But the real surprise is who continues to give them
All in Love
Author’s note: By the end of this post, I come off as the bad guy (for good reason).
I was at my sister’s house a few years ago for a family function, not sure of the actual occasion, when my daughter Amanda, who was three years into her degree in journalism at NYU casually said, “You know, maybe I should be a doctor.”
As we headed up the mountain on the lift, I fixated on how I would get off that thing. As we climbed skyward I was terrified, not of skiing down this mountain, but of the small little slope of snow that awaited me at the end of that ride. With all that, the small voice in my head just kept repeating, “don’t fall off the chair — don’t fall off the chair.”
When I tell people that my wedding song was U2’s“Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For,” I wait to see how long it takes them to realize I am joking. In hindsight, maybe it should have been.
There is a scene in The Godfather, when Michael Corleone, exiled in Sicily, where he and his two body guards walk along a country road. Suddenly, Michael stops dead in his tracks when he sees a young woman approach. His two bodyguards, on seeing the expression on his face, laugh.
Movies have ruined my life; they taught me that people fall in love at the drop-of-a-hat (I should stop wearing hats).
Then, after for not speaking for a while and after a few drinks (and then a few more) I picked up my cell phone and called. It was late at night, and I knew it was a mistake, but I was happy to hear her groggy voice answer the phone.
I blame movies for my failures in love. I was taught, at a very young age, that when you fall in love, you will know it. There will be fireworks, the soundtrack of your life will swell to a magnificent crescendo and, if you are very lucky, there will be some slow motion running in a field of flowers.