Jeans or shorts? It’s supposed to get into the mid-80s (30C) today but I want to look cool.

Tevas or the Salamander sandals I bought in Germany in 1985? (Are old sandals retro? Are they in again?)

“Looking good,” said the doorman at the Affinia Dumont Hotel in mid-town Manhattan (ranked #5 of 345 New York City hotels on TripAdvisor.com) where I’m staying, as he pointed at my sandals. Was he having a bit of fun at my expense? Or did he really think they were OK?

I’m travelling for four months and had decided not to take the Havaianas one of my graduating public speaking classes had given me to replace those sandals. Now I wish I had brought them. Or gone out and bought a pair yesterday.

But it’s 4:48 a.m. and I can’t really blame my insomnia on jetlag any more as it’s three days since I flew to New York from London.

It’s Saturday and in a few hours I’m off to meet a woman who responded to the personal ad I ran in the Columbia University alumni magazine. My wife died seven years ago. We’d been married 34 years and since then I’ve worked hard to find another partner for the sharing and caring I miss so much.
I have done computer dating on and off. I always say yes to blind dates friends arrange for me. I talk to strangers on the beach, in the park, at the supermarket.

“Run an ad in the Harvard alumni magazine,” urged my son, who went to Harvard. “It’s known for its personals.” I did, and out of patriotism for my alma mater also ran the ad in the Columbia University magazine, which is not known for its personals, so mine really stood out.

The ads were not cheap: $836 each for one insertion. (I think I can deduct the expense as research.) I based the ad on an email a long-time journalist friend had sent to encourage me to continue the search for a new partner:

IS THIS YOU (OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW)?
“Never, ever give up. I can actually picture the perfect woman for
you. She’s tall, lean, mid-50s, likes to hike and swim in the ocean
— and still looks good in a one-piece bathing suit and a Tilley hat.
“She is sharp-witted, can do the Sunday New York Times
crossword faster than you, and has deep laugh lines in her face. She
has travelled some, but still has many places she’d like to explore.
And she’s easy-going. Cooking and cleaning are fine, but she’d
rather walk the dog or spend time over wine with friends.
“She’s no patsy; likes to have a good argument to get the juices
flowing. She’s tough but loving. Oh, and she can remove a snake
from a cistern.
“She’s out there.”
You, a non-smoker, should be willing to consider relocating to —
or at least living half the year in — Australia. Please reply with
photos to carpediemplatypus@gmail.com. Thank you!

I was surprised when I got quite a few replies from straight men as well as from women. I guess the guys thought this was a woman describing herself.

(The reference to removing a snake from a cistern was in there because I live in Australia. I see only one or two snakes a year where I live, and I’m more likely to find a green frog in the cistern than a snake. But the snake image goes with Australia, which has the highest number of the most poisonous snakes in the world.)

K said in her email she wasn’t sure about the snake, but was interested in making contact. Since then, we’ve videochatted to each other on Skype. When she heard I was coming to New York, she said: “I live only about an hour by train from the city. I could meet you in town or you might find it interesting to come out for a visit.”

That visit is now only a few hours away. I’ve packed the catfood for her cat in an AT&T bag (“I couldn’t decide between a cellphone and catfood, so if your cat prefers a cellphone just let me know and I’ll exchange the catfood”), a fancy box of Lindt Lindor chocolates for her mum and for K a little wooden box with eucalyptus oil, soap and lip balm I bought when I was on Kangaroo Island, off the coast of South Australia, and brought with me in case I ran into an occasion like this.

“Be yourself, Dad,” said my son. OK, I’ll wear the jeans and sandals, and take the shorts in my backpack.

K sounds nice, we appear to be compatible, the Skype chats have been friendly. But I’ve been this route often enough that I now do my best to keep expectations to a minimum. Still, I hope it might work out this time. If I don’t have any hope, why am I doing this?