JDaters Anonymous

Diane Keaton prefers onscreen romance to off. Why? No nasty breakups. You always know what you’re going to get. People stick to their lines, and do what they’re supposed to, she says. She also may or may not be dating Keanu Reeves, depending on which tabloid you consult.

In a related story, I will be launching my career as an actor in order to court onscreen romance. Because it can’t be any harder than actual dating, could it? Thanks, Diane…you’re an inspiration!

Remember the way online dating used to be? A secret shame? (Now it’s a public shame, but whatever.) Reminisce as you read and record your own memories here…

The Truth About Online Dating
The NY Jewish Week, 11/24/05

Back in the day, dating online was something no one talked about. Relying on the computer to generate a list of potential dates seemed to indicate a certain desperation, social ineptitude or level of geekdom, and the social stigma was overwhelming.

We also had a respectful fear of the Internet; we established emergency
check-in procedures, in case the nice quiet Jewish boy without a context turned
out to be one of those people who would later be described by neighbors on the
local news, as a “quiet, private person who kept to himself — we never imagined
he was a cannibal.”

Then, slowly, the grudging, sub-audible admissions began. “Well, for
the last X [amount of time], I’ve kinda … been … on JDate.” You confessed it
softly, in case the music suddenly stopped, yielding to your voice trumpeting
truth against a pristinely silent background. Since then, online dating is
assumed. We peruse disembodied profiles, no longer fearful of our potential
dismemberment, although there is always the possibility of dis-rememberment
(“Did I say I’d call her? Which Rachel is that?”)

We understand the reality — if you’re really looking, you have to be in
many places at once. Attending singles events is a good start, but how many can
one person attend in a given week? Online, you can ogle and reject (or even
initiate contact with) many eligible singles from the comfort of your own home.
Plus, the experience itself becomes an unintentional bonding point: “That guy
contacted you, too? I can’t believe he wrote us the same letter.” (Want more
proof? Google “I hate JDate” for about 42,600 results.)

Want more? Read the rest of the article here.

I just chopped this paragraph from my upcoming article in the Jewish Week about online dating, mostly because it makes so little sense. I offer as evidence of how tired I am…and how many times I’ve seen a certain dinosaur movie:

But on the other hand, we’ve lost our fear of online dating, throwing life out of balance. As Ian Malcolm, the fictional chaos theorist in Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park, might have said, we didn’t earn the power to disrespect the system—we were not vigilant about maintaining a healthy respect of and fear for the interface. And because we were that arrogant life–or, in this case, online dating sites–“will find a way.”

There’s probably some machine conspiracy theory a la Matrix in there as well (“we know it was they who scorched the skies…”) — what can I say? I don’t have HBO, so I watch a lot of Bravo and TBS/TNT/USA.

The whole, hopefully much more coherent article, to come Wednesday, as usual.

For the benefit of my non-Hebraically inclined readers, a shadchan is a matchmaker. The matchmaker’s job is, of course, to match an eligible, perhaps compatible man with an eligible, perhaps compatible woman. Depending on the matchmaking organization, eligibility may be determined by middos (ethical values), net worth, geographical location, religious hashkafah (point of view), or middos (physical measurements). Without arguing the relative merits or meanings of these criteria for matches, let’s just move on to the subject at hand.

Sweet Rose, a longtime reader of this blog and bloggerette herself, writes about why she’s not rejoining Saw You At Sinai, an online matchmaking service–she’s had bad experiences with the site, having not matched with a single person during her membership (I feel ya, sister–that’s my story too). But beyond that disappointment were experiences like this one:

But last night’s story is the absolute worst. A friend was telling me about a friend of hers (who I have met several times) who recently got dressed up, put on make-up, did her hair, and had someone take a very nice picture of her. She posted this photo on SYAS and received an incredibly rude e-mail, completely unsolicited, from a shadchan on the site. This e-mails subject line itself was “EW.” The e-mail consisted of berating and ridiculing remarks regarding this woman’s picture. Name-calling was even resorted to. The woman who received this e-mail was in tears after reading it.

This is the worst e-mail I have heard of, but not the only one. Who on earth gave the shadchanim the idea that it is okay to treat anyone in such a manner? Who taught these supposedly frum individuals that it is under the guise of Torah to give unsolicited criticism in a mean and cruel manner? What on earth was this woman thinking in writing such an e-mail?

Just because a person is single entitles no one, not even a shadchan who is “helping” that single, to be rude and cruel. I know many shadchanim received less than grateful responses from singles, and that is absolutely not justifiable either. But calling names and breaking down the self-esteem of women, for no reason that I can fathom, is ridiculously disgusting.

She’s right, no question. I’ve heard decent things about SYAS and about its leadership, so I’m going to assume that this one person is an aberration. An unforgivable aberration, but still not the norm. The worst thing I can say about SYAS is that for me it was ineffective, not further damaging to my self-esteem.

She continues:

What worries me the most is that this is not an isolated incident…One of my friends questioned whether men on SYAS get the same treatment, considering the fact that I have heard there are many more women on the site than men. I honestly don’t personally know any men who are on SYAS, but I would be interested to know whether any of them have received such e-mails.

I haven’t done the research and therefore may be speaking out of turn (or out of my, well, you know), but I feel comfortable saying that men don’t get these sorts of emails. Like it or not, there’s a huge imbalance in the way women and men are treated by traditional Judaism, and the imbalance is also clear when it comes to the value of a single Jewish man as opposed to the value of a single Jewish woman.

It’s no secret from anyone who reads my column or this blog that one of my central issues with the Orthodox movement is the way it treats singles, especially single women in their thirties and “Godforbidforties”: as “a crisis,” thinking that if the community puts enough pressure on singles, they’ll marry and do their due to the Jewish people by procreating. Never mind that some people, for whatever reason, may not WANT children…Or that most singles aren’t just sitting around twiddling their thumbs, waiting for Mr. or Ms. Right to knock at their doors.

There are those who say we’re being too picky. And then there are others who say that dealing with the nightmare of dating in the (let’s just say) traditional Jewish world — as evidenced by creepy guys at kiddush, nightmare singles shabbatonim and horrific shadchan encounters — are enough to turn anyone off, not just to the process of looking for a soulmate, but to the traditional Jewish community in general.

And that is–or soon will be–the true crisis.