Archive for February, 2011
Isn’t It Romantic?
Yes, friends, it is Valentine’s Day. I am in the camp that you shouldn’t need a special day to express such a thing but what the heck. It is what it is. And, more important, it is what you make of it.
Here’s my tip to the guys out there. A simple sincere expression means a lot more than two weeks of grumbling followed by . . . well, anything. And, if you are in a relationship that “requires” you to cough up diamonds on Valentine’s Day, well, you know, if ya ask me, it’s not the holiday that’s stupid.
As a single woman who genuinely likes men as well as dive bars and watching football; who knows how to put the seat down if it’s up without having a fainting spell; who has never understood the desire to drag a man to the mall (nor understood a man’s willingness to do so); who doesn’t care what kind of car you drive or what your job title is; who can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan dressed like a naughty secretary, I just can’t feel a whole lot of pity for guys who whine about being in a relationship with some gold-digging, annoying, unaffectionate witch.
Some days, I wonder where people get their bad ideas about love. Other times, like today, clues appear. On the way to work, a local radio station was running a contest. Who can name the movie selected as the number one most romantic movie of all time on the blah-blah list of yada-yada. The answer: Gone With the Wind.
hmmmm
Guy falls for girl he barely knows. Girl treats guy like dirt while pining over somebody else’s husband. Girl finally gets desperate enough to need guy and marries him but withholds marital affections and continues to treat him like dirt. He finally grows a pair and walks out.
Uh, yeah. Gone With the Wind is an epic story and a cinematic feat, yes, but the number one romance? Where did they do their polling, outside of a marriage counselor’s office?
Now I don’t claim that real romance should or could ever be measured by movie romance, but c’mon people. Surely, we can aspire to do better than the trainwreck that was Rhett and Scarlett.
For example:
Moonstruck
The Philadelphia Story
L.A. Story
Desk Set
Princess Bride
It Happened One Night
A Walk in the Clouds
Moulin Rouge
The Wedding Singer
Roxanne
Boy, that was easy. Here are ten more.
Brigadoon
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
When Harry Met Sally
The African Queen
Shakespeare in Love
To Catch a Thief
The Sound of Music
Emma
An Officer and a Gentleman
The Goodbye Girl
Feel free to add some of your own to this list in the Comments section.
But.
I beg you.
Don’t say An Affair to Remember ’cause that would make me laugh so hard I might get distracted and step into traffic and then we’d never see each other again because my opinion of you—love of my life!—is that you are very handsome but you are shallow and hate cripples.
The Grin in Chagrin
The NFL football season ended last night. I, like all of Steeler Nation, feel bad.
But. I don’t feel that bad.
I haven’t screamed. I’ve barely pouted. Until 7:35 this morning, I had not shed a tear.
I don’t feel that bad. And that baffles me.
I suspected, at first, a scenario in which I am in a coma, last night was an IV-induced dream, and Rocky Bleier is my doctor.
But. At work, fully clothed, unable to fly, pinched myself. I’m awake.
It’s real, eh?
Well, maybe I don’t feel that bad because I got to have a lot of fun this season. Having attended only two Steeler games in my life (both losses), this year I got to attend two more: the opener and the AFC Championship game. And, despite a temperature difference of about 70 degrees, I had a similarly exhilirating, palpitating, voice-losing, Towel-twirling, high-fiving-the-nephew, brought-home-a-winner blast at both.
Or maybe I can’t feel pain because my endorphin levels are still so high from the game of January 15. Could a win last night possibly have felt any better than the night we beat the Ravens? I wonder.
Then again, maybe I don’t feel horrible because the Packers are a team that’s hard to hate. Small market, storied history, fans who know the game—I’ve always felt the affinity. (Losing to Dallas in XXX was worse. So much worse.)
Look, I’m not saying I’m turning cartwheels (or would be turning cartwheels if I could do a cartwheel). But. I’m okay. Which is weird.
