Racy JC

Interracial Dating, Not Ready for Prime Time?

 

In the 1970s TV was more than entertainment: It was art. And even more importantly, it was a place to drive the conversation, even about the most controversial of issues. Lamont and Sanford bickered about the black power movement, Maude had an abortion, and George Jefferson and Archie Bunker finally agreed on something—that there shouldn’t be interracial dating! The shows were well-written, funny, and not afraid to tackle tough issues. This country’s litigious environment, coupled with the PC movement, and the I’m-to-lazy-to-give-a-crap mentality have made most TV so uninteresting that in many cases it is unwatchable. We’ve regressed so far. That brings me to a recent lawsuit concerning the TV show The Bachelor. Two Nashville brothers (that’s brothas, not brothers; as far as I know they are not related) launched a class-action lawsuit saying they were denied the coveted spot on The Bachelor because they are black. They argue that this is a job (which it is not) and is therefore legislated by the same anti-discrimination laws as other types of employment. In the last year, a couple reality TV producers talked to me about an interracial dating show. One told me that he thought the idea was “ten years too early.” Some people insisted that my book was “unnecessary” when it came out last year because “we got all that interracial dating stuff worked out in this country!” (Yeah right!) But that is clearly not the case if interracial dating is still not ready for prime time. Regarding the specifics of the suit, I didn’t see what these two brothers looked like, but at first blush I saw a couple things in the articles that gave me pause. Maybe The Bachelor has changed in years since I last watched it, but I remember them being pretty wealthy (if not millionaires). Regarding the two brothers in the suit: One was described as “a former college football player [who] now is a teacher and football coach.” The other “owns a barber shop, a sports bar, and a car detail business while also working as a meter reader for Nashville Electric Service.” No judgments, but I am guessing that these two may have been rejected for cache, not color. It’s TV! They must look good (and “spin” good) and I am guessing that alone puts these two out of the running. It was also mentioned that The Bachelor’s fan base is overwhelmingly white women and that advertisers are “uncomfortable” with shows that include interracial dating. A couple characters dating interracially on the drama series Grey’s Anatomy seems okay, but a full-blown show? Not so much. I think saying that advertisers are “uncomfortable” with the topic is probably more marketing myth than anything. If a show is good and gets an audience, advertisers will follow. But we are talking about The Bachelor here folks; there is not that much show to begin with. But this issue is much bigger than The Bachelor. (There is something bigger than The Bachelor?). The problem to me is this: Where are the Sanford, Maude, and George Jeffersons of this day? When it comes to TV and social change we are not “moving on up,” but sinking way down. I don’t like lawyers. I think that over litigation coupled with the “PC movement” has helped to drain us of our individuality and art and made us fearful. Furthering the problem of course is that people are lazy and don’t want to be challenged (we can’t blame everything on the lawyers). It’s easier for them to believe everything is hunky dory than own up to the fact that there still being real important issues out there. All of which culminates into TV being the bland and pointless drivel that it is today. I do think that the two suit-bringing brothers from Nashville may bring attention to TV’s racial or “interracial” issues, but the problems with TV are bigger than color. If we focus on the art, on scripting authentic entertainment—TV that really captures what is going on in this country—then this problem would fix itself. Interracial dating is more popular than ever. It accounts for around 20% of new marriages and many more relationships. If TV were “reality,” interracial relationships would be on TV. And if we can’t get TV back, if we can’t get TV to reflect real life situations, then we are destined to have a whole lot more real problems in this country than whether or not there is a black Bachelor.

Life, Love and the Pursuit of Sarah

It's wise when winning back "the one" to stalk her patiently like a Florida Gator!

Dear Racy JC,

I thought you might be able to help me win back my one true love. It’s a white-on-white relationship, so not really interracial, but my friend said you helped her a lot so I thought I would give you a try.

I was still married when I met Sarah, so I never made a move. We got to know each other well and become really great friends. When I finally got a divorce, I pursued her vigilantly and we began dating. When I tell you that I love her I want you to know it’s like nothing I ever felt. She is even smarter than she is beautiful and I think she is the most beautiful woman in the world. But problems with my ex-wife and kids, demands at work, and the issues around starting a new relationship with my new love—it was too much. To keep it all together I started leaning on alcohol. And that eventually lead to me losing it all: family, job—and my love Sarah. I know she still loves me. She texts me all the time and calls to check on me and see how I am doing. I am sober now, but she still has concerns about starting a relationship with me given our past. I don’t care about that because I know she is “the one” and I will wait for her forever. She is all I can think about. It’s been over a year now since we broke up and she doesn’t seem any closer to coming back to me. What do you think I need to do? 

Dear Loyal and Lonely, 

Thanks so much for writing. It seems like you have been through a lot brother, so first, I have to give you a lot of credit for hanging in there. I know the last four years haven’t been easy for many people (me included), so don’t judge yourself too harshly. On the topic of Sarah: I hear such heartfelt things from you. Move over, Fabio! Loyal and Lonely is the new Romance King!

