Men and women, attraction and humor
Here’s an article purporting to tell us what makes men more appealing to women. The list (apparently in no particular order) is supposedly based on research and contains seemingly contradictory things like “wear a scented deodorant” and “eat garlic.” Who knew?
But what I was looking for was “have a fabulous sense of humor.” For me, the bottom line for any man I might want to date was that he had to be funny. Very funny. And not banana peel humor; true wit.
It wasn’t and isn’t something about which I was and am especially proud, because somehow it seems superficial. And it’s led me to some difficult relationships with some rather complex people. But it’s not really a trivial thing because a sense of humor and shared laughter is bonding, and humor tells you a great deal about a person’s way of looking at life. When things are rough, it can also take you out of the gloom.
So I’m not at all surprised to see “make your partner laugh” on the list:
Multiple studies indicate that women are more attracted to men who can make them laugh. Interestingly though, men generally aren’t more attracted to women who can make them laugh…
…women valued both their partner’s sense of humor and their own ability to make their partner laugh; men valued only their own ability to make their partner laugh.
Preach it, brothers and sisters, preach it. Don’t I know it!
Now, I’m hardly a laugh a minute, but I’ve been known to come up with some off-the-cuff humorous remarks, probably more than most women do (although I’m a terrible teller of set jokes). But alas, one of the observations I’ve made over the years is that men always say they want a woman with a sense of humor, but what they actually mean is that they want the woman to appreciate their sense of humor and laugh at their jokes. The vast majority don’t want a woman to be funnier than they are.
I’m sure there are exceptions, but that seems to be a general rule of life. But as I said, the men I’ve been involved with (and the one I married) have been exceedingly witty, considerably more so than I. And that doesn’t seem to be an accident.
The writer Calvin Trillin was a witty man in print, and he wrote a very touching tribute to his wife after her death. In it, he described their meeting and initial courtship this way:
She was…so very pretty, but that wasn’t the first thing that struck me about her; it might have come as much as two or three seconds later. My first impression was that she looked more alive than anyone I’d ever seen. She seemed to glow. For one reason or another, I hardly got to speak to her that evening. Two weeks later, though,…I dashed back from a remote suburb to a party that I figured she’d be attending. So I couldn’t claim that I just wandered into that second party; in romantic matters, even those who need to depend mainly on dumb luck are usually up to one or two deliberate moves. At the second party, I did get to talk to her quite a lot. In fact, I must have hardly shut up. I was like a lounge comic who had been informed that a booker for the “Tonight Show” was in the audience. Recalling that party in later years, Alice would sometimes say, “You have never again been as funny as you were that night.”
“You mean I peaked in December of 1963?” I’d say, twenty or even thirty years later.
“I’m afraid so.”
But I never stopped trying to match that evening—not just trying to entertain her but trying to impress her. Decades later—after we had been married for more than thirty-five years, after our girls were grown—I still wanted to impress her. I still knew that if I ever disappointed her in some fundamental way—if I ever caused her to conclude that, after all was said and done, she should have said no when, at the end of that desperate comedy routine, I asked her if we could have dinner sometime—I would have been devastated.
They had an exceptionally happy marriage.
I cannot just now go into this in depth, but my own attractiveness quotient re the opposite sex looks like, in retrospect, depended a great deal upon my perceived status within whatever social circle I found myself in at the time. High school, hospital, literary/artistic world — especially in New York (where how much money you had was noticed immediately).
The physical attraction of women is always an initial factor, but this can change irrevocably when you hear someone’s voice, and infer their intelligence and personality from this. Stupid, or dull females begin very quickly to actually look different physically, and the same holds true in the other direction if a lively personality is displayed. My best friend for a long period was a male model, and he introduced me to that world. Many of the young females who became models had been too tall or awkward in high school — when the “mean girls” tend to be in charge.
It happened three different times that I became very friendly with a female model after giving each one a book.
I can’t remember a joke, much less tell one, and I’m never funny, except when I’m angry, or trying to spell “sublimation.”
Also, after turning sixty, I noticed that my humor has been less directed at women, and more towards God. Luckily, I’m an atheist. Got a million of ’em.
Actually, I can remember only one joke: did you hear about the dyslexic that walked into a bra? Too visual to be hooked on phonics.
Cornflour:
You might enjoy the one about the dyslexic insomniac agnostic who stayed up all night wondering whether there really is a dog.
