Yes, Again:(Mis)adventures of a Wishful Thinker by Sallie H. Weissinger Book Guest Review, Excerpt and Giveaway!

Yes, Again:(Mis)adventures of a Wishful Thinker by Sallie H. Weissinger Publisher:  She Writes Press, (October 26, 2021) 

Category: Memoir, Grief, Loss, Romance, Dating 

Tour dates: October-November, 2021 

ISBN: 978-1647423155 Available in Print and ebook, 224 pages

 

Description Yes, Again by Sallie H. Weissinger

In this laughter-through-tears memoir, Sallie H. Weissinger, a late-in-life widow, recounts the highs and lows of navigating the tricky online dating world of the 2000s. Interwoven throughout her adventures in search of a new relationship are stories from her childhood as a military brat, her southern heritage, her various marriages, and the volunteer work in Central and South America that helped her keep moving forward through it all. Weissinger keeps her sense of humor as she meets men who lie, men who try to extort money, and men with unsavory pasts. When she experiences even more loss, her search for a partner becomes less important, but—with the help of friends and dogs—she perseveres and, ultimately, develops her own approach to meeting “HIM.” Blending the deeply serious and the lighthearted, Yes Again shows us that good things happen when we open up our minds and hearts.

Excerpt Yes, Again by Sallie H. Weissinger

Introductory comments/ Context:  My husband, Matt, had died fourteen years earlier.  A year or two after his death, in my late fifties, I began doing the online personals.  After a decade or more, I hadn't made progress in finding "HIM." It was time to change the nature of my search and do something drastically different, but what?  Conflicting voices in my head dominated my internal conversation about what course to take. Sweet Pea, my optimistic voice (and the nickname I called my lively, zany mother), told me to go for it, to be fearless. My critical voice, Steve (named for my logical, ever-practical father, Steve), told me to be realistic.  I could hear him telling me not to be ridiculous.  While my opposing voices aren't exactly my parents' voices, they contain the essence of them. ############################################### Page 35 starts here: I faced three choices: dump my search entirely, ramp it down, or change the way I was searching. Quitting for good wasn’t acceptable, given my hard wiring. Call me hard‐headed (Steve: “And stubborn and impractical.” Sweet Pea: “Yet delightfully optimistic.”) or unreasonable (Steve: “And half‐baked and illogical.” Sweet Pea: “Hey. Her head is screwed on straight.”). But I’ve finally learned that disappointments are often temporary. Hadn’t I seen how narrow a thread could turn into a lifeline? If the postage rates hadn’t increased by two cents back in 1978, and if Matt hadn’t sent me his only photo of him and his dog, and if I hadn’t loved dogs enough to return the photo to a man I had relegated to the MAYBE pile, my life would have taken a different turn. Why couldn’t there be another slender thread?  So, after each disappointment, I let myself have a brief respite to bounce back, and then I kept going. Maybe if I invested less emotional energy, I wouldn’t feel as discouraged. (Steve: “A ramped‐down approach is quitting halfway.” Sweet Pea: “But she keeps going. Remember when she learned to ski?”) I’m from the give‐it‐your‐all school. When I learned to ski in my early twenties, I fell countless times as my long skis crossed and recrossed. Over and over, I removed my skis, scrambled back up, and reattached them to my boots, by myself since my friends had headed for the advanced slopes. One particular day I fell off the T‐bar twice, to the scornful looks of even the bunny‐slope beginners. Later that afternoon, I caught my skis in the tow rope, forcing the attendant to stop the entire operation. I waited twenty minutes to get back in line, hoping those who had witnessed my embarrassing mishap had moved