If Sarah were a typical woman, winning her back with romance might not be a problem. But from what you are telling me, she sounds smarter than the average woman. She doesn’t want words, she wants action! My kinda gal. That is, in fact, what I would advise her if she had written me. When I say action, I mean consistency. You need to be unwavering in your feelings, in the way you speak to her and treat her, and in your sobriety. I see guys all the time try to win someone back. They get impatient and do something stupid like say, “Well screw you; I don’t want to be with you anyway.” Or they go back to those old bad habits they had sworn off “forever.” That is what she fears! So what is my first piece of advice? Don’t fuck up.  And the only way you can manage that is to make sure the changes you are making for her are not for her, but really foryou.

 

A year is a long time. Here is my second piece of advice. I understand thinking she is “the one.” I dated someone I thought was “the one” once myself. Now I look at pictures of him and laugh. Seriously, what was I thinking? I am not saying you will have that experience. It’s very possible Sarah is “the one” and you will grow old together. But in my experience, no matter what, you should never wait for someone. Life is not about waiting; it’s about living. If you are not living, you will be unhappy and those feelings (whether you like it or not) will be transmitted to Sarah. And it may be the cliché of all clichés, but if she really loves you, she will come back. I know this sounds like peace-love-and-tofu spiritual BS, but you really need to be happy and living in your moment. You can’t do that when your heart is aching for someone who is not with you.

What to do now:

• Stay sober.
• Live your life. See friends. Enjoy your kids.
• Perform a job that fills not just your wallet, but your mind and heart.
• Keep communications with Sarah open, but only if you can keep from getting your boxers in a bind over every little call or text.
• Ask Sarah specifically what you need to do to get her back. Then do it.
• Just keep the rest of it movin’ in a positive direction.

I know—easier said than done. But if you can do these things, you can do anything, including win back the heart of your beloved Sarah. And, as always, keep me posted. JC

 FOR MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR CLICK HERE: http://feverbook.com/

New Book for Sistahs and the Men Who Wanna Love Them

A new book—Swirling: How to Date, Mate and Relate Mixing, Culture and Creed—is coming May 15 (but is available for preorder now). The book is for black women who are considering trying something—or someone—new. You know what Racy JC is talking about: interracial dating!Swirling is co-authored by Christelyn Karazin, the effervescent, tell-it-like-it is host of the popular blogbeyondblackwhite.com. I snagged an advanced copy (Booyah!) and read it over the weekend. 

You might say that black women dating outside their race isn’t a new topic. For sure, magazines and blogs have generated a lot of noise the last couple years. But the numbers show that a lot of sisters are still sitting on the sidelines. The Swirling girls have an answer for those held back by fear: “Feel like you need permission to swirl? You got it.” It may seem silly, but sometimes permission goes a long way when you are trying to kick social change into a higher gear. 

Here is some of the advice in Swirling I really like:

• “Dating is a journey; not the destination.” Yeah! Preachin’ to the choir on that one, sistahs. Just last week in Florida this brother was bending my ear about how he had given up dating black women because, in his words, “you go out with them on one date and they want to get married.” But the women of Swirling know better. I know dating can seem like a chore, but check your attitude. The truth is, your date may not be the guy you end up with in the long run. You may wind up with his brother or cousin or friend. It never hurts to know more people. More friends create more opportunities for anything, including love.
• Get off your butt and out the house. These are my words, not theirs, but they’re essentially what the women of Swirling advice in their “52 Ways to Find a Date.” Loves it! I can’t tell you the number of people who write me and say, “I need to find someone. Can you recommend a good interracial dating site?” I always say the same thing: Get out the house! People complain that they never have “enough time” to date and then spend 100 hours filling out 1,000 personality questions or tweaking their profile. And that doesn’t take time? The Swirling girls acknowledge the Internet scene, but give you another 51 creative places to meet someone—from getting a tattoo (you heard them) to trolling the Apple store (get your geek on). The Swirling girls serve up a lot of fresh ideas in this section.
• You should recognize “when a nonblack fellah is showing he is interested.” As some of you know, brothers are not what one would call shy. They have no problem coming right out and telling you that they are interested, but as the Swirling girls point out, men of other cultures might not. The girls also note that you might unintentionally leave the nonblack guy off your list. You know—that 20-page chiseled-in-stone check list that all women (regardless of race) seem to have created immediately after the doctor smacked them on the butt? When you decide that you are going to date a very specific type of man, you often overlook others (even if they are staring you right in the face or flirting their asses off). You may not realize it, but race—subconsciously or otherwise—is often part of the list. The Swirling girls suggest that a good edit may be in order. (I know it’s in stone. You will just have to change it, Flintstone style.)

And even after my own 20-plus years of interracial dating, four years of full-time research, and writing a book on the topic, there were things in Swirling that I hadn’t heard before. For example, did you know that Swedish men typically do not make the first move? Who knew there was such a Western culture? (I will definitely check out that Viking smorgasbord the next time I am in Sweden.)

