Bitamnum, batamnum, I have nothing against those of you who date people your own age -- some of my best friends have been known to opt for that, and I say if it works for you, bertubet. But my personal preference is to seek out someone who is at least a few years younger, preferably eight to ten years. I know this approach, though hardly novel, will probably result in vast quantities of U-U-tay's and dinQém's. But it's my chosen way, and I walk it with no apologies.

You are probably imagining I'm some graying ababa-ladris going through a mid-life crisis--complete with a failed comb-across (if I'm lucky enough to have luCHa tsegur). Nothing could be further from the truth. I am in my 30s, in the prime of life, proud of where I am now, and looking forward to the future. And that future, if i have my say, will include someone (or ones) young and gorgeous.

I hear your "Wiy, minew! minew!"s as you bemoan my choice (and, indeed, some have). After all, aren't there important issues of compatibility to consider? Wouldn't I rather be with someone who challenges me, who can be a partner as well as a mate, who is there to shoulder half my burden and share my joy? In theory, that's probably true. Also in theory, you can also find someone younger who does challenge you, match you in every way, complete you, fulfill you (are you rolling your eyes, yet?). Teret, teret belu. However, in reality, there are always difficult tradeoffs, and I know what I'm willing to give to get what I want. You may still be unconvinced -- well, I'll try to share some insights with you, and only ask that you keep an open mind…

Let's take work: I take my career very seriously. I studied and worked hard to get to where I am, and I am finally in a position to reap its benefits. Not that I don't think equality is cute and all, but if my mate is as driven as I am, and is someone whose decisions demand equal consideration as mine, well, yeah, maybe it's a concept that could be a joy to behold (and to hold), but endless compromises to accommodate this cuteness have made me question whether it's all even worth the bother. If, to better my career, I am required to move cities or countries, I want to be with someone whose career path is not yet fully paved, and who is flexible, willing and able enough to take that leap with me without the "ay-idilé's", the qim-laced gilmichas, the lemboCH-mezergat, the kurfia, and the tit-for-tat you-owe-me's. I don't want to have to eternally apologize for opportunities lost and fulfillments delayed. This is not to say that youth means flexibility -- after all, there are some people in their 20s well on their way to establishing flourishing careers, but let's face it, they're not my target population -- and to be fair, I'm probably not theirs.

There are other qualities, like deginet, CHewinet, a good personality and sense of humor, that are much touted. But you are as likely to find them in the young as in the not-so-young. And frankly, sometimes they are grossly overrated, don't you think?

Even if, someday, I am still in the US and settle down in those dang-coulda-been-in-Bolé 'burbs, I'd like to think that this flexibility will also mean that, when I have other demands on my time, my children would be picked up, fed, and bathed without too much negotiation, without the endless trail of voicemail messages, cellphone conversations, and efforts to balance his-and-her calendars. Hey, sometimes I even go so far as to dream of home-cooked dulet (is there any other kind?), and a well-tended garden. Does this make me reactionary? Probably -- but I bet many would (albeit secretly) agree.

I know this next part is an unflattering vision to paint, but never shall it be said that I shy away from political incorrectness if it proves my point. I'll admit it, I'll even scream it from the highest roof-tops, I am easily seduced by youth in all of its physical manifestations (mechém CHefCHifachihugn yihonal). There is something very satisfying about being with someone who is young, attractive and energetic. There is no urgency about settling down, no limit to the amount of fun you can have -- hanging out 'till the wee hours of the night, telling each other nonsensical stories that do not have to stand up to the glaring light of intellectual discourse, and dancing 'till you can barely move. There are, of course, other physical delights, but let me not venture too far into crass territory - balegé bitilugnis? There's plenty here already to damn me in some of your eyes - ay kunené. Suffice it to say, being with someone younger brings out the youth in me. I ask you, should anyone pass that up?

Sure, there are some disadvantages to being around someone who may not remember that the Derg is not a rap group, who might never get the fabulous double entendres of Mary Armidé's words, or who might think Boney M is a battle-ship from back in the days of Caribbean piracy. There are certain topics that probably cannot be discussed beyond shallow parroting of what CNN or Jerry Springer had to say about them, if you're lucky. Some of my work colleagues will doubtless find themselves in the awkward position of having to lower the level of their conversations in an effort to be minimally polite. But that's fine, and idmé le-abro adeg, I always have somewhere to go for deep discourse should I thirst for it. I don't need to have that at home -- not when I can have so much more. You still don't believe me? I dare you to try it -- you never know, you might like it.

I won't belabor the point -- ye of little faith may never see it the way I do, but I'm thinking there are a few readers who might be nodding along with me (awo, lijé, I hear them say). I would never have written this but for recent events that convinced me that the world was in on something that I thought was my little secret -- I saw that movie with Angela Bassett and her young man…something about Stella's Groove? You know, that could have been about me. Wait…

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Minew? You look really puzzled.

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Don't tell me you thought I was a guy, now, did you?! Kemir?

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Well, like I said earlier, nothing could be further from the truth.