To a chorus of infant cries, I drafted this column at 1:00 a.m. Of course, it was 3:00 p.m. in Tokyo, so I suppose it wasn't so late after all.

The whole experience of birthing seems to be a very traumatic way to build a family. Fortunately, it did lead to two very happy results. It gave me a new daughter, Lauralee, Little Sister. And it taught me some valuable lessons, which it is my patriotic duty to share with you.

The first lesson – all men, take note – is that my wife is my hero.

As husband, I experienced whole birthing outburst second-hand. After careful observation, I conclude that this is best way to experience it. (Apparently I had some first-hand experience over 40 years ago, but I can't remember too many details.)

Most husbands suffer great humiliation during childbirth. Wives hurl razor-sharp insults like "I hate you!" and "You fink!" and "You did this to me!" and "I HATE YOU!!!" My wife, truly original even in pure agony, didn't use any of those words. In fact, she didn't say a thing. Instead, she threw up on me.

Of course, I don't hold throwing up against her. The second lesson I wish to share with you is importance of forgiving people who act in haste, in anger, or in excruciating pain from pushing a six-inch wide baby through a one-inch wide hole in their bodies.

Let me tell you a story. For years I went to bars, festivals and other meetings, and it wasn't always for beer or music. To be honest, many times I was mainly looking for a girl friend, for a woman to spend rest of my life with. I had my share of dates, don't worry: Frankenstein was not my father, some ladies even consider me handsome. But in end I was still living on my own, and slept in a bed that was always too big.

Life changed when I bought a modem and went on Internet. Initially my connection wasn't meant for a ride on electronic highway to love - remember: I am a music fan - but it lasted only a few days before I first visited a dating site. Within seconds, thousands of women entered my cramped living room, and after a little surfin' around I wrote a girl that called herself Pearlemma. I hope it was not her real name.

Only 24 hours later Pearlemma wrote me back. We exchanged up to six letters. Then it became clear she was only interested in having a chat once in a while. I knew type - from bars, festivals and other meetings. My next stop was FriendFinder, one of oldest and best known dating sites. I found a lady with whom I shared some hobbies and interests, but I soon had enough when she sent me her picture.

Online dating finally became serious when I put my ad on a site called Soulmates or something like that. I got a few replies, wrote back, got more replies, wrote back again, made a selection, wrote more, met her. Love, romance, you got it, and I got it. And then we split up. These things happen, not only in virtual world. But at least I knew, online dating could work.

So when I had come to terms with emotional damage, I put another ad, and this time it was really bingo time. Over one hundred replies. And you know what? I'm happily married now, for over eighteen months, with a lady who used to live on other side of world.

Why am I telling you all this? Because I truly believe online dating works. And even better than real world dating. First of all, there's choice. Second, there's comfort. On net, you can meet thousands of potential partners and still stay at home. Your choice is incredible: as long as you speak a few words of English, you can communicate with almost whole world. And even when you only speak your native tongue (if not English) then you can still reach more people than you will ever be able to meet in a bar. You can write at daytime, at your work, during one of these dull and lonely evenings, in middle of night when bed's too big again. Doesn't matter: you can choose time and place yourself.