You are so lucky, Deanna. Getting a truly heartfelt compliment from a grammatically challenged moron is so delightful. I‘m on the lookout for those every morning when I open my mail. And at least once a week, there they are.

As a man, I have to deal with the fact of biology that, past a certain age, we become invisible to the other gender. Fortunately, the internet knows everything about us personally. So, while I’m getting (on a daily basis) the emails of concerned Samaritans who know that I’m desperate for their stair lifts, hearing aids, and some other aids that are less acceptable topics in a social discussion, the internet also knows that I’m a hot-bod and, as such, perfect marriage material for ladies at least 30 years younger who yearn for me. Or at least for whatever they claim to have read on my LinkedIn profile.

I typically refer them to my wife, suggesting that if they can convince her to let me go, we’ll have a date. What they don’t know is that, hypothetically, if thrown into a shark tank together with my wife, the shark would have an identity crisis.

So, enjoy your Medium suitors, and let your husband handle them.