Leagues and Love

Out of My League
~ Big Frank Dickinson

There is the way of grouping people
Where certain characteristics of the group
Are assigned as defining criteria for them;
Much like the baseball players who play well
Are in the minor leagues and the hotshots are major leaguers.
So in the world of dating, evidently,
There are also leagues; not organized, of course,
But recognized by the members of each.
So , for example, a pimply, unathletic, moron
Who had a crush on a cheerleader would say:
I like her, but she’s out of my league.
It’s funny that it is the other who is identified as
Being outside your league.
This might be some small consolation.
She’s an outsider, not you.
Of course that outside is always more desirable
Than the inside which you are in.
So she asks me if there is anyone
That I think is out of my league;
And I say, “no.”
She thinks this is hilarious – ridiculous.
She believes it is a kind of absolute:
People are grouped in leagues (objectively)
And there are, by definition, some
Who are not in mine – or more to the point:
I’m not in the league of certain women,
Explicitly: the gorgeous, the rich, the famous etc.
I try to explain, that I believe that matches
Occur for different reasons than league membership.
She irritates me by telling her family and friends;
“He thinks that there is nobody out of his league.”
Well, this way of putting it puts me off.
It’s putting me into a league that I never chose
And then, by implication, makes me into
First of all someone who believes in leagues,
And secondly someone who believes
They are in the major leagues as far
As looks, money, desirability etc. go.
It’s like the old saw: “Are you still beating your wife?”
If I say no – then I’m admitting that I do believe in leagues,
And if I say “yes” then not only do I believe
But I believe I’m hot shit, which is not the point I’m trying to make.
The point I am trying to make is that as soon
As you use the word ‘league’ you are distorting the whole
Concept of compatibility into a hierarchy of limited categories.
Then, at this point, the metaphor changes from league play
To a commercial transaction where each person has
A limited number of chips: some for looks, some for money,
Some for professions, some for personality, etc.
Then instead of meeting within a league and getting it on,
People trade in their chips for the person they want.
Hence the stereotypical, on the surface, match
Is really explained as a commercial tradeoff:
She puts in her beauty chips and he his money markers;
They are of equal worth and they march off to the cashier together.
Well this seems equally unacceptable, and more to the point – wrong.
Such a commercial match would have to be rationally made;
And we humans are notoriously irrational. We choose mates
As much for cute noses, and quirky senses of humor as for
Piles of chips, no matter what the label.
People fall in love they don’t negotiate love;
Nor do they deal exclusively with fellow leaguers.
I like to think that we are together because we love each other,
But, maybe I’m fooling myself, and unconsciously, I’ve
Rationally exchanged the chips and identified us as fellow leaguers.
Still, I’m a romantic and dislike both
Categories and commercial transactions – especially for love.
I believe it starts without reason; though the end is given one.
We love beyond league or chips
Only later does reason this eclipse.

Cross Purposes - a poem

Cross Purposes
--- Big Frank Dickinson

The wall of trees was planted for privacy;
After the fire they hid the charred timbers.

He bared his soul to his lover;
She told him to cover it up.

They went to college for a better view;
After Sarte, Algebra, and Western Civ they still saw nothing.

The apology was a bit late, but it was heartfelt;
It opened wounds that had not healed.

The bread was thrown to feed the duck;
Lodging in its throat: no more quacks.

He swam to the outstretched arms;
They both went down together.

She stooped to aid the fallen man;
His survivors took her to the cleaners.

She told him the truth - it's what he asked;
He lied about wanting it.

Alms given with good intent;
Used to buy what's ill.

The mission brings the written word
That replaces a thousand years of tradition.

Love professed and care extended
Resulting in tears and resentment.

Good intentions brought to bear
Can still result in an burning tear.