We’ve got a crisis, dammit. And I’m not talking about global warming—everyone knows that’s a conspiracy. I’m talking about something real. I’m talking about the shidduch crisis.
First, let’s define our terms. Webster defines crisis as “a paroxysmal attack of pain, distress, or disordered function.” That seems about accurate.
An average Thursday night—the scene is heart-breaking. Young Stern women are wandering around, aimlessly. They’re in an obvious fog. Unsure of where to go, or what to do with themselves. They resort to spending time with friends. Or reading a novel. Or going to a movie. And, why, why are they driven to these desperate measures? Because they’re single. They are experiencing a ‘paroxysmal attack of pain’—need I say more?
Everyone knows: men solve everything. Being in a relationship, or rather, tying the glorious knot to spend the rest of eternity with that special someone, is the answer to happiness. Once you find the one, you’ve practically crossed the threshold into the Messianic era. There are no more problems, no more worries, none at all. Just endless bliss—who needs money, or food? You can survive on love alone (and sometimes food-stamps). And, until that whole pregnancy and children phase comes along and dominates the rest of your life with diapers, and then terrible-twos, and then tuition bills, and mini-van carpools, and couch fights, and rebellious teenage-hood, and cooking dinner every night for the next couple decades, everything is so quiet and peaceful.
But, it’s the hellish singlehood beforehand that needs to be shortened, and eliminated completely if possible. Because, being single is akin to getting stuck on a treadmill for all of eternity. It’s that bad (and terrible for the knees). The freedom, the time and space to concentrate on yourself, and no one else, is like a ball and chain. Who wants that? Who wants time to develop hobbies? Who wants time to establish a career? Who wants time to travel, or read, or maybe even enjoy your education? No one in his or her right mind, that’s who.
Ergo, we’ve got a crisis. And whose fault is it? It’s the fault of the people who are unabashedly enjoying their singlehood. It’s a downright shanda. Believe it or not, there are women, already in their twenties, who are trying to enjoy life. Yes, that’s right—enjoyed their singlehood, instead of concentrating on finding a mate, getting through the preliminaries (dating and what-not) as quickly as possible, getting hitched, and reproducing. Pro-creation. Whatever you want to call it. Evolution backs me up—it’s not only important, it’s the most important.
So, to all those singles out their reveling in their singlehood, I say—shame on you. You are the reason for this crisis. Stop enjoying life. Stop taking time for yourself, you selfish good-for-nothings. And start doing something that matters. Like dating. And marriage.
Everyone knows, the only true guarantee of pure, simple, unadulterated happiness is marriage. So, let’s work together to solve this crisis.
Say I-do?
The Shidduch Crisis: Why it’s Real, and Your Fault
We’ve got a crisis, dammit. And I’m not talking about global warming—everyone knows that’s a conspiracy. I’m talking about something real. I’m talking about the shidduch crisis.
First, let’s define our terms. Webster defines crisis as “a paroxysmal attack of pain, distress, or disordered function.” That seems about accurate.
An average Thursday night—the scene is heart-breaking. Young Stern women are wandering around, aimlessly. They’re in an obvious fog. Unsure of where to go, or what to do with themselves. They resort to spending time with friends. Or reading a novel. Or going to a movie. And, why, why are they driven to these desperate measures? Because they’re single. They are experiencing a ‘paroxysmal attack of pain’—need I say more?
Everyone knows: men solve everything. Being in a relationship, or rather, tying the glorious knot to spend the rest of eternity with that special someone, is the answer to happiness. Once you find the one, you’ve practically crossed the threshold into the Messianic era. There are no more problems, no more worries, none at all. Just endless bliss—who needs money, or food? You can survive on love alone (and sometimes food-stamps). And, until that whole pregnancy and children phase comes along and dominates the rest of your life with diapers, and then terrible-twos, and then tuition bills, and mini-van carpools, and couch fights, and rebellious teenage-hood, and cooking dinner every night for the next couple decades, everything is so quiet and peaceful.
But, it’s the hellish singlehood beforehand that needs to be shortened, and eliminated completely if possible. Because, being single is akin to getting stuck on a treadmill for all of eternity. It’s that bad (and terrible for the knees). The freedom, the time and space to concentrate on yourself, and no one else, is like a ball and chain. Who wants that? Who wants time to develop hobbies? Who wants time to establish a career? Who wants time to travel, or read, or maybe even enjoy your education? No one in his or her right mind, that’s who.
Ergo, we’ve got a crisis. And whose fault is it? It’s the fault of the people who are unabashedly enjoying their singlehood. It’s a downright shanda. Believe it or not, there are women, already in their twenties, who are trying to enjoy life. Yes, that’s right—enjoyed their singlehood, instead of concentrating on finding a mate, getting through the preliminaries (dating and what-not) as quickly as possible, getting hitched, and reproducing. Pro-creation. Whatever you want to call it. Evolution backs me up—it’s not only important, it’s the most important.
So, to all those singles out their reveling in their singlehood, I say—shame on you. You are the reason for this crisis. Stop enjoying life. Stop taking time for yourself, you selfish good-for-nothings. And start doing something that matters. Like dating. And marriage.
Everyone knows, the only true guarantee of pure, simple, unadulterated happiness is marriage. So, let’s work together to solve this crisis.
Say I-do?