Swirling: How to Date, Mate and Relate Mixing, Culture and Creed, like most dating books, is written for women. But a lot of men told me they read my book (which is also written for women). If you are a nonblack man who is interested in black women—you want to know how best to flirt or just get a little knowledge about the black experience—this book many have a lot of useful information for you. Duh, right? 

Congrats to Christelyn. Best of luck with the book! If you haven’t already, please check her out at beyondblackwhite.com. 

FOR MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR CLICK HERE: http://feverbook.com/

Stop Hiding the Truth (and Your White BF)

Dear JC,

I've been dating my boyfriend, Colin, for over a year now, and we are planning on moving in together. I recently met his parents and they were super nice and open. Now he wants to meet my parents. The problem: They definitely won't approve. You see, Colin's white and my parents are from Kenya. Marrying fellow Kenyans is very important to them. Hell, they refused to meet my older sister's first boyfriend because he was Ethiopian. (Ethiopia is right next to Kenya!) What do I do? I really like Colin and I don't want his feelings hurt by my parents’ snubbing. I'm embarrassed by my parents’ closed-mindedness and the irony of the situation—my father's mother and family disapproved of his relationship with my mother (though for different reasons) and repeatedly tried to break them up.

Dear Flustered Over Family, 

Thank you so much for writing. Sadly, your problem is not unique. No matter the race, color, or creed, parents often look for ways to reject their child’s relationships. Racial and cultural differences historically are have been the easiest reasons to use. “He will never understand our culture,” the mom sighs. “Your kids will have problems!” the father protests. These cookie-cutter excuses are even less valid now than before, and furthermore, they don’t apply to a couple in the cohabitation stage. So don’t let yourself get sucked into that trap. 

I loved your comment: "Hell, they refused to meet my older sister's first boyfriend because he was Ethiopian. (Ethiopia is right next to Kenya!)" What you said is great for two reasons: First, it showed that you have a great sense of humor, which is important for anyone in an interracial relationship. Second, it shows how ridiculous these “culture” excuses can get. If your older sister’s boyfriend were Kenyan instead of Ethiopian, there would have been another excuse. They would have said he was from the wrong region (area, city, village, side of the tracks). It doesn’t matter what the situation—your parents are going to shoot down the relationship. I think it’s just in the jeans. No, sorry. I mean genes. Ha ha. If not the genes, it’s definitely taught to people at a very early age. People tend to exist in old patterns and are not even aware of it. It’s automatic, this playing out of their family’s script. 

As for your BF: Hiding things won’t help. Tell your BF right away there is going to be an issue. Waiting will only make it worse, I promise. Then it’s up to the both of you. Do you want your parents to cause problems in your relationship? Could you consider being estranged from them, or seeing them less often? Even though I think this result is unlikely, consider your options regardless. They may make things continually difficult for you and your boyfriend. Once you have thought about those implications, see what he has to say. Because he is in the dark (no pun intended) right now, he can't help you think this over. Tell him so you can figure it out together. And when you tell him, don't be alarmist about it. Don't cry and scream and say, "They will never accept you!" Calmly explain the situation. Be quiet and see what he has to say. Then take it from there.

Expect the worst, but hope for the best. Your parents might not take things so bad. And what if they do? They are more likely to accept him if you stick to your guns and tell them that this is the man for you. And even though we both don’t think a Kenyan accepting an Ethiopian should have been a major challenge, your parents have dealt with the fact that their children may want to date someone different. And I think, over time, even they can get used to someone with a lot more cream in his coffee.

You can do this! Keep me posted. JC

This article was also seen in the innovative and fabulous new mag Dstripped.

 To see more about this author click here: http://feverbook.com/

It’s Not You; It’s Him.

Well, it's me again just giving you an update (see post 1 or 2 for background). So the last time I emailed you, he (nice-looking white guy at work and good all-around boyfriend prospect) had helped me with my place by painting. Since then I've had a housewarming and I invited him...which he turned down, saying he had a family thing to go to.

Fine, no problem.  

At that point I'm thinking it's no big deal. I also have done some soul searching and have decided to put a lot of effort into me, doing things to enhance me personally. Within 5 days of me speaking that out into the universe, the company decides to move him into my area at work. We are sitting diagonally from each other. Now, I could have taken this as a "sign," but I didn't. Mind you, that space had been unoccupied for a while and other people have more seniority than this guy. (It's a window seat.) But like I said, I’m not taking it as a sign. Just focusing on me and my wants. I'm minding my business doing things that I normally do. 

However, since he's been in that new seat, he has practically ignoredme. He doesn't speak—hello, good morning, nothing. If I look his way he averts his eyes. (He's done this three times.) I tried to make small talk, but he wasn't having it. I offered him some Jolly Ranchers. Nope. Mind you, this is the same guy who bought me some Lemonhead candy! 

I have to say that he isn't the first guy to do this to me. Usually there is some interest, and then I'm like, “Cool, he's interested. He's gonna ask me out.” But that doesn't happen. Instead, the guy will suddenly turn cold and ignore me. When those tactics don't work, then the guy—out of nowhere—will blurt out, "How come you don't talk to me?" That has happened to me. 