1. This time I succeeded. I got back on and let go of the tow

rope without falling. By the end of the week, I had become a low‐level intermediate skier, able to navigate the T‐bar, tow rope, and chairlift without tumbles and falls. This same determination helped me raise my daughter post‐divorce, initially without child support, and ultimately enabled me to risk leaving a job with benefits but minimal future potential and accept a short‐term hourly position with career pos‐ sibilities. My DNA pointed me toward the third choice, changing my approach, though I didn’t know how to go about it. I thought about my former professional turn as a recruiter. In 1981, after four years as a vocational rehabilitation counselor, I was offered a job as midnight shift interviewer at the Federal Reserve Bank of San Francisco. It was a six‐month contract, with no assurance of continued work. I was frightened to quit a job with health benefits and gamble on an iffy chance for career advancement, but even more frightened not to. Matt made it easy. Without a second’s thought, he put his arms on my shoulders and said, using his pet name for me, “Sarah, you go in there and beat Notre Dame.” I didn’t know what beating Notre Dame had to do with accepting the job (maybe if he’d said “win one for the Gipper”), but I knew he was telling me to go for it. I took the temporary job, and, when the six months ended, I was hired as a regular employee and eventually became regional vice president of human resources and public affairs. I had to learn the language of economists, bank regulators, financial ana‐ lysts, and banking operations officers. Regardless of the positions I held, however, in my core I was always a recruiter, working to find the right person for the right spot for the organization. At the Federal Reserve, when a department had an open‐ ing, I gathered as much information from the hiring manager as I could to scope out the department’s staffing needs. I asked questions about the skill set the successful applicant should have. I decided to apply my recruiting experience to dating. And so, on a spring morning in March 2016, I sat at my desk with a cup of coffee and a blank sheet of paper while my two rescue mutts competed for my attention. As I patted their heads and scratched them behind the ears, I completed step one of my personalized recruiting process, the job description. I listed the attributes I wanted in a life partner.

• Emotionally stable, Economically stable
• Spiritual
• Religious (not or not very)
• Adventurous, Active, Animal friendly, Aging gently
• Physically fit, Politically liberal
• Monkey business
• Travel aficionado
• Intelligent, Intellectual

An addicted daily Jumble practitioner of long standing, I was instantaneously aware of four almost‐perfect anagrams popping out from the first letter of each attribute: AIMSTAR (no E or P) MATEPAIR (no S) MASERATI (no P), and PASTRAMI (no E) AIMSTAR was good. It conveyed a sense of focus and direction, as well as astral luminosity, but it sounded like the name of a cell phone company in Central America. MATEPAIR seemed pedestrian, although relevant to a personals search. I’m not big on cars and most especially not fancy cars, so MASERATI was out. PASTRAMI tickled my funny bone. I broke out into a smile and kept smiling. PASTRAMI was juicy, appealing, and lighthearted, even to a quasi‐vegetarian. And, best of all, it was silly.

Review Yes, Again by Sallie H. Weissinger

Guest Review by Laura Lee 

 I laughed out loud while reading this book more times than I could count! Sallie H. Weissinger has a talent for finding the humor in frustrating situations and putting together a narrative that leaves you hooked. Here's the basics of this memoir from someone who absolutely loved it: Weissinger was in her 30's, recently divorced and raising a young daughter when she became so fed up with her situation that she decided to run a singles ad in her local newspaper so that she might find someone to share her life with. This was in 1978, when those singles ads were the equivalent of online dating. But from this ad, Weissinger met Matt, a man that she initially filed into the “maybe” column for dating but decided to go out with him at least once, if only to return the picture of himself and his dog that he had sent her in his letter. She and Matt hit it off big time and began a 24-year relationship that only ended when he passed away of cancer in 2002. After the loss of her husband, Weissinger was bereft and unsure of what to do next. After a while, she finally realized that she wanted to meet someone new. But, like I said earlier, if you want to meet someone these days, online dating is key. Through the narrative and with the help of the positive and negative voices in her head that she joking refers to as Steve and Sweet Pea, Weissinger relates the trials and tribulations of online dating and the ultimate quest to find her happily ever after. This memoir was both hilarious and touching and one that I found myself completely enveloped in as I was reading. Weissinger is a great writer and so likable. This was a great read, and a great reminder that there is always time left to find that special someone.

About Sallie H. Weissinger

 

(c) COURTNEY FLAVIN

 Sallie H. Weissinger is a native of New Orleans and was raised as a military brat away from the South (Germany, New Mexico, Ohio, Japan, and Michigan). Every summer, she and her family returned to visit her mother’s relatives in New Orleans and her father's family in a small Alabama town. She has lived most of her life in the Bay Area and also in New Orleans. These days, “home" includes not only New Orleans and Berkeley, but also Portland, Oregon, where she lives most of the time with her husband, Bart McMullan, a retired internal medicine doctor and health care executive, and their three dogs. A retired executive herself, she now teaches Spanish and does medical interpreting for non-profit organizations in Central America and the Dominican Republic. Weissinger is a passionate member of the Berkeley Rotary Club and has served on the boards of Berkeley Rotary, the Aurora Theatre in Berkeley, and the East Bay (formerly Oakland) SPCA. Website: https://www.yesagainmemoir.com/

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