I have to chuckle at Always a Bridesmaid, Kate, and others, complaining that women in America have such a difficult time meeting good men -- and then immediately going on to describe how, without much diffiulty, they met a good man.

Ladies, imagine if the good man you found (after so much "difficulty"), rather than being delighted that you might settle for him, instead reacted with horror at the mere idea that you could ever imagine yourself being good enough for him. Picture it happening to you about fifty times in a row -- being rejected, again and again, by an endless series of "geeks" (your word), none of whom you yourself would be proud to bring home to mom.

If you can imagine that, then you'll know what life is like for many men in America. No, not the tall guy you checked out on the elevator this morning -- the other guy, the shorter one standing next to the hot guy you checked out. What, you don't remember seeing another guy on the elevator this morning? My point exactly.

I also have to chuckle at the "anonymous" who suspects that the men who seek wives in other countries do so not ONLY because they are invisible in the U.S., but because they might be able to meet and marry someone "out of their league". Gee, ya think?

The calculus for a growing number of American men goes like this: waiting around while ordinary American women give their best years to corporations that don't care -- and a long series of men who wouldn't dream of marrying them but who are perfectly willing to sleep with them a few times -- in the hope that one such woman might condescend, as middle age approaches, to settle for us -- at least long enough to have a kid or two and get us firmly on the hook for child support. OR we can cross an international border and meet and marry a young exotic beauty who doesn't equate sharing household chores with slavery and who just might stay with us forever (even after she gets U.S. citizenship) -- provided we love her always, and devote ourselves to her happiness.

I know which choice I made, many years ago.

As I'm sure many others will also be inclined to point out, Annie Proulx has issued a second set of Wyoming stories under the title, "Bad Dirt". Every one of her stories in both volumes absolutely nails the place, in the same way that Tom Wolfe's wonderful quasi-non-fiction short stories capture what New York must have been like in the early 60's. Though for my money "The Mud Below", about tough-as-nails rodeo riders, is the cream of her crop so far, perhaps even equalling in its toughness Tom Wolfe's "The Truest Sport - Jousting with Sam and Charlie" -- the best story about war this side of "All Quiet on the Western Front" I've ever had the pleasure to read.

I look forward to checking out the other recommendations.

What do (American) women want? The Stones said it best: Everything in the world you can possibly imagine. What do men want? Seinfeld said it best: Women! We want women!

Women in America have become more independent, obviously-- precisely meaning that they don't need men (as much). But meanwhile, nothing has changed for men that might lessen our dependence on women. Thus, with so many American women professing that marriage is slavery, it would be surprising, in this age of jet air travel, if large numbers of American men were NOT hoping to find wives in foreign countries, where women (some women) are just as glad to find them. Nor is it purely due to the strength of the dollar. Americans of both genders who are less than model-perfect usually find themselves suddenly exotic and strangely irresistible in foreign lands; and it follows that there really is a special chemistry in international marriages (in the ones that succeed, anyway). In how many all-American marriages, after all, are both partners equally thrilled with each other, as opposed to one of them finally settling as middle-age looms? (Be honest.)

Local TV media, around the time of ratings sweeps, used to enjoy teasing prurient "exposes" on "mail-order brides". But when it came time to reveal the salacious details, there would instead be a shockingly ordinary couple who were simply happy they had found each other, full of hope that it will lead to a better life together, perhaps a little bit scared, and definitely self-conscious in front of the glare of the TV lights. I can find no fault wtih such fellow human beings, and suggest that my fellow Salon readers do the same.