I was only 8 when an older man first caught my attention. It was during “The Parent Trap” that I felt an illicit flutter when Dennis Quaid’s Nick Parker reclined, chest hair exposed, while Meredith Blake, played by Elaine Hendrix, sat on his lap, stroking the tuft of hair. Throughout my adolescence, there was a rotating list of older men who caught my eye: George Clooney, Russell Crowe, and my parents’ friend Raúl, whose salt-and-pepper beard made me dizzy. I wanted a man who’d been around long enough to have stories — someone whose confidence I could run my fingers through.
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