Sorry for the ramblings. I just want to know what's going on! I have decided that this guy isn't gonna work out, but why does this keep happening to me? And the only common thing is that the guy is white! What is up with that?

I told my mom what was happening and she asked, "What do you do to these guys?" 

JC, I need to know: What am I doing?

 

Dear Not-So-Jolly-Rancher,  

First, let me congratulate you for not taking it as a sign when he moved next to you at work. That is just the kind of bullshit women use to make themselves crazy (or as an excuse to do stupid things). And on that note, don't read too much into the candy exchange either. That is another little something women do to make ourselves crazy—analyze every little thing he does. It’s like analyzing a monkey at the zoo. Scientists sit for hours and watch and wonder: “Why is the monkey picking up its shit and throwing it at us?” The answer: Because he is a monkey! That is what he does. I doubt there is a “why” when it comes to this man (or any other), and even if there is a why, knowing doesn’t make the outcome any different.

What are you doing, you wonder? Let me reply with a question. Why do you assume it has anything to do with you? As far as I can tell, you have a lot going for you. You are a (non-monkey) barrel of laughs and great fun to hang out with. You are a go-getter who tries to improve her life. The only thing that makes you less than a good catch is thinking that you are not a catch (and then trying to twist yourself to get someone interested). Realize that sometimes it is not you; it’s him. And don't let yourself, your mom, or anyone else (including me) tell you any different. There is no magic pill you can take, outfit you can wear, or thing you can do to interest a man. Just be you. Be happy by yourself. There are something like 3 billion-plus men are on this planet. Odds are high that one of them (and probably more than one) would be great for you.

You do need to ease up on yourself. Just like with making friends, art, or anything else important: The worst thing you can do is try too hard. And don't criticize yourself. Only one thing is for sure: Men like confident women. You can’t be confident if you are second-guessing yourself.

As for the loser kitty-corner from you: just laugh. Refusing Jolly Ranchers? What a psycho. Ignoring you instead of addressing the situation? This is not the makings of good-quality BF stock. And, averting his eyes? Did we just get transported back to the third grade? What a weirdo. Am I right? 

But I can hear you saying, “This does not help. What do I doooo?” Here are two things you can do right now: First, cut the guy loose if he is not working out. I looked it up and we have been talking about this slanty-eyed, candy-hating third-grader almost a year. I am guessing you have spent a lot more time thinking about him, talking to your girlfriends about him, and cursing the gods about him. My stepmom once said finding love is a numbers game. I do not think it’s a game, but I do think it’s about numbers. You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find that prince. And you can’t find him if you are sticking to one frog for too long. If you are not getting what you want from a guy, focus your attention elsewhere and, as we say in NYC, fuggedabouthim.

Second, get out of dodge for a while. Take a trip to an exotic (not touristy) locale with a totally different culture. Don’t go to find a man, but to get out of your rut and see things from others’ perspectives. When you get back, Mr. Jolly Rancher, the guy who lost it in front of your boss, or any other MWI (Men With Issues) will be of no concern (and instead be anecdotes in stories that you tell your new 7-foot Scandinavian boyfriend who is just sooo into you). Keep at it girl, and keep me posted. JC

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Trust me, it won’t hurt a bit. I promise.

Campeche, Campeche, MexicoThey say that trust is earned. That is true, but what if someone has done everything they can do to earn that trust and yet it’s still not given? 

This year was my first Mexican Thanksgiving. I had the flu and I was miserable, but I was determined to ring in a good Thanksgiving anyway. First, we arrived at our planned location (Mexican floor show with transvestites), which was closed. Welcome to Mexico! Then we drove aimlessly looking for an open place and, in our desperation, settled on a crappy American chain bar. Now, I am used to Thanksgiving being a disaster—that’s just the kind of family I have. But this time it was like I having Thanksgiving inside the ring at the WWE. Someone commented about someone’s ex and we were off to the races! At one point I think my friend screamed at her boyfriend for close to 30 minutes straight.

There is never a right or a wrong in a relationship. But listening to that tirade it seemed that an ex-girlfriend had cropped up in the beginning of the relationship, but had not been heard from since. As far as I could tell, he had done everything to earn her trust, including but not limited to: paying all the bills, working hard, helping around the house (occasionally—he is a man, after all), buying a house in her name and. . . wait for it . . .  moving to an entirely different country for her (She is Mexican; he is a gringo from the US)! Despite those efforts, the Ghost of the Ex-Girlfriend (two years past!) still haunts her. Did he cheat with her? No. Does he still talk to her? No. But Current Girlfriend can’t forget and forgive. This man is certainly not perfect (he is a man, after all). He is not always the greatest communicator; he has a few bad habits (Stop Smoking!!!). Overall, though, he is a great guy and it seems he has done enough to earn that trust. Latin women are known for their jealously, but in my judgement the issue here can't be explained soley through "Latin jealously" or even cultural differences. So what is the real problem?

