The February Blogroll on Love vs. Romance is reflecting more opinions than a poll for the best Superbowl commercial (I’m a softie for the Clydesdales). But for the most part, Love is ahead in the count. If this were a tennis match, Love would be at Game Point and Romance would have Love. Funny, that’s how it’s worked out for me, too.
We’ve heard from Ralph Pines, Razib Ahmed, Kat Frass, and Benjamin Solah. I’d like to turn from Benjamin’s political perspective toward more personal politics. Then we’ll be off to Scribbletown to see what’s happening there.
Anything But Tuna
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Nope. I think it’s fine if you choose to shave your legs only in months containing an ‘R.’ Pull up your socks and nobody will notice.”
Bill threw a wool jacket over one arm to have ready in case my hot flashes wore off before we got home. A man who overlooks legs that would choke a weedeater and remembers to bring along an overcoat when the temperature is topping 70. Who says romance is dead? All the same, for my fiftieth birthday, I’m hoping someone will give me a working thermostat.
Romance when I was 20 meant heels, hose, a revealing dress, and a delicious dinner with a date fueled by hormones. These days I keep my hormones in a bottle, and wearing heels means a good chance of spending the evening in the not-so-cheap seats in the Emergency Room draped in a hospital gown that reveals more than any dress I ever owned. I don’t consider it a date if I have to pay the deductible on my health insurance.
I’ve known Bill Dear since he was married to the Tuna Casserole Maker and I was married to the Salesman. That was back before home computers, but right after hand-held calculators became such a hit. Having already surfed the Marital Blissless superhighway with a sweet talker, I was suspicious of Romance, a slippery devil I couldn’t count on when the going got tough or long division was involved.
But these days I recognize Romance for what it is when it grows up: Love in action. So Bill doesn’t try to sell me on the idea of an electric razor for the Mohawk on my shins. And I feed him pot roast. Or barbecued ribs.
Anything but tuna.
Remaining Blogroll:
escritora
ChaosTitan
Cathy C
harri3tspy
truelyana
tatkinson
We’ve heard from Ralph Pines, Razib Ahmed, Kat Frass, and Benjamin Solah. I’d like to turn from Benjamin’s political perspective toward more personal politics. Then we’ll be off to Scribbletown to see what’s happening there.
Anything But Tuna
“It doesn’t bother you?”
“Nope. I think it’s fine if you choose to shave your legs only in months containing an ‘R.’ Pull up your socks and nobody will notice.”
Bill threw a wool jacket over one arm to have ready in case my hot flashes wore off before we got home. A man who overlooks legs that would choke a weedeater and remembers to bring along an overcoat when the temperature is topping 70. Who says romance is dead? All the same, for my fiftieth birthday, I’m hoping someone will give me a working thermostat.
Romance when I was 20 meant heels, hose, a revealing dress, and a delicious dinner with a date fueled by hormones. These days I keep my hormones in a bottle, and wearing heels means a good chance of spending the evening in the not-so-cheap seats in the Emergency Room draped in a hospital gown that reveals more than any dress I ever owned. I don’t consider it a date if I have to pay the deductible on my health insurance.
I’ve known Bill Dear since he was married to the Tuna Casserole Maker and I was married to the Salesman. That was back before home computers, but right after hand-held calculators became such a hit. Having already surfed the Marital Blissless superhighway with a sweet talker, I was suspicious of Romance, a slippery devil I couldn’t count on when the going got tough or long division was involved.
But these days I recognize Romance for what it is when it grows up: Love in action. So Bill doesn’t try to sell me on the idea of an electric razor for the Mohawk on my shins. And I feed him pot roast. Or barbecued ribs.
Anything but tuna.
Remaining Blogroll:
escritora
ChaosTitan
Cathy C
harri3tspy
truelyana
tatkinson
10 comments:
Interesting take on it. Never thought about it that way.
Whew, that's gonna be hard to follow! I'm not feeling much love or romance these days. Guess I better get to work!
Ha! Great post. Although I may have to rethink my lunch plans. That tuna salad is not sounding so good all of a sudden.
What a GREAT post!! Such fun. And I love your take romance and love. That Bill definitely sounds like a keeper. :-) Anyone who can overlook hairy legs is tops in my book!! LOL
I enjoyed your post a lot and it surely made me to respect my wife even more than past. I am totally spoiled when it comes to eating habits. My wife is from another country and she hardly ate any spice before marrying me. After getting married to me, she had to cook and eat spicy foods just for me. I am happy that I have improved a lot too.
Haily legs or gainiing weight were never a problem with me. Just, it was spicy foods.
Great sense of humor--this post made me laugh out loud. : ) Sounds like you have a wonderful husband--and you know it!
Sorry I didn't get to comment sooner.
That's a nice post. I think it really shows love, you know as in loving you for who you are and not what society expects.
Thanks everybody for joining me as I explore romance in the "middle ages." Stay tuned to the AW Blogrolls for lots of interesting and thought-provoking stuff!
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