Mathematics After The Fall

I just finished watching my TiVo recording of the Thursday finale of Dancing with the Stars, one of my favorite shows. This should not surprise any of my readers. I enjoy dancing, take lessons from time to time, and wish I had more time to practice. As for the show, it doesn’t involve murders or doctors or lawyers or bug eating, which makes it different than most of television. The contestants aren’t looking for a million dollars, or a job, or a proposal, just a trophy, which is gently old-fashioned. There’s plenty of elegance, band music, costumes with color, and attractive women, which all make it pleasant. Yet that’s not enough. I didn’t pick favorite dances (I like the tango, foxtrot, and rumba, and generally prefer ballroom to Latin) and replay the show just because they’re pretty. I do it because they’re at times Beautiful.

Beauty is more than physical attractiveness. It’s more than the James Blunt model of constant repetition, though I suspect that relentless repetition of that fact would help a lot of people. (What an interesting song that is, about lust, crush, and heartbreak.) Now, it’s Sunday night, I’m watching the finale on TiVo now, and it’s wonderful to listen to the competitors. They’re not screaming at each other. They’re respecting each other. It is “celebrating three finalists”, as the host says. I’ll turn on the pseudo-live blog:

• Jerry danced his best performance in the cha-cha, a good choice, with much improved footwork. Nines are right, given the difference in difficulty between him and Stacy and Drew.
• Stacy danced a marvelous samba, a great choice, and deserved the three tens. I’ve watched professional partnerships do worse.
• Drew danced an excellent jive, but it’s not his best dance and the nines were about right. That does give Drew and Cheryl just enough to finish first with the judges.
• Mary J Blige’s song is slow, which changes the nature of the salsa. It’s patient, flowing, unhurried, and marvelous. The dancers are beautiful, in an exhibition and presentation way. They don’t have the violent intimacy of the Giant Hug, though. Maybe it’s asking for too much.
• I suspect Jerry and Anna finished first in viewer votes, then Drew and Cheryl, then Stacy and Tony. That would be consistent. That means Stacy and Tony would leave now. And that’s what happened. Stacy had a 2nd, and must have a viewer 3rd, for a 2nd would eliminate someone else. Therefore, Jerry must have a viewer 1st, to go with his judge 3rd. That means Drew has a judge 1st and a viewer 2nd, meaning he’ll win.
• Stacy sniffles, and there’s no shame in that. Never has been.
• The other dancers were nice. Mary J Blige can carry a song by herself, unless many singing artists today; I hadn’t heard her live before.
• This show is 30 minutes too long. I skip through a bit without comment. The champions are … Drew and Cheryl, of course. Once in a while I wish I didn’t understand math, because the surprise was gone. But it’s a happy ending.

The result was just. Jerry really was the fourth best dancer, after Stacy, Drew, and Lisa (in that order), but his football fanbase drove him through. Stacy has more talent than Drew, but Drew performed better, and Cheryl’s choreography was better than Tony’s. And a lot of votes have gone Drew’s way, since he’s handsome, and females watch dancing and vote more than men. I do understand not watching, somewhat, though as the Super Bowl commercials showed, there are hot women in revealing costumes. I don’t understand why men don’t like the intimate touch of dancing, and why anyone ever watches fishing, but nobody ever said I was all-knowing. Anyway, good dancing can become an example of Beauty, which is why I appreciate the attempt.

Another Valentine’s Day has come and gone, and I’m still single. Why does this matter? It’s not because of the day itself, driven by corporate marketing. As a side note, for V-Day itself, I suggest the Anti-Valentine cards, and the Daily Show segment about The War on St. Valentine’s Day. Can I be single and happy and joyful? It’s a serious question. Well, yes, of course I could, but it’s going to become a lot more difficult, and soon. To describe the problem, I’ll tell the tale of the fourth best friend. What is the fourth best friend? What is that relationship? I hope everyone has a fourth best friend, because it means everyone has at least four friends. (As a side note, I was reading about job interviews last weekend. One practice question was “Who is your best friend, and how would you describe your friendship?” The book noted that many people can’t answer that question. Also, it strongly suggested the employer contact that person as a reference.)

The fourth best friend can arise from one of several places: a coworker, a neighbor, a sports coach, a religious community. Fourth friends have the qualities of Friends that I’ve listed before: Activity, Values, Trust, Power Equality. At least in part. But the fourth friend is a little different. The values might be a little off - I’m a progressive Catholic, you’re a traditionalist. Or there might not have developed full, intimate trust, not because of any flaws, but perhaps because of a lack of opportunity or need. Those might occur, but mostly it’s a lack of activity. The fourth best friend isn’t first, second, or third because he’s not there as often. Why not? Certain roles prove higher. A spouse comes first - well, in a decent marriage, at least third. A close same-sex friend, first or second, will share lots of interests. Gender matters because it’s a chance to talk about Proximity helps; neighbors often become close friends because they’re available to watch the house, help with the party, look after the kids. Friendships, like all relationships, need time to develop.

Dating couples form friendships with other dating couples. Married people form friendships with other married people. They have more in common. It gets frustrating for non-attached folks like me, particularly when old relationships are jettisoned. I invented the term “couples vortex” to explain the common scenario where someone I knew started dating. He disappeared for months, then was only seen with his girlfriend. Since he was lost for so long, it had to be some weird physics thing. Of course, this was unproven hyperbole. I think. Yet it makes sense under Friendship Theory. Couples have more in common with other couples, even while dating. Married people have joint taxes, suburban houses, and children, things that never-married singles generally don’t touch. Pairs prefer pairs.

The couples preference extends throughout society. Since a majority of adults are married, the tax code provides substantial benefits, even for couples without children. Universities offer jobs to spouses of desired candidates, as documented in places like the Chronicle of Higher Education. I guess it’s a skill to seduce and marry a strong academic, as much as teaching or research. Language even conspires against the single person. Look at the meaning of “odd” - strange and different - versus “even” - smooth, balanced, regular. Couples are even. Singles are odd.

This oddness makes single life hard. An active unmarried person can make plenty of friends through work and neighborhood and activities. Nevertheless, without the shared environment of marriage and family, they tend to become fourth and fifth best friends. It’s hard to form a support network with fourth best friends, and it leaves a large intimacy gap. Right now, graduate school is an environment with a fairly large amount of charming, wonderful unattached people. There aren’t many places like graduate school, particularly for a religious person. When I leave here this year, it will get substantially more difficult to form the support network that I, and everyone else, need. Like there wasn’t pressure enough, eh?