I was pondering thusly, in my car, coming up on 7:35 a.m., as I crossed the West End Bridge and veered right, onto the ramp to 65. And with the car aiming North, there—in a wee trickle of rare February morning light—sat Heinz Field. And I reached for my Steelers scarf like Linus Van Pelt.
Last night, I believed. Not wished. Not hoped. But believed the Steelers were going to win the Super Bowl. Even though (or, actually, because) the odds makers called them underdogs. Even after nearly all the talking-heads picked the green and gold. (Good on ya, Terry B.) Even after Pouncey finally, most definitely, had to sit out. Even after 58 minutes and 1 second of losing. I believed.
How is that possible? I’m a devout lapsed Optimist.
Think for a moment about how this season started. After last year? With Santonio gone and Ben suspended? With some rookie at center? Remember that? Yeah. Now, think about how you’ve felt for the past few weeks. How you felt going into last night’s game.
This year was extraordinary. This year was a transformation. This year surprised. And it wasn’t us. It wasn’t the media. It wasn’t Goodell. It wasn’t luck or juju or even our beloved Myron or the Rooney tradition or some dynasty magic.
This year was extraordinary because of that group of men on the field last night. The Steelers 2010 squad. Players and coaches. Good guys and “bad” guys and even a kinda skeevy guy (who I want to believe has changed but, bottom line, either way, is still an incomparable quarterback). Quiet guys and crazy guys. Big guys, tall guys, fast guys, and small guys. Veterans and rookies. This happy few. They made us believe. They overcame the obstacles. They played through the tendon-tearing, ankle-twisting, gut-wrenching, heart-breaking injuries. They stepped in and stepped up. They unselfishly supported each other. They kept their cool right next to their swag. They played with heart. And talent. They gave us an amazing season. They made it to the Super Bowl and let us come along for what was a wild and wonderful ride.
Maybe I don’t feel that bad because pride trumps disappointment.
But maybe they do feel that bad. And so I say, Gents: Chin up. Stand tall. You had a great year. Thank you for being one of my favorite life preservers. And thank you for making me proud to be a Steeler fan every day—even today.
What was your favorite thing about the 2010 Steelers?
Life Preservers 
Snow Is Stupid
Sitting on that road for nearly an hour = Stupid!
Sitting on that road for nearly two hours = Stupid!
Me deciding to make the right turn onto that road (instead of going my normal route) last night = So Stupid!
Stringing the jumper cables between a vehicle in the northbound lane and a vehicle in the southbound lane to effectively block traffic in both directions instead of pulling off to the side of that road = You’ve-Got-to-Be-Kidding-Me Stupid!
Running in the car lane on that road last night = Amazingly Stupid!
(Note: I don’t think this person was actually jogging but what the heck was she doing?)
Jumping out of your slid-to-the-side car on that road and standing with your back to traffic completely unaware that a less experienced driver than me who had less than my brand-new tires would not have been able to avoid running you over = Stupid.
Cutting in front of me from the left-hand turn lane to turn onto that road and then immediately making an unbelievable clusterf*ckian U-turn in the midst of complete and utter gridlock with no turning radius = You smart bastard.
Announcing on the radio at 4:10 p.m. (with traffic already at a dead stop) that there might be some snow in the area later = Stupid!
Running commercials about how great and amazing and vital your Awesome Major Weather Storm Predictor Six Thousand segment is, while I’m desperately seeking a morsel of info about today’s weather and commute: Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid Stupid!
Tailgating in this kind of weather = Stupid #%*! ##!^ **!!!! Stupid.
Driving 70+ on 279 this morning = Darwin-award-winning stupid!
Winter = Stupid!
Snow = Stupid!
Groundhog = Stupid!
Gloves, boots, hats = Stupid-Stupid-Stupid!
Salt on my car = Stupid!
Shoveling my driveway = Stupid!
Having a day off when your job is snow removal = Totally the Most Stupid Stupid-thing Ever in all the Stupid History of Stupidville!
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February 22, 2011 at 5:52 am 5 comments