Crabbed Age and Youth - Reflections

She is listening to Lips of an Angel (Hinder) on her mobile phone which she thinks is an example of great music. ‘I like that song,’ she purrs. ‘Do you like it?’ ‘Yes,’ I lie, trying to shut out the song and concentrate on the poem I am writing for Thailand Stories. Halfway through the song, she turns the TV on and flicks through the channels until she finds MTV. It is some dreadful rap song, to which she starts dancing (Lips of an Angel is still playing). Then abruptly, she goes to bathroom leaving both the phone and the TV blasting out their conflicting sounds. I am stuck for a rhyme, but I can’t concentrate, so I have to get up and switch them both off.

Ten minutes later she comes out of the shower with wet hair. Good, I think. Wet hair means half an hour’s peace and quiet. I love her hair. It is the typical, long, straight, jet black hair that all Asian girls have, and it takes a lot of hard work to keep it in good condition. She frowns as she brushes it out, but her concentration is so great that she doesn’t even notice the silence.

I did try to introduce her to my tastes in music, but I admit that they’re a bit specialist. I like classical and jazz guitar and try to play a bit myself. One of the advantages of the music I like is that it was ‘out of date’ before I even discovered it, so it can’t get any more out of date. Liking the Pavanas of Luis Milan, or a Jazz Standard like Autumn Leaves does not date me so much liking Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, because the former are always out of date, while the latter reveals the aging hippy in me – like those old black and white photographs of me with shoulder length hair and a beard which she finds so amusing. For some reason, girls today have an aversion to any hair that is not on the head – the other times when I can enjoy a bit of peace, when the tweezers come out, and under the arms, and more intimate places, get the plucking treatment. I love that look of concentration when she goes for some almost invisible hair. I sometimes think that if I could apply the same concentration to my poetry I might write something worthwhile for a change – real literature – not these shallow Thailand parodies.

She is getting ready for a night out – and once again we will be pulling in different directions. We will start the evening with a meal. I quite like the Queen Victoria Inn, which is an authentic traditional English pub where you can get real English ale – but she doesn’t like the food there. Still, we can both agree on the Lobster Pot on Walking Street: great seafood with a sea view. As for the rest of the evening – well, a gogo bar always hits the spot for me, even if it is only window-shopping. Needless to say, teerak doesn’t like that. It is not so much that she is jealous of me ogling the girls, but that she feels sorry for them. ‘I know what it is like,’ she tells me solemnly. The only time she got really jealous was when we went into Splash, a gay bar, and I was kidding around with one of the gay waiters. I suppose she was thinking that she could fight back against any girl – but if I really was gay, she had no chance!

I decide that we will pop into one of my favourite bars – Superbaby – so that I can enjoy a drink while admiring those petite white thongs the girls wear. Another reason is to make a point – I don’t want to fall into the trap of serving teerak’s agenda and forgetting my own. However, I know that there will be a price to pay later – I will have to take her to Lucifer’s. I used to enjoy a night out at a disco – thirty years ago. Even now, if the mood is right, I can still enjoy it. But generally speaking, I’d rather leave them for the younger generation. At least there’s one thing we can agree on: The Blues Factory is a good place to enjoy some good live music.

Sometimes, after idly browsing the Thai and Philippine dating sites (where many girls leave the age of the partner they are seeking at the site default of 18 – 80), and switch to the European equivalent, for example, the Daily Telegraph dating site. Here, I find women of a different stamp. Take Emily, for example. She as an MBA, and is a Personnel Manager in multinational company. She likes to travel, particularly in France, likes French Cuisine, and enjoys a night at the theatre or opera. She is 35 and her picture shows that she is a beauty of the smart and sophisticated type. I dream for a moment and read on – but I am knocked out at the first hurdle. She is looking for man who is 30 – 40. In any case, I know it wouldn’t work because I spent the last 20 years with a similar sort of woman. She was a wonderful woman and we had many happy times – this is not going to turn into a rant against Western Women (that will be next week in my poem of that name). I think the problem is that we in the west, both men and women, are seeking self-actualisation – the top bit of Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs. There is nothing wrong with that. The problem is that, since the early 19th century, a concept of romantic love has developed (thanks to Jane Austen and her ilk) that makes us (particularly women) believe that all our needs – social, emotional, sexual, psychological, etc., can be met in one person. They can’t. The story of many western relationships is believing that they can, and taking x number of years to find that they can’t. However, when the marriage breaks up, most people are left without an alternative theory, and end up either repeating the same mistake, or alone in despair, not knowing what to do.

Thanks to Thailand, I found the alternative theory. Actually, it’s not the alternative theory, it’s the original theory. The one that has sustained mankind through most of his time on the planet. It is that marriage is part of a social network, and that it fulfils some needs, but is not expected to fulfil every need. Thus, in the Thailand and the Phils, marriage and family are strong, though it is accepted that a man may also need the occasional outlet for his sexuality – hence prostitution. The extended family provides for many individual needs that are farmed out to the state in the west. The role of the man as the provider is important in these traditional societies, and since the older man is more likely to have established himself as a provider, age is not the barrier that it is in the west.

As for teerak, sadly she’s pretty near the bottom of Maslow’s hierarchy. I’ve been to her home and seen how they live. They didn’t even have electricity before I paid for it to be laid on. With that sort of background, small things make her very happy. Most important of all is the sense of security that I give her. Soon she will be able to take all that for granted and move onto the next level. That might involve going back to school and developing her mind. After that she’ll be on the aspirational levels that are familiar western territory.

Does that mean our relationship works because she is on the lower levels of the hierarchy of human needs? I have to be honest with myself and admit that there is some truth in that. However, I also hope that if and when she does reach the higher levels it will still work because she will still see love differently to the way we see it in the west and not expect that I can fulfil all her needs.

So back to tonight. We’ll be going out with Dan and his girl, so between the four of us, most of our needs will be fulfilled. Dan shares my interests in writing and music, and we have interesting discussions about religion. He is a Chemistry teacher by profession, and thinks The God Delusion (Dawkins) is the greatest book ever written, whereas I believe in everything from Buddhism to Astrology. The girls also get on well together, though I have no idea what they like to talk about because they speak Thai so fast that I can only pick out the occasional word. So we will have some serious talk, some laughs, good food and drink, and good sex afterwards. Everybody will be happy.

© Rob 2008