Mind Your Own Innuendo

There's just something about living in a small town. Maybe it's the people I know. Maybe I'm just a heck of a lot more interesting than I think. It could be that in a desperate attempt to entertain themselves, people make up crap. I think it can't be helped, gossip is part of the human condition. And I understand why it's interesting, I must admit I can get into hearing a juicy tale about someone I know and then wonder if it's true. The thing about a rumor is that once you cut away the fluff and the flash, there's usually a solid, though often minuscule, kernel of truth at the core. Bur kernels of truth are boring! We want adjectives and sordid details! Mix that little kernel of truth with a little innuendo over a happy hour beer, and voila!, you've got yourself a rumor. And the more far-fetched the tale is, odds are the faster it will travel. A little over a year ago I heard a doozy about myself. My divorce was freshly final and I was once again a single woman. Word was, I cashed in a large number of shares of a particular stock that I received in the settlement and used the proceeds to Botox and collagen-ize myself in order to be more appealing on the dating market. I learned of this from an acquaintance I encountered while shopping for groceries. She told me what she had heard but declared she didn't believe a word of it! All this while she studied my face and told me I was looking very well. Probably due to the fact that I was feeling good, feeling happy and much less stressed now that the divorce was final. Remarkable what a good night's sleep and some peace of mind can do for the lines that threaten to become wrinkles. I reassured her that I had not had any "work" done and went on my way. Rather puzzled as to why she had shared this little gem with me. In the five or so years prior to the divorce I was surprised at various times to hear how many men I was sleeping with and that I was severely depressed and bulimic. The rumors didn't astonish me nearly as much as the need others felt to inform me of them. More recently the thing that puzzles me is when friends and acquaintances confide that they have seen my ex-husband with his girlfriend. They assure me that his taste in women has gone completely downhill and that they are frankly surprised by how unattractive they find her. This stings a little. In the twenty years we were together, my husband never gave me a compliment on my appearance. In fact, he was often quite critical in his assessment of my taste in clothing and the size of my posterior. And this is what I take away from that. I hope that they are happy together. They have been dating for over two years and obviously enjoy each other's company. While I have not met her, my sons have, and that's okay. Yes, I have seen them out in public together, but at a distance. When I am asked why I think that they are together, this is my answer. Perhaps he has learned to see the interior of a woman rather than judging merely on the exterior. Or maybe, my cynical side chimes in, he's over fifty and he's looked around, and this is what is available to him, he's desperate and terrified of being alone. And the kernel of truth inside that remark once the cynicism has subsided is, I truly hope it is the former rather than the latter.