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I look at him, stunned that he could forget such a big part of 1973. You'd really dig it." Or "Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins!
We've been together for seven years now, and I'm so used to considering Bronson my peer that I often forget about our 13½-year age difference. In the beginning, if I wasn't thinking, Is he too young for me? someone else was thinking it for me—and blurting out, "Hey, have you seen How Stella Got Her Groove Back?
He probably grew up having to pitch in and help with dinner (if only to defrost it); he knows his way around a washing machine, and maybe even had to change a diaper or two.
When it comes to gender roles and the division of labor, you're better off with a man whose mother has already fought the big battles for you.
A man who came of age in the 1960s, before the women's movement exploded, when his (more likely than not) stay-at-home mom did the cooking and cleaning, might have to work hard at accepting the fact that his life won't be just like his dad's.
A man who came of age in the 1970s or '80s doesn't think twice about being married to a woman with her own career, or splitting the household chores with her.
(In France.) Another guy old enough to have danced naked at Woodstock stared incredulously at my alternative rock CD collection ("I've never even heard of any of these guys," he said, waving around a Pearl Jam CD) and asked if I had any Kenny G or Jimmy Buffet.
When I was in my 20s, my first husband and I went to three weddings in ten years.
Maybe women feel that because girls have a head start on maturity back in the seventh grade, our emotional and spiritual equals must forever be at least five years older than we are.
Whatever part of the conventional wisdom they buy into, American women find it easy to summarily reject younger men. They could be denying themselves the most wonderful relationship of their lives.
While years of relationships may teach a man to be a better partner, there's also the danger that he's learned to view women as gold-digging, untrustworthy sluts, parasitic leeches, or nagging harpies. Younger men carry far less of this bitter emotional baggage.
(Maybe he's carrying a grudge about one woman who done him wrong, but it's probably his mother.) They see women as wonderful, exotic creatures with many treasures to offer.
"This is nothing compared to the long lines during the oil crisis," I say to my husband, Bronson, as he pulls into a particularly crowded Mobil station near the Holland Tunnel. Or could it be caused by something as shallow and immediate as a woman's not wanting anyone to think her date is her younger brother or, God help us, her son?