Some existing trust issues are normal in almost any relationship. We all have our insecurities. But most importantly, a lot of people don´t realize that only they have the power to trust. Trust is like happiness: It´s all up to you. People can do things to help create that feeling of trust in you, but there is no magic pill, amount of time, or perfect deed that can turn that switch. It really is solely your personal choice.

My position is to trust first and ask questions later. I am not saying you should trust a stranger with your purse (or even a new boyfriend with all of your heart—he is a man, after all). You have to use common sense. But trusting someone has relatively little downside. You trust them and they fuck up? See you later, alligator. You keep yourself from trusting a person you love, and you both suffer. Trust is like food for a relationship: Starve it and the relationship dies. Feed it with trust and the relationship grows.

So the next time you have a trust issue in your relationship, talk about it. Resolve it. And then forget it. Because it the thing in your past is not the problem. The problem is carrying the thing into the present. And as painful as it is to be let down by someone you trust, it is never as painful as holding back trust when it has been earned.

This article was first seen in the innovative and fabulous new mag Dstripped.

Cougar Hunting from Mom’s Front Porch

I think your blog is quite funny. I get a kick out of the Jewish posts especially, since I'm a heeb. Anyway, I have a question regarding women in the age range of 30-45 and younger guys (such as myself).

I'm 23 years old, short, and Jewish. I get called Baby Face all the time, as I look very young. Women my age don't seem to fancy me too much. Occasionally they will flirt, but I'll be honest: I don't really get girls, at all. 

I had severe behavioral problems in high school and came close to getting expelled a few times but started working immediately after graduating, which made me grow up fast. Sometimes I feel like this is my biggest problem and it makes it hard to relate to women my age. Most people in college have no idea what it's like to actually have a job! I used to think women were turned off by my height but women 10 years my senior don't seem to mind. The Jewish part . . . well, I don't know. Maybe you could divulge some information. Should I try to keep it kosher or go for a shiksa? Keep in mind the kosher desire is mine. I was not raised religiously at all, but identify as Jewish.

I have slept with numerous older women and prefer them. I find them very attractive and more levelheaded and (not to mention) horny. They always seem to come on to me and are very aggressive and up front about their intentions.

This is my dilemma: I recently had to move back home from college due to a family issue and am living with my parents. I'd like to date a woman who is at least 30 years old but when I say I live at home, the conversation usually goes stale. Moving out isn't an option at the moment and I hate lying about it. 

What would you do?

It seems that a lot of women in their early 30s are really trying to find a husband, as they all seem to want to be like their friends and get married. I'm in no position to get married nor do I want to be married anytime soon, so I think that might be a problem.

P.S I'm not looking to mooch off anyone as I consider myself career oriented. I just really enjoy women in that age bracket! 

Thanks a bunch.

 

Dear Jewish and Jilted,

So glad you wrote in; I love the heebs! Okay we’ve got a lot of issues here so let’s get to it.

Young women and you—the mutual non-admiration society. Not identifying with women your age when you are in your 20s is more common than you might think. Men are attracted to confident women who know what they want in the sack and out. Most women in there 20s are about as insecure and inarticulate about what they want as the Housewives of New Jersey. I am not baggin’ on 20-year-old women. Hell, I was one. It’s a hard time. Society is telling you to go to school, get married, have a career, push out kids, but at the same time friends are telling you to screw anything that moves, be skinny, drink, smoke, and be cool (whatever the hell that entails). As a woman in your 20s you haven’t been anywhere and you have no idea where you are going, but you know you must get there as fast as possible! I think for 20-year-old men, just staying out of jail makes most parents pretty happy. (I know it’s sort of different for Jews, but even still I think it’s easier for men.) The other thing to your disadvantage is that many young women have a checklist etched in their minds. The list has things that really don’t matter, but are things the women have been told matters: a man’s height, looks, occupation, and so on. Women hold on to this list for a fairly long time, but in their 30s and 40s, if they are lucky enough to have met a few really great guys who don’t meet those qualifications, they chuck the check list and decide just to find a “good guy.” My guess is that is one reason height is a non-issue for the older women. I say all that to give you a little glimpse into the mind of the young women and why you have had some negative experiences. That said, don’t count out the young women! Some, like you, had to grow up early and might be a pleasant surprise. I think the key for young women (really any woman) is to avoid getting stuck. If they are not feelin’ you, then fine: next! But keep your eyes, ears, and mind open because you never know where the next great woman will come from. 

To Jew or not to Jew. As far as kosher or shiksa, I say that is up to you. If you believe that you can’t have Jewish kids if the mother is not Jewish (or that conversion “doesn’t count”) please do us all a favor and stick to the JAPs. If you don’t take that hardline stance, then I think you should leave your field open. As a shiksa dating a Jew, I am well aware of how near and dear many Jews hold Judaism (or at least the idea of being Jewish). In my opinion, being pro-Jewish does not mean you have to be anti-shiksa. But you do need someone that respects you and is interested in and willing to learn about Judaism. A shiksa who is very religious is not for you. When going to Hindu temple to research my book, the priest said that the women who married into Hinduism were sometimes more devout than the men they married. I think the same could be said for some shiksas and Judaism. Some shiksas are more interested in practicing or learning about Jewish traditions than their Jewish boyfriends. The worst thing, to me, would be feeling like she somehow “wasn’t good enough” because she wasn’t Jewish. So you get your head on straight, decide what you want, and then proceed from there.