That’s one of the few set jokes I remember.
Neo:
Thanks for the joke about another dyslexic. Heard it before, but forgot it. Was just as good re-heated.
Women generally aren’t very funny. And men learn young that it’s futile to expect them to be.
Women, on the other hand, expect a lot from a man – a bank account, status, a live-in therapist, a full-time standup comic, etc. And, for some still mysterious reason, men will devote their lives to trying to convince some woman who “glows” (hint – they don’t, it’s an illusion – though a good one, while it lasts) that they can provide these things.
The success of women as a species is shown by the fact that so many people think that a good job of casting this illusion is what constitutes an “exceptionally happy marriage.” Others see the entire arrangement as brain-deadening drudgery and servitude. A few men spot the trap in time, like Pinocchio escaping from Pleasure Island before he turns completely into an ass.
Noted curmudgeon HL Mencken noted that “the only really happy folk are married women and single men.”
So that is why women find me attractive. it is certainly not my visage.
Neo – “But alas, one of the observations I’ve made over the years is that men always say they want a woman with a sense of humor, but what they actually mean is that they want the woman to appreciate their sense of humor and laugh at their jokes. The vast majority don’t want a woman to be funnier than they are.”
I recommend reading the commentary to the posts by Ammo Grrrl at PowerLine on Fridays.
Of course, those men lauding her laugh-provoking essays aren’t personal friends, and maybe they think she isn’t really any funnier than they are.
I think she’s a hoot.
PS reading through the entire article leads me to suggest it should be entered into the “needs to be replicated” file.
“You mean I peaked in December of 1963?” I’d say, twenty or even thirty years later.
“I’m afraid so.”
What a great exchange! They both sound like keepers in the humor dept. I love it!
Neo, I never heard the one about the dog before. LOL!
(Good thing I don’t happen to be dyslexic. I probably wouldn’t have gotten it. *g*)
Neo said, of liking witty men, “. . . somehow it seems superficial.” Oh, how I beg to differ. Getting close to 40 years of marriage to a man who still somehow manages to make me laugh almost every day, I’m here to tell you that it’s one of the things that can make a big difference in the long-term strength of a marriage. Not by any means the only thing, of course, but not a superficial factor at all.
I’m a more earnest and serious type on the whole, but once in a while, I make Mr Whatsit laugh too. He always seems delighted and surprised, which tickles me no end.
My husband and I share the same sense of humor; mine is more silly and his more of the wit and raconteur style. Whenever I meet someone who knows my husband, even if only from a brief meeting, I inevitably hear, “Your husband is such a nice guy—and he’s so FUNNY!” And he really is. Nice, and funny. Our kids assure me that I’m funny too, which is kind of them. Husband and I were just cracking each other up last night, after some far-off neighbors were setting off firecrackers, which set the dog to barking. Joe remarked that we are safe now from any burglars who announce their presence with firecrackers, which led me to imagine the conversation between the two would-be burglars at our door: “Ok, Ed, I think they’re asleep now. You got the cherry bombs?” “Uh, nope.” “Well, what do you got?” “Sparklers and snakes, Dave.” “Sparklers and snakes?!!! What kind of self-respecting crook brings sparklers and snakes? You got to bring the good stuff!”
My parents were both funny and in fact they made their living briefly as gag writers. My dad continued to write gags as a hobby, and forged a relationship with the cartoonist Henry Martin, for whom he wrote quite a few published lines. (Maybe ‘with whom’ is more accurate, I think they sometimes worked up the ideas together.)
Humor was definitely important in their relationship and in my family. In fact, it’s through humor that my parents met. They both went to UCLA which had a student humor magazine, SCOP or something; yes, googling I see SCOP is correct, you can buy them on eBay, how funny! Anyway, my mom wrote something for SCOP and my dad read it and thought it was funny and went around looking for someone to introduce him to Patricia Paden who, he claimed, because she had written this funny piece was the woman he wanted to marry! They finally ended up at the same party and the rest is history.
I remember once when this topic came up, my folks brought out a few issues of SCOP and my brother and I eagerly read what our parents had written; when we read the stuff by my mom, we laughed a little, but when we read my dad’s stuff, we laughed a whole lot. I distinctly remember my mom being disgruntled by that. So I don’t suppose it’s unusual for people to be a bit competitive about humor.
is there any attraction anymore. I would like to hope so.