I’m over thirty.
Okay, I’m WAY over thirty.
As a result it seems, the cells in my body have become less and less reflective rendering me virtually invisible, particularly to others who are WAY over thirty but also to the general population.
I was at a Lambda Legal event recently. I was standing talking to a friend of mine who is only just over thirty. A man, probably a little more on the WAY side than me, came up to us and began speaking to my friend as though I was not there. When my friend attempted to introduce me, Mr. WAY responded irritably, as though being introduced to a child’s imaginary friend while in the midst of some life saving explanation. He almost looked at me and then began speaking to my friend again before he’d even finished shaking my hand. He never actually spoke to me.
That has been my most frequent social experience for the WAY number of years since I hit thirty.
Living in West Hollywood, where every day is swimsuit competition, I could easily take up bank robbery for extra spending money. I’m convinced no one would see me walking into the vault and helping myself.
There’s this fellow, also on this side of thirty, who I know socially. We have all the same friends, we work in the same field, we live nearby, vote at the same poll, I’ve been to his office, I’ve participated in a private screening of a documentary he made, given him notes, he has been to my house. Yet he has never once remembered my name or recognized me. On one such occasion, I was out with a younger blonde friend of mine that Mr. Memoryloss had met at my house. Mr. M actually came up to us and began speaking to my friend and did not remember me or my name when prompted.
It’s really that bad. Clearly I have faded from view, right? What other explanation could there be?
Well recently, I’ve hit on a new hypothesis for this phenomenon. I call it Jaguar Theory. It goes something like this.
The most popular car in the world — even with the whole “breaks optional” thing — is the Toyota Corolla. It’s not the most luxurious. It’s not the most comfortable. It’s not the fastest, or the prettiest or even the best designed. The Corolla is the most popular car in the world because it is the easiest to get. It’s cheap, it’s available and it’s disposable. For less than it would cost to maintain, you can simply throw it away and get a new one. Nothing against the Corolla, they’re popular and dependable and affordable. They’re even the most stolen.
There are far better cars, but they ask more of the driver. The reason most people don’t drive Jaguars is not because they’re bad cars. They don’t drive them because they are not up to it. Too hard to get, too expensive to buy, too costly to maintain and too valuable not to. Most people are not willing to do what it takes to drive a Jaguar. It’s just easier to drive a Corolla.
I think the whole invisibility thing works the same way. Men hang out at strip clubs, because the strippers will let them put money in their pants. Women sleep with their trainers and pool cleaners because they leave after the appointment. People are frequently with who they’re with because it’s too much trouble to be around people you have to treat decently. Still more fearful and exhausting is trying to find people who treat us properly.
Men hit on people younger than they are not because they’re younger. Age, it turns out, has very little to do with this. Used Corollas sell briskly. Men hit on younger people because they think they are stupid and easier to boss around. The older man believes that he will be able to feel superior and act accordingly. They’re usually wrong, but it’s easy to blame their age when they get rebuffed for their bad attitudes. And, just like Corollas, the available young are plentiful and easily replaced by a newer model with less self-respect.
They call it settling down for a reason.
Dating a peer or even looking to settle up is too frightening, threatening and challenging for most. And who can get it up when they’re scared? They look instead for someone they can dominate or someone who they believe will be so grateful for their attention that they will be free to do as they like. How daunting to chose someone you respect or, worse, to respect yourself.
This strange behavior of the majority to seek second or even third best creates the false sense of invisibility among the Jaguars of the species. Just as our Toyota buyer never stops by the luxury motor dealer when he’s in the market, most people don’t bother to look at those they think they can’t afford. Eventually they just can’t see them at all.
I know it’s easy to think this is about looks, but that misses the lesson of the Corolla. Those puppies are all tarted up with power windows, Blue Tooth, IPod docks, reclining leather seats, surround sound, air conditioning, custom paint. It makes a very seductive little package. But like lipstick on the proverbial pig, it’s still a Corolla.
In ten years, it will be a ten-year-old Corolla. A well-kept and maintained Jaguar is far more likely to become a classic. Attend a car show and see if there are any Corollas there. But why invest the care and maintenance when you could just scrap the first one and move on this year’s new model? And one would have to have a high opinion of themselves to drive the Jaguar. Who wants a car that makes them look bad?
