frequent Home Depot, take classes in things that interest me and never meet anyone dateable. I finally joined an internet dating service. All of the men that interested me didn't find my profile (wittily written, I might add) compelling enough to respond to, and the men who were interested in me left me cold. So I quit and have decided to throw my fate to the wind. Perhaps God will push a guy in front of my car and I can narrowly miss running over him, then we'll discover that we have a lot in common and he'll offer to buy me coffee while we talk over the merits of shade gardening vs. sun, East Coast Swing vs. West Coast Swing.

So if you come across a guy 46-55, tall, thin, witty, intelligent, non-smoker, rare drinker, who likes to fly, travel, dance, garden and would like the company of a pretty, intelligent woman, please send him down to Acworth, Georgia. I fear I am destined to die old and alone with 40 cats. I only have one so far.


I have a suspicion that you're going to find somebody and love him and complicate your life in wonderful ways, but I will say that the person you find may not fit your specifications. A great many happy married people are married to people who don't match the Ideal but who go well with their spouses. I never sat down to make a list of what I wanted in a woman, and if I had, would it describe my wife? I don't know. For some of us, romance needs to have an element of the accidental, the hand of fate moving us together, and so the internet dating service would be too calculated ---- our hearts would not be able to make that big leap, we'd be perusing other people as if they were books on a shelf. Next time you're in Home Depot, wander out of the gardening department up toward sporting goods and see what's happening there. Or the magazine rack. Or men's clothing. And if we hear from a man who thinks he fits your specs, we'll shoot him right down to you.

Previous Post:
« Dear Mr. Keillor, I don't

Next Post:
Dear Garrison Keillor, My family »

Post to the Host Archive

Complete Post to the Host Archive

American Public Media © |   Terms and Conditions   |   Privacy Policy