The Hitchhiker and the Vampire

At its core, he has fame and tremendous wealth. And she has beauty, youth, and adoration. And maybe something has to do with the flexibility and perkiness that comes with having been a college cheerleader. But is it glib to fall so completely to the stereotypes we know? That the visceral and familiar nature of Bill Belichick with his girlfriend Jordan Hudson is little more than the plight of the sugar daddy and the gold digger?

Do we shut this down and sneer for the same reasons people are apt to ignore someone down-and-on-the-outs in life we see and pass on by? Yes, of course, pay the dollar to that homeless guy, so long as he doesn’t look like he’ll buy cheap whiskey or some hits of heroin with it. Likewise, sure, hold that empathetic, pensive thought for someone blind or in a wheelchair. Then hurry past, so the full gravity of their dire circumstances doesn’t bear on down and crush us — or at least, so it doesn’t spoil the very lovely day we were just having on our way to pick up your Dragon Fruit and Pink Drink order at Starbucks.

Why does such an accomplished coach as Belichick tiptoe so lightly for this youngish, 20-something bobble head? And likewise, why does such a pretty girl just out of college dote and nuzzle and purr for a man who could just as well be her grandfather? It’s these questions that people hurry past — and aren’t enthused to answer. Frankly, because then it becomes about them, us, the very finger-wagging shrews and blokes who chuckle disapprovingly, while being wholly unprepared to take account of our own life’s compass with any kind of scrutiny.

When we get old, we just want back our youth. And yes, keep the money too. And the wisdom, to sidestep all life’s landmines. Hollywood movies have all but harped on it: “Dream a Little Dream,” “Vice Versa,” “17 Again,” “Freaky Friday” — the list of films on this goes on. Or the ones that go back in time or somehow evoke the metaphysical to get revenge or redo those all-too-pivotal fuckups (“Back to the Future,” “Peggy Sue Got Married,” “Wraith,” The Heavenly Kid,” etc…).

At what, 72 (?), Bill Belichick has earned and gotten everything he could possibly want — except now he’s goddam running out of runway. That isn’t an airy, festive thought. It isn’t optimistic. But if there is truth that’s unbespoke, Jesus Christ, this is it! So, maybe this is less of the sugar daddy here and more the time-crossed vampire. The Bram Stoker’s one. The one decrepit, reflective, and quietly desperate to return again to the powerful, passionate, and sensory self he once had been. And her, Jordon Hudson? She embodies that rejuvenating wellspring. She revitalizes a wilting, dusty relic, or at least she’s his best shot at getting all that back. And there’s a sadness in that. One we may each come to face, quietly or screaming — the loss of our former selves we didn’t know to cherish.

And at what, 24 (?), Jordan Hudson has managed to dodge that first of a series of shitty jobs all the rest of us were relegated to slogging through. She luxuriates on yachts and in vacation spots. She posts whimsically on Instagram and TikTok. She signed up as Belichick’s eye candy, the trophy girl, front and center. And she somehow took being young and thin and slightly above-average-looking to being modern-media’s glossy, most highly sought possession (well, maybe Jordan’s not there just quite yet, but she’s working on it!).

So, take a long and scrutinizing look. Otherwise, what for her? Hit the ground with that overpriced degree to do just what — work in that first of a series of shitty jobs we all did? Maybe behind the Starbucks counter making someone else’s Dragon Fruit and Pink Drink order?

Maybe, take a peek deep in that mirror. What choose you, sneering Chad and Karen? Would it be: “Is that a grande or a venti?” Or would you rather tell the eight-time Super Bowl coach — AND a CBS Morning News reporter: “We’re not talking about this!”?

So, we’ll call her what we will. A hitchhiker of life. Or is she the vampire? Jordan Hudson threads the needle the same way Bill Belichick does. They vacillate, occupying both roles simultaneously. She carries youth and beauty. He holds access and money. They’ve met, crossed paths, toting one another, and feeding on what they need along the way.

We look and know, the beauty and exuberance, hers are fleeting commodities. His too. Except what slips from him are the echoes of youth, and time. And those are the ugly, weighty truths to this nauseating, captivating romance that we point fingers toward and giggle at. And we are oh-so entertained, maybe even smugly so. So long as we don’t think too deeply, to cast view on what lies ahead for us, what we see that will surely begin to slip away. In beauty. In youth. And time.

Jason James Barry is an award-winning essayist, journalist, and author. Follow his work on buzzarddigital.com and elsewhere online.