When I entered the world of online dating, I was in my midsixties. My girlfriend, who I had been with for the past five years, told me she needed some space. Previously, I had been married for nearly thirty years, and those two relationships were the sum of my dating experiences.

At the time I was writing a book with a woman who was a veteran of online dating, and she made a good case for me to join. My initial reaction was to refuse. I had read numerous online profiles and thought they were painfully unoriginal, unimaginably boastful, and made men of my generation sound, excuse my French, full of shit!

I finally relented when I told my friend I’d join if I could write a profile that best represented who I really was. I came up with a set of outrageous but tongue-in-cheek demands and welcomed any woman who could meet them. When my friend gave her approval, I took a chance and joined my first, and only, online dating site.

My profile drew rave reviews. Immediately, I began to receive numerous messages. I eventually corresponded with hundreds of women. Dated quite a few. Many became friends and confidants. I became privy to their stories of love and agony. Male friends also began sharing their experiences, recalled their successes and failures, and relayed their own cautionary tales..

I can say with great certainty—I know your pain. Let me say it again…I know your pain! The pain that comes from disappointment, disappointment that, amazing as it may be, the person you’ve finally met is not the person of your dreams but the screaming harridan of your nightmares!

How about the feelings of regret when, after hearing their sweet voice on the phone, you discover they recently bench-pressed five hundred pounds at Gold’s Gym?

Or, if he wrote he was your age; he shows you a family album featuring a photo of him and Babe Ruth?

Oh right! She bragged about how thin she was, so how come she had to turn sideways to come through the door?

She swore over and over that she was a one-man gal, so how come she couldn’t keep her eyes off every guy who came into Starbucks?

Speaking of Starbucks, have you ever seen anyone rip open ten packs of raw sugar with his or her teeth, suddenly pour them into his or her coffee because he or she says, “You need to put a little zing into your thing.”

I can go on and on, but despite all the stories of angst you would think belong in Ripley’s Believe It or Not, I came to the realization the words of Ella Wheeler Wilcox would serve as my guide to surviving the perils of online dating:

To accomplish this, I came up with a personal list of Dos and Don’ts that immediately put a smile on my face; even forced a few giggles when dating got particularly difficult due to my own insecurities, lack of common sense, and overactive libido.

It is my desire that in sharing this list I’ll be able to put the same smiles on your face, prompt you into a few guffaws as you take up the daunting task of first filling out your profile, then perusing those who make you want to jump up and sing “Sweet Sue,” and finally—dealing with the messages of love and desire that fly back and forth from your heated inbox to theirs.

To help me accomplish this, I have enlisted a group of online vets to share their stories and e-mails and plucked pertinent postings I have personally received or spotted during my years of online dating to provide additional color, wisdom, and even more laughter.

Finally, I have included poetic sayings and movie quotes about love that should remind us never to lose sight of what’s really at the heart of this book.

My advice, stories, and interviews are often over the top. Believe me, if I could have found another way to amuse you that did not resort to exaggeration, while at the same time limit my intake of Chianti Classico, I would have done it!

I leave you with the thought that laughter got me through the experience of online dating, with mind, body, and a sense of humor, still intact. Just as important, it left me with the impression that even at our tender age, love and romance is still possible for my fellow baby boomers.