Landing a cougar from mom’s front porch. I am not going to lie. Getting a cougar to date you while you are living at home is not an easy feat. I have dated younger men (had a 25-year-old Jamaican BF when I was 35), but the younger men had to have their shit together. At the minimum that means a job and place to live. A lot of women already suspect that Jewish guys are “momma’s boys,” and living with momma is definitely not going to shatter that belief. But don’t dismay. I can think of a couple things that move the odds in your favor. First, the economy has made a lot of men jobless or living with mom (and they are a lot older that 23). Second, your ace in the hole: Take time to get to know them. Dating a stranger who lives with his mom is an automatic deal breaker. Dating a friend-turned-boyfriend is definitely a possibility. Men who want to wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am are not a catch. (At least not catching the kinds of things you want.) No matter whether it is casual dating or something potentially more serious, it helps to get to know someone before moving onto the sex (aka Geschlechtsverkehr (seriously this word means sex in German!), spol, sesso, kasarian, or coochi planchera). Good call on not lying. That definitely does not become a good Jewish boy like yourself. If someone doesn’t dig you livin’ with the parental units, don’t kiss her off. If you like her, be friends; if you don’t, you shouldn’t be trying to fuck her anyway. As for 30-somethings wanting to get married: That is going to be an issue for you. I would watch yourself around the 35-39 crowd. A lot of them have the baby/marriage fever, but certainly not all. I didn’t at that age. But that could be an issue for that group.

Remember, you are 23. This is a great time to learn a lesson most men don’t get until they are twice your age (and some never do). Don’t focus on tryin’ to get a piece. It may be instant gratification, but letting the little guy do all the thinking will lead to many more troubles. Instead, focus on her. (Women I interviewed for I Got the Fever said that Jews are pretty good at that, so you should have a leg up.) What does she want? Is what she wants what you want? Do you really like to spend time with her? If you do, then Geschlechtsverkehr until the cows come home. If not, then – next! Thanks for writing and keep me posted!  

This article was originally published in DStripped Magazine, check out this cool mag here.

 

Looking for Paradise

People who date people of other races and cultures tend to be risk takers. Not the sky-dive-without-a-parachute or skeezy sex-without-condoms kind of risk takers, but rather, they seem to put love and learning above “fitting in” and doing what society tells them to do. Because they also tend to be interested in other cultures, I thought my experience in a remote Venezuelan jungle might just be to your liking. 

I don’t know what I was thinking when I decided to go to the jungles of Venezuela. I know I wasn’t afraid; it simply was not a country that I had ever thought about before. In the US, the only “news” we get about Venezuela is something bad. We are told it’s dangerous and that the government is to be feared and so people cross it off their lists of tourist destinations and opt for Puerto Rico or the Dominican Republic. And if we never go, we never know the truth. (Much like interracial dating. See the parallels here?) 

I went on the trip because I needed to get the hell out of NYC for a while. As a writer on all things cultural, it was definitely going to be a worthwhile experience. What I found there exceeded any expectations. 

We landed in Caracas, planning to stay only overnight. We stopped for lunch at a restaurant and suddenly I felt like a controversial leader at a political rally. I got out of the van and a friend shouted, “You are making yourself a target!” He commanded the rest of the group to swarm around me. (Nice! My own personal secret service.) Turns out I was not supposed to bring a purse in public—especially not a big, shiny, silver, expensive-looking one. Our tour guide bribed the restaurant’s security guard to watch our car, which is a necessity if you want it to be there when you get back. And later, my hotel room had a special quality not shared by the guys I was traveling with: a hole in the wall next to the lock. You know, so I could reach in just in case I lost my keys? Right? When that problem was rectified (so to speak) it was time to rest before heading to la selva (the jungle). I was with a bunch of guys, only one of which I knew. They all seemed nice enough, but that night an uneasy feeling settled in. I was regretting coming and felt the impetus to run, but where? What was I doing out in the middle-of-nowhere South America with total strangers?

The place. Getting to the jungle took four planes, including a four-seater that required one of us to ride up front with the pilot. The view from the plane was beautiful, but nothing compared to the view when we landed. We got out of the plane, looked up, and saw this (see photo below). These beautiful perma-green mountains with a ring of fog that made you feel like you had just stepped into an Indiana Jones movie. The first thing I noticed about the Venezuelan jungle was that it was more like plains than jungle, just miles of nothing but flat land and tall grass. Later I learned that in this wondrous place, all on the same day, we could walk through Africa-like savanna, hike through the forest, and walk through jungles with the tallest, most beautiful waterfalls in the world (Not an exaggeration, the tallest waterfall in the world, Angel falls is in Venezuela). And after seeing several waterfalls, you would think they would get tiresome. No. Every one was completely different from the next. And everywhere we went the rivers ran pink, dyed by the tannins in leaves of the trees. 