So, on days when it feels like I’m invisible I try to remind myself that I’m just a Jaguar in a world full of Corollas. Which are you?
Well, that’s a good one. Can I be a Jaguarolla?
These men who want young girls, it could be status and power but Scientifically it’s partly hard-wiring to impregnate younger females. Which hat do you wear when trying to figure out what’s the problem with Humanity, especially in LA?
Psychology?
I just read less than 10% of the population is mentally healthy. Yet, the 60% midrange turns out to be the norm, but they’re not “normal”. The healthy types are able to give with expecting anything back, like when you write a Blog, fer example.
The rest tend to “take”, and that’s roughly 94%.
It’s also their problem.
One…. stop having Mr. Way over at your house until he remembers your name! Really. Just say, “Oh, by the way, I’m Eric.” If he brushes it off or ignores you… stop having him over!
[I’m sorry, I just had to say that.]
Your Jaguar theory is brilliant and so dead-on.
I’m showing it to everyone I know. Which are you…. Jaguar, or Corolla?
I know it’s a geographical thing. That’s why I moved to Chicago. By the way, cars RUST out here. Why, just yesterday I saw a rusted out PT Cruiser and felt so sad. Remember when they were all the rage and everyone wanted one?
I remember going to Tracks, a dance club in D.C. back in 1992 with my new flame, a Polish immigrant in his 20’s who looked like Billy Baldwin.
Guys would come up and insinuate themselves between us without even a “sorry” or “oops”. I was totally non-existent being a ripe old 48 at the time. Only one turned to me and whispered “do you know how big his cock is?” My reply? “He’s more field mouse than kielbasa”. The upshot of this little tale is that is when I realized I had become invisible and useful only as a guidepost.
At 66, it even seems that sometimes I have vanished even to myself.
What a spot-on analogy! I, too, feel relatively invisible when I’m in a crowd populated by attractive Corollas. So, “yes,” I would say that I am a Jaguar.
Hopefully, I am not destined to be a solitary Jaguar forever, but if I am then I’m cool with that. I am not one to settle down again (been there, done that).
I am also aware that the gaze of other men isn’t as ardent as it was, but I also enjoy the increased anonymity. It was actually on my gratitude list this week. Fewer users buzzing around is a good thing. FYI – I adore you.
PS – I don’t remember being to your house or asking you to give me notes on any of my documentaries – and I know very well that your name is Marie of Rumania!
“Cast not your pearls before swine…”
Mr. Crenshaw,
That was a fine piece of work. I’ve been pondering this phenomenon since 2005 when a very strapping friend of mine (and yours) in the DC area told me that when he goes out—no one talks to him. He says it’s like they are afraid to look at him. Working at a Southern University, one sees all heterogeneous types of male insecurity. What you suggest is very egocentric, (from both perspectives), but it seems to have more to do with one’s inability to handle—or even look at—someone who seems well put together. It may be best to remain invisible to someone so insecure. You’ve perfectly described what most “tolerant” straight men seem to struggle with when encountering a… well-put-together man. So, thanks Rick—that made my day!
I was lucky enough to get a little preview over tea when Eric told me I deserved to be “waxed often and spun around on the showroom floor”. As usual Eric is insightful and humorous. I look forward to us all settling up very soon! Eric, you are truly talented! xoxoxoxoxoxox
You have succinctly expressed what I have experienced almost my whole life. I can not count how many times I have been in conversation with someone and someone else will come up and start talking to them without even so much as an ‘excuse me for one second’ before they cut in. Even doing that is rude, in my opinion. One time – just ONCE – the person said, ‘Do you mind if I cut in for a moment here?’, and it having been about the third time someone had cut me off mid conversation in the span of about three minutes, I replied ‘Actually, yes, I do.’ and I got the dirtiest look and then they proceeded to talk to the other person anyway. I just walked away.
I don’t know if it is so much that we are invisible as that people just don’t have manners any more.
As for being approached as a single person by someone who is interested in getting to know me – ha! It seems pigs will fly first. And I have no idea why that is. Perhaps you are right, I am just far too well put together. I look at the women my age who seem to attract men like flies and they all look needy and broken. Someone once said to me that I am too intimidating. Not sure what it is about me that gives off that air but I like who I am and am not about to change it just to attract someone who wants to dominate me.