Wednesday, August 24, 2011

In a conversation about nothing really, Flash retorted with a quick, "What? So sue me for being a romantic!"

And I realized, of all things to hand-down to your child, of all the genetics, dispositions, inclinations, habits, tendencies and beliefs to pass along to your offspring, could there be anything worse than condemning them to the life of a romantic?

I wanted, then and there, to just hug him and beg for forgiveness for passing along the romantic curse. I wanted to apologize and try to sway him off the course I know he is now destined to suffer through.

What fate could be worse than to be a romantic in this life? Is it not a life of continual disappointment? Is it not a life of frustration and suffering? Is it not a life where the glass, while rose-colored and lovely, is not just half-empty, but full of poison to boot?

Romantic.

But maybe there is hope. Maybe there is a glimmer in all of this, for Flash is not just any romantic, he is a male romantic. The romantic male is a rarity indeed, is it not? I don't mean to suggest Flash is some sappy, effeminate poet. He merely believes that life's precious moments are worth savoring, worth contemplating, worth creating and planning to bring out full emotion of the occasion. He doesn't leave to chance the important moments, and he makes little moments important with his care and thought. A first kiss is a masterpiece in his mind. Scripting the perfect, nerdy love-letter takes days. He even sweated out the details to make sure just having his girlfriend to dinner was planned and thought-out and not just happenstance. He worried over the timing: dinner then movie? Movie then game? Game before dinner? Until he thought he had it all orchestrated just so.

Life won't always go this way, in fact, it won't even go this way often. But from the viewpoint of a 40-year old romantic cynic, I guess I admire his naive tenacity. I admire his effort, his desire, his enthusiasm. Ahh, puppy love. What the innocent enjoy before they learn that love bites.

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