The people. The Canaima National Park is the property of the Pemon, the local Indian tribe, some of the last Indians in the world that still live their traditional lifestyle and govern themselves. The Pemon tended the thatched-roof hotels, cooked our food, and guided us through this diverse landscape. Supplies come only by plane. The land is overhunted, so very few local food sources are available. (We did eat some traditional foods, including termites and a giant maggot, yum) The Pemon have one small hospital and all 200+ indigenous people share one beat-up truck. Everyone speaks Spanish and Pemon, but because of the diversity (and because interesting people find themselves in the middle of nowhere in Venezuela, or as my father would say, “Bum Fuck Egypt”), several Pemon also speak English, German, or Japanese, among other languages. The Pemon have very modest homes, have to import most of their food, and rely chiefly on tourism and nonprofit aid to maintain their traditional lifestyle. However, they seemed to have relatively little of that modern invention that most of us are slave to: stress. The days come; the days go. Children are born, play, and grow. They have concerns, conflicts, and needs, but those things don’t seem to weigh on them like they do people I’ve met elsewhere. They seem as close to being at peace as I have ever seen. 

As most of you know, I lost my job in the Wall Street crash of 2008 and instead of going back to being a corporate tool, I wrote I Got the Fever. The person I was before the crash would have never gone to Venezuela. I was not into rustic vacations with any of the following: vicious prehistoric mosquitoes (puri puri), hammocks for beds, pants that zip at the knee (impossible to be a diva in la selva), and lack of agua caliente (hot water)! The person I was before would not have ventured to this magical place. And the truth is I the “old me” was not the only American afraid to visit Venezuela; there were no other Americans there with us. Although my friend was a little overzealous in creating my restaurant security posse in Caracas, like with a lot of places, you must travel Venezuela with someone who knows the area. And yes, even Venezuelans do not feel safe in the country’s cities, but in Canaima National Park, I felt safer and freer than anywhere else I’ve been. Venezuela reminded me of what I already knew: Things that are different, hard, or risky are the things that make a real difference in who you are and how you lead your life. So I implore you not to be afraid! Wherever it may be, whoever it may be with, don’t miss the chance to see your own paradise.

If you think Venezuela might be your paradise, check it out here. Learn about or help the Pemon click here. Or, if you just need to relax on the beach (like we did post-jungle), check out the beach house we rented on the Caribbean Sea here. Fabuloso! 

This article was orginally published in Dstripped Magazine to check out this cool new mag clickhere. (For more photos check out my album on facebook)

 

 

No Thank You—I’m Just Looking

Don't blow a circuit over some Internet guy!

I saw this question and couldn’t wait to reply. A woman says she has been dating a guy she met on the internet for “two and a half months” (first red flag: anyone who adds “a half” for emphasis), “he has practically moved in” (second red flag: keep your adverbs, lolly), and yet wonders why the guy is still active on internet dating sites. She doesn’t like it, but doesn’t want to question him for fear she might “scare him off.” Then she asks how long she should wait for him to stop using those dating sites.

First and foremost, you should never “wait” for any man! If you find yourself sitting by the phone, in a general holding pattern, or in any way “waiting” for your life to start, snap out of it! Men will keep you “waiting” for eternity if you let them. 

Second, we try to make things more complicated because an electronic interface is involved, but at its core, internet dating is just like any other form of dating. Let me translate your dilemma: it sounds like you are asking how long you should wait for him to get off these dating sites, but really you are asking why the two of you are not exclusive. Whether two months is long enough to be exclusive: well, that depends on how things are going. In my opinion, everything regarding relationships is better later. So two months (all-important extra half month aside) is probably a little too soon to get your panties in a bind over this one. If at five months he is still scoping out the internet buffet, then maybe you have a problem. Take it slow. Have fun. Don’t move in together (or even “practically” together). Keep your lives separate. With time, either you meld together or realize it’s not working and split. The only surefire way to ruin a relationship is by doing too much too soon. 

Third, you gotts to trust your guy. The internet has so much information that it is easy to take the relationship drama nuclear! I know women who monitor their men’s social networking sites (Facebook, Black Planet, Twitter, MySpace, what have you) and dating profiles. It is just a matter of time before someone aims a hidden camera at his front door. A good friend of mine even made up a fake profile and, online, approached a guy she was dating. She wanted to see if he would date this ”other” woman. (In her defense, he did try. Busted, brother!) But I don’t have that kinda time and neither should you. If you are uncomfortable about the man you are with, worry less about scaring him off, and focus more on being comfortable and secure in your relationship. Good luck and keep me posted!

This article first appeared in the September 2011 issue of the cool breakout mag DStripped. Check it out here.

FOR MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR CLICK HERE: http://feverbook.com/

One Year Down!

Oh No, So Many Choices!

