Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
The things we do for love
How far will we go for love?
I think some guys are willing to work a lot harder for it than others. In particular, if you look like this
(that was for you, bam) you’re likely to expend far less time and effort snagging this
than if you look like this
.Before you howl, “But Rick Moranis is cuuuute!” let me say: I’m one hell of a lot cuter than Rick Moranis, and I’ve had two, count ’em two women in my life (no, I’m not counting my mom), and it hasn’t been for lack of trying.
Matter of fact, I got pretty good at trying.
I’ve already written ad nauseum about my courtship with Karen. Nuff said already. Thinking about today’s theme, it occurred to me that I haven’t told you much about my first girlfriend, GFv1.0*.
GFv1.0 never put me through much grief, not in our courtship phase. No, she let her parents do it for her. They liked having me over for dinner for a game I liked to call, “Torment the Howlie.” Or was it, Torment the Gwailo? Can’t remember what slang we used for whitey in those days. Anyway, GF’s mom would feed me yummy stuff like fish stomach. Grinning madly, she’d say, “SO? How do you like?” Then GF’s dad would make me drink Chinese tea that smelled like tobacco and kept me up for days.
I realize now they were being nice, accepting me into the fold. GFv1.0 has since told me that they actually really liked me. But at the time, I saw it all as an awful test.
Black mushroom: that’s the one I failed.
GFv1.0 couldn’t understand why I didn’t like black mushroom. It upset her. It was worse than, say, hating chocolate. Oh, how we fought over black mushroom. Nowadays, of course, I crave the stuff.
Would you believe that for love of GFv1.0, I once watched a chick flick from the first row of the movie theater and then raved about it afterwards? Well, of course I did. I’ll bet lots of high school guys do that, especially those of us who hung out at the Rick Moranis end of the gene pool.
We saw The Turning Point, with Shirley MacLaine (*shiver*), Anne Bancroft, and Mikhail Baryshnikov. But I didn’t care that I was watching a chick flick and getting a whopping case of neck strain. Why? I’ll tell you why.
We’d had dinner at a nearby pizza parlor, and then we decided to fit in some necking time before the movie. This was mighty early in the relationship; open-mouth kissing resembled Mr. and Ms. Pac Man trying to eat each other’s faces. It was a messy affair, with much gnashing of teeth and bruising of lips, because, you know, they just don’t teach this stuff in school.
At one point, she reached over and patted the lump in my crotch and said, “What is that thing?”
That’s how I managed to get through The Turning Point with a grin plastered all over my face. Granted, there were Levis in the way, but she’d actually touched it.
Something just occurred to me. Given the fact that Mikhail Baryshnikov spends most of that movie in tights, I don’t think GFv1.0 would have asked me that question after the movie.
D.
*Who shall remain nameless. There’s a distant chance she may visit the blog one day. If so, my only chance of survival will be the fact that I haven’t spread her name to hell and back.
After reading this post I visited your post about your courtship with Karen. I loved the picture and it does appear you are a great match for each other! You both are awesome people and help me so much at the Nature Center. I apsire to your level of geekfulness. Thanks.
But Rick Moranis is cute!
I’m setting the humor on the back burner for awhile, Doug, to let you that I so thoroughly enjoyed this post as well as your three “courtship with Karen†posts. Sweet, genuine, funny, and so reminiscent of days gone by. The old photos you included imbued your story with a wonderful sense of nostalgic whimsy, making it all so much more real for the reader.
Lasting relationships today are so rare, Doug, and it’s refreshing and uplifting to see a man’s abiding love for his wife so lovingly and tenderly evident in what he’s penned. I wasn’t prepared for the end of your third installment. How bittersweet to read of Karen’s MS at so young an age. I do hope that she’s doing well now.
Yes…without doubt, GFv1.0 is definitely the big loser in this story. 🙂
Thanks for a lovely start to my day.
Okay, you guys are making this FAR too serious. Except for you, Maureen. You’re keeping it juvenile, just the way I like it.
GFv1.0 eventually married one of my best friends from high school. He’s a good man. Perhaps not as scintillating as yours truly, but not as neurotic, either.
I say, Goddamn, but that Scott Speedman is a good-looking man. Thanks, Doug!
For the right person, I am willing to kill, maim, torture, and die.
I might even be willing to let him have sex with me in the most uncomfortable place… which is the back of a Volkswagen.
My husband was in the wedding party of my BFv1.0, and wanted him in ours. I put my foot down.
Doug – I’ve only really had two men in my life too, BFv1.0 from grade 11 through most of University and Paul for the past 17 years (15 1/2 of them married). It never occurred to me that might be something to feel inferior over.
Nor should you.
And I’ll admit to a little crush on Rick from his Bob and Doug Mackenzie days. I had, shall we say, unusual tastes. 🙂
Okey, so I’m not feeling inferior, eh?
Aside from the innate guy urge to shag everything that moves, my main regret is that if I’d had more girlfriends, I’d have had more stories to tell.
Today’s code word: ardzbun
BTW, Bam, it’s not the back of a VW. It’s outside, by a river, with only an old Pizza Hut vinyl red-checked tablecloth covering the rocks, in the middle of freakin’ October. Yes, I was marinated, but not enough that I couldn’t feel the ants tickling my behiney. Wouldn’t even talk to my boyfriend again unless he produced proof of hotel reservations.
what’s the deal with the code words?
*koff koff* As a woman of a certain age, and with a few relationships in my wake, I can tell you this: I’d rather date a nice, smart, sensitive Rick Moranis than a hunka hunka burnin’ asshat that looks like Scott Speedman. In my experience, attractive men often find out early that they can act like bastards and shine their adorable smile and be forgiven, while an ugly boy has a slightly better chance of actually developing a brain. Not to mention a little sensitivity.
I enjoy looking at cute guys, but nowadays my reaction is more, “Wow. That’s aesthetically pleasing,” and “I’ll bet your mommy’s proud of you,” than “Slice me off some of that!” Maybe I’ve just grown cynical with the advent of my thirtieth year…
Aw, Lilith, who’s to say that a good lookin’ dude like Scott Speedman isn’t a nice, sweet, smart guy? I’m just sayin’ that if I had to choose between a nice, sweet, smart guy who looks like Rick Moranis and a nice, sweet, smart guy who looks like Scott Speedman, you better bet your bottom dollar that I’ll shove all y’all aside to get to Speedman.
For the record, my Tim is sweet, smart, sensitive… the biggest nerd I’ve ever known, but also? A hot piece of ass.
Maureen: I’m talking about the silly word verification thingamabob. Sometimes it seems to spell something almost meaningful.
Robyn: not that I would know, but I understand (from reading Smart Bitches, natch) that sex on the beach is far worse. Sandy vag, I think that’s what Candy wrote.
Lilith: past 30? Oooooh, you are sooooo old. (Be careful what you say around your elders.)
bam: I’ll bet you make Tim wear a perpetual three-day-old beard, dontcha?
Oh – in that case I think I’m still in the lead with fzyfuk.
Bam: LOL, honey, you may be right. Just my cynical, dated-too-many-nice-lookin-guys-who-turned-out-to-be-assholes half speaking.
Doug: I respect my elders. Sure I do. I never elbow them in the bingo hall, nor do I SuperGlue their walkers to the floor. *giggle. smirk*