It's Father's Day soon, so this entry is dedicated to Stanley, Carl and myself. And all our peers in our age bracket.
'Cos technically, at this stage of our lives, we're more than qualified to be Daddies.
"I do NOT want to be a daddy!" Carl said with a pout like a petulant kid at dinner who needs a spanking.
"Oooo, I not only want to be a daddy -- I want to be a Zaddy," Stanley said with a sparkle in his eye like somebody who wants a spanking. Hard.
"What's a Zaddy," asked Carl the dense one who has the attention span and will power of bird.
"A sexually attractive man, especially an older one who is fashionable or charismatic," I read out what immediate information Google supplied me.
"You will never imagine how many cute young boys this Zaddy has attracted," said Stanley the sex bunny whom one might argue also has the attention span and will power of a bird.
If we do the math, 46 -- when rounded to the nearest tens -- is 50. So we are old.
Carl refused to look at me when I recited these rules.
But figure wise, at 46, we are in great shape.
Carl who's also a gym rabbit softened his stance and smiled reluctantly, then flexed his python sized biceps to prove my point.
Stanley struck a sultry pose and stared hungrily at a passing waiter, his stance obviously hardening.
The three of us were at Min Jiang, Goodwood Park Hotel, enjoying a dim sum brunch.
I personally love the spread there.
At this moment, Stanley is loving the spread there too.
"Is it me or are all the goodlooking daddies here today?" he said in admiration, his eyes not once looking at Carl and me.
"I guess they don't call this hotel good wood for nothing," he decided.
The daddies around us were indeed cute. They all looked younger than us and still have that fresh-face sheen on them.
"They better enjoy their remaining years now before their youthful good looks are drained by their horny wives and energy sapped by their very noisy kids," Stanley decided.
In his dictionary, all straight men end up looking like rubbish no matter how good looking they once were.
It's to do with vaginal energy in the mix, Stanley said matter of factly.
We daddies on the other hand, thrive as we grow older.
Without the burden of juggling a family and making ends meet, we are therefore financially independent and free of worries.
Carl nodded and said "this dim sum is damn nice."
Stanley's theory is not without truth.
As we grow older, especially gay men, we find ourselves looking better.
Not necessarily because our features suddenly transform but because overall, our package gets an upgrade.
Stanley, who loves all types of talk about package, agrees.
"With more money on hand, we take care of everything -- from head to toe and inside out -- about ourselves.
"This means getting better haircuts, facial care, working out at gyms to sculpt that perfect body and better fashion, consuming supplements and tonic that keep us young and zaddy looking," Stanley explained.
"But what if that gay man doesn't have -- or want to spend -- money on all these things," Carl asked.
"Good point. Then that gay man just becomes an old man. Simple as that."
"That's elitist," Carl decided then spent the rest of his remaining energy on brunch.
"Not really, no," Stanley said.
"It's how much that person is willing to spend on himself -- don't tell me at 46 years old, you can't afford a decent haircut or buy sensible clothes that fit you?"
Carl, who will never make it as a good lawyer in the face of challenges and combative arguments, agreed promptly. "That's true. Even I would treat myself to the occasional spa and facial treatments."
"My facial treatments are mostly free and more than occasional,"Stanley said without missing a beat, then "so yes, back to my point that it's not the money."
And Zaddies are our second lease of life, Stanley added, now sounding like a cult leader.
According to Stanley, there are two main types of gay men. Type One: The naturally goodlooking men who are hot. Type Two: Gay men who are not.
"Look at Adam," he pointed at me just as I was about to eat feed myself some pork congee.
"He's obviously Type Two but he's a Zaddy."
"Why, thank you," I said, happy to be complimented.
Stanley's argument is that based on the laws of nature, no matter how hot Type One gays are, they will lose that bit of shine as they grow older. Type Twos, on the other hand, are never hot to begin with so any minimal effort in trying to look good is seen as a great improvement.
"I take back my thank you," I said coldly.
Channelling my partner J's legal magnificence, I challenged Stanley.
"So, the root of your argument is that Zaddies are basically ugly gay men who are willing to keep up with their appearances. You yourself just said you were a Zaddy. Does that mean you are ugly?"
Rolling his eyes, Stanley would only say "I'm hot now, and that's all that matters."
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