I know it’s hard to believe, but the Racy JC Blog turned one year old this summer. (Such a cute bebe!) And wow, what a growing experience it has been! Great regulars, so many “ask JC” write-in questions (women about men, men about women, dealing with parents, and even sex!), interesting news events (Internet dating and Jim Crow,biracials in the South, and the white boy scholarship),articles in foreign languages (which is probably a good thing—si?), TV “appearances” (Fox and Jimmy Fallon), fun videos (trailer and sassy broads), and, of course, the occasional psycho to keep things interesting. I am heading to Venezuela to see some of the world’s last Native Americans living in the jungle (I really am), so I wanted to say thank you before I go! Thanks for a roller coaster of a really great year. Thanks to all of you for writing in, dating out of your comfort zone, and making this blog such a success!

Before I get my machete out and take on the bushwhackery in honor of our 1-year anniversary, I am reposting my favorite gem from the past year. Humor abounds here on Racy JC, but I think this post will always be my favorite. The post came out a year ago almost to the day, and the only ones reading the blog at the time were me and my cat, so you probably missed it the first go around. I hope you enjoy this one (originally titled “One Jew’s Quest for Mustard”), and thanks gain for everything!  

There is a stereotype out there that Jews are cheap. This actually dates back to the Middle Ages, when Jews were forced to lend money to earn a living because they were barred from other occupations. Now, I can hear you Shiksas out there interested in dating Jewish men saying, “What’s the skinny? Are Jews really cheap?” 

A good demonstration of dealing with a Jew, his relationship with you and his money, came on a recent trip to the grocery store with my Jewish BF (or as I lovingly call him, The Monkey). The plan was to be fast and get just a couple of items. At first, things appeared to be going smoothly and it seemed like we might get out of the store in fewer than 30 minutes and then... ur, ur, ur, we stopped short in the mustard aisle. The Monkey complained that the three different types of mustard we already had at home were subpar and that somewhere in this store must be the ultimate spicy mustard! (Jews like to go on and on about us gentiles and our overuse or general misuse of may-o-naise on items that should instead be topped with mustard, but that's story for another time.)  

In this section of the store there seemed to be well over 100 different types of mustard (see photo above). There was the standard cheap and reliable Gulden’s Mustard in the tall yellow container, Gulden’s Spicy Brown Mustard, Grey Poupon, Jack Daniel's Mustard (which brings a whole new meaning to the term "gettin' sauced"), Kosciuko's Beer Mustard (ditto with the Jack Daniels and check out the little kegs—so cute), Beaver Brand Honey Mustard (not touchin’ that one), Coney Island Hot Dog Mustard (What freak is going to think, “Great, just like Coney Island!”), Billy Bee Golden Yellow....  

Brings a Whole New Meaning to the Term "Gettin' Sauced!"

I now give you the very educational play-by-play of The Monkey shopping for mustard—a great glimpse into the mind of a Jewish man. First, he goes for the Inglehoffer mustard. Its superior packaging lures The Monkey in, but the price tag quickly repels him. Next, he moves to the cheaper Gulden’s, but the promise of spice is not convincing, so The Monkey heads back up to the more expensive brands. Mister Mustard promises to be spicy (with the word “hot” circled in fancy lettering), but the ingredients prove to be disappointing. I tug at his shirt and ask if we can go home because I am tired. My words fall on deaf ears; his focus barely disturbed, he turns his attentions back 100 percent to the rows of mustard. “How about this one?” I ask, trying to move the process along and pointing to the Olde Cape Cod brand. “It says it's spicy.” The Monkey shrugs off my suggestion with no explanation. “Cranberry mustard,” he mumbles to himself, “that could be interesting.” But that mustard too is quickly rejected; it could be tangy maybe, but likely not spicy enough. I point to Honey Cup, whose label says, “uniquely sharp,” but it is dismissed immediately on principle. “$8 per pound? I don’t think so,” he says. More than 30 minutes later and only after continued discussions about how my feet hurt and how he should just freakin’ pick a mustard already, we had a winner: Gold’s Spicy Mustard. (See the photo of the chosen mustard in all of its glory.) 

The Chosen One!

Now, I know you are wondering what the fuck this mildly amusing mustard quest has to do with the price of tea in China or the stereotype of Jews being cheap. So here it is: In fact, because of their history, money does have an important significance to many Jewish men. Most Jewish men I know can account for every dollar they have ever earned, going back to when their bubbe opened a savings account for them in grammar school. But that doesn’t mean they won’t spend it on the people they care about. Most of the women I have interviewed describe Jewish men as very generous. These women also note that their men do want to get the most for their money, which may mean that if you date a Jew you may be subject to: going to ten different stores just to buy one couch, buying the slightly (and “hardly noticeable”) dented floor model, or even very long shopping trips to the supermarket. But in most Shiksas's experience, the (shall I say) thrifty nature of their Jewish boyfriends is certainly not a deal breaker. (I have even learned a few things in the last two years.) 

By the way, he tried the mustard last night. His comment, “It’s not spicy!” The quest continues.

FOR MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR CLICK HERE: http://feverbook.com/