REPORTER’S NOTEBOOK:

Love was all around this week, as the song goes. I felt it in my fingers, I felt it in my toes.

Valentine’s Day tends to bring out the romantic and sentimental in a lot of us, and I have to admit I’m smitten.

Smitten. That’s an old-fashioned word you don’t hear too much of anymore, but it’s really appropriate here, because the objects of my affection are the debonair, charming, funny, well-spoken, intelligent and attentive 80-year-old and older men I have had the good fortune to meet as a Daily Pilot reporter.

Oh, I know I’m supposed to practice objective journalism and all that, but I’m sorry, this girl just couldn’t help herself.

I’m single, and the latest adventure in my life is this whole online dating phenomenon. You guessed it, I’m on Match.com. Reading profiles, looking at pictures and wondering what on Earth this world has come to.

I’m not sure some of these guys have a clue who they are, where they’ve been or what they want. I think that’s what separates those “boys” from the men I’ve met.

I had lunch on the patio deck at Newport Landing last week with Jim Gagne, who told me stories about his days as a World War II vet on Iwo Jima.

He also told me about all the times he took Jake, his black standard poodle, to some bar around the corner from Newport Landing, where the dog sat on a stool and drank beer out of an ashtray.

It was a beautiful, sunny day, I laughed like crazy, and I wished he were on Match.com. I’m kidding. He’s a very happily married man, and I’m no Jezebel.

Newport Beach firefighter Milton Meehan told me the story of how he spent the night guarding the remains of the Vincent Lido Drugstore after it burned in the ’60s.

Milton’s fellow firefighter was walking around inspecting the store when he came across a bottle of self-tanning lotion and decided to try some. It was dark, the guy wasn’t sure it was working, so he kept applying it, and when the back-up team came to relieve them in the morning, Milton’s friend was glow-in-the-dark orange and didn’t report to work for three days.

I laughed so hard I almost fell out of my office chair. Milton’s got a natural gift for story telling.

Allan Fainbarg, 85, recalled every detail of the journey he made as a 17-year-old Sea Scout. He had a banker box full of memories I urged him to have someone document, put down on paper, preserve.

What about the men today? What memories will they be able to share 20 or 30 years from now? We’re a workaholic, merry-go-round society, fast-paced, competitive and moving onward and upward, constantly reaching for the brass ring.

I met my friend Charles Lamb (and we really are friends, I think) when I covered Emma Louise Watkins’ 100th birthday party a few months back.

I think Charles sounds kind of like Jimmy Stewart, and he’s one of those guys who listens when you talk, makes you feel like what you’re saying is important, and he’s complimentary and sincere.

He also has a girlfriend, I found out. A 59-year-old girlfriend. See, I’m not the only one who knows how special these guys are.

I asked Charles about what sets his generation apart from the men of today.

“Well, we’ve had a much longer time in this world to accumulate experiences, time to put stuff in your biography,” he said.

“Some of these men have never been out of a job, or been to war.”

Charles said he also thinks men had a lot more respect for the women in their life, and relationships weren’t as casual as they seem to be today. I told him about the whole Match.com thing, and he told me not to lose heart.

“You would be a catch,” this wonderful man told me.

Thanks, Charles. Thanks to all you guys who gave so much in so many ways, and for letting me share a little bit of that with the rest of the world.

Look out, though. I’m having lunch with Howard on Monday, and he just celebrated his 90th.

SUE THOENSEN may be reached at (714) 966-4627 or at [email protected].