Is there a shortage of Black men, or are women just too picky? 'Are Black women looking for love in the wrong places?'

I have a college buddy now in his early 40s who still lives with his mother. He burns free drinks and subway tokens from friends, and occasionally lies to women about being a TV producer or a music executive.

That broke Brother that so many Black women say they want to avoid, but always seem to end up with? He's that guy. But here's the irony: He's the most successful dater I know.

He overcompensates for his lack of financial stability with a mastery of the "game." He tells women what they want to hear, and they hear what they want--all the while completely ignoring that hole in his right shoe.

Another friend--tall, good-looking, also early 40s--was dating a Sister he thought was the one. He's a college-educated, world-class musician who chose to be a fireman because saving lives is his higher calling. While he was working his way up in the fire department, she was working her way to the top of a powerful law firm. One day she flatly told him that bringing a fireman to a dinner party would not be an asset as her career advanced. Ironically, after September 11, she called him back and told him he was a hero. It was too late. He's happy dating interracially now, and will soon be chief investigator.

Such stories are indicative of only one of the problems with the argument that eligible Black men are few and far between. For many men like me, the shortage of available Black men is as much a function of Black women's choices as any actual statistics.

Count me among the far too many Black men who are frustrated by this situation. There are legions of guys like me. We are single and working our dreams. We don't have sexy jobs. I own a technology business that makes bar codes. Not exciting to most women: I live modestly. I'm a jeans-and-T-shirt guy. Not because I can't afford more expensive things, but because you don't build a business and a foundation for a family spending money on depreciating assets. And I like atypical things--alternative music, mountain biking, camping, unusual foods, new experiences, new ideas.

In my pursuit of unusual interests, the number of compatible Black women shrinks exponentially. It's not that they don't exist. I'd find more if I wanted to be basic. But I don't. Life's too short. Try saying those things to a woman at a cocktail party and see how many dates you get.

As much as most men will not admit it, we're influenced by the same pop culture movies as women. We dream of bumping into our soul mates on a first-class flight to Paris, too. We just tend to be a bit more realistic about that likelihood. I can't say it's the fault of women entirely. The last 25 years of popular culture and literature have foisted this concept of chasing millionaires upon a whole generation of women.

It has affected men too. The cult of celebrity and the myth of the baller has too many Black men--doctors, lawyers, executives and upstanding middle-class guys--questioning their value and self-worth if their homes are less than 10,000-square-feet. What women see as an increasing lack of willingness to commit is often an insecurity about not getting married before we've made our first million. We drank the Kool-Aid too.

It is so disheartening to hear Black women disparage a generation of Black men based on a few limited experiences. It's the same as corporate employers who, after hiring one or even a few underachieving Black employees, claim they can't find anyone else qualified.

Just as diversity experts advise employers, I would advise Black women to cast a wider net. If you want to find "qualified" Black men, you need to change how you seek, attract and, more importantly, retain those men when you find them.

Still, I will never give up on Black women. I date without limits, but when I commit, I'm looking for a Black woman. If it takes a while, it takes a while. I can hold out. Most Brothers I know feel the same way.

COPYRIGHT 2007 Johnson Publishing Co.
COPYRIGHT 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning