Dan's Papers - June 13, 2008 - The Writerly Life: One on One with Bob Morris

Assisted Loving author Bob Morris talks to Dan's Papers
about life, love and being happy in the Hamptons.

Congratulations on finding love! Do you have any tips for those still searching?

First of all, when I set people up on dates, I demand they try to see each other more than once. We are all so crippled by our opinions that we can't see past them at first glance to what is wonderful about our prospects. And if you do meet someone nice, but maybe not spectacular, calm down. Open your eyes, and little by little, your heart. Love is a decision. You have to decide to be in love. Falling in love is easy - it requires no energy at all. But to be in love and stay in love despite someone's flaws and your own neuroses, that's the trick to building a lasting relationship. As my father once told me, "Stop looking for perfection - it's the only way you'll find it." And let me just say, if the man I have ended up with were looking for perfection, he would have moved me to the recycle bin years ago.

Do you think it's possible to find your soul mate here in the Hamptons, during the area's most "romantic" season of the year?

Call me a cynic. But I don't know that the Hamptons in season is the best place for love. Everybody is in such a keyed-up search-and-destroy mode. The scenery and parties are seductive and romantic, but I think they also put people in a frantic state that makes them impossible to pin down. If I say yes to that dinner party, how do I get to that other cocktail party? What am I missing? What's behind privet hedge number two? I recall many summers in East Hampton as a single gay man being made so anxious by the scene at Two Mile Hollow beach. I mean, have you seen the bodies at that beach? I could never compete with that. I'm not and have never been my ideal gay weight. Who has the time and genetics to look so gorgeous at age 40? No, I think love has a better chance of taking root and blossoming anywhere but a resort area that is all about getting away to be on display. But now that I'm married, I'm happier in the Hamptons.

Your frustration with and affection for your father is wonderfully relatable. Was writing the book somewhat cathartic? Did you find yourself ever laughing out loud while writing?

I cried a little, but I never laughed out loud while writing. But I'll tell you something. Figuring out how to laugh out loud while I was with my father, that was the most important lesson I learned about being a son. It took me until middle age to be able to drop my critical judgments of my old man and see just what a riot he could be. Amusement is better than frustration when it comes to our parents, isn't it? And while I'm on my soapbox, can I add that maybe being right isn't always the most important thing when it comes to family? Maybe the most important thing is being nice.

You refer to the Hamptons several times throughout the book, somewhat wistfully. Do you spend much time in the area? Do you still enjoy the "physical beauty" and "ugly behavior?"

Indeed, I adore the Hamptons. I was a happy house sharer for many years in East Hampton Village, and even a trombone player with the Sag Harbor Community Band. For many summers, my parents would drive over from West Islip, and come hear me play in front of the American Legion in Sag Harbor on Tuesday nights. Can you imagine anything more old-fashioned and charming? That's not to say I ever made the mistake of trying to find contentment or inner peace on the East End, the world's hardest place to make a left turn. And because I'd been a columnist for the Sunday "Styles" section of The New York Times for many of my summers in the Hamptons, I was always looking for material that showed people at their worst. There is nothing like the unhappiness and bad manners of the very privileged when you're a columnist. And like a starfish that kept regenerating arms, there was always a new Hamptons kerfuffle for me to write about. I think my favorite was years ago when Ron Perelman was in the local news for trying to buy the store renting kayaks to people who were annoying him by paddling past his property on Georgica Pond. He did not succeed. Score one for the little lily-dippers!

How does it feel to have finally "arrived" in the Hamptons, for your very own book signing? Is it the kind of success you imagined for yourself while you and your dad were double-dating?

Arrived? What kind of anxious, ambitious New Yorker ever arrives? I'm not a Hamptons homeowner. How can I feel I've arrived? I stay out there these days with wonderful homeowning friends. And that's great, but come on, I haven't arrived - all I can afford is Guesthampton! But, seriously, it's fabulous to have a reading at BookHampton, such a great institution - and to be in Dan's Papers, which I read religiously, is swell, too.

I wish my father were still alive. He would have clipped this interview and circulated it to anybody and everybody. But here's the thing about my Dad - he always thought I'd arrived. He was always proud of me, no matter what I was doing. He made it easy to feel successful. I wonder how many big shots in the Hamptons, with their impressive pedigrees and homes, can claim that?

Join Bob Morris at BookHampton!
Saturday, June 14, 5 p.m.
41 Main Street, East Hampton
631-324-4939