Marvin Gaye is and always will be better than Kanye West

[KB.]

I remember the last time I wore shorts in public. I was 17, it was honors biology class. Mr. Duffey (one of my heroes) told me I had the ugliest legs he had ever seen. It was probably true. I haven't worn shorts past my back porch since. My legs look like Casper. That has nothing to do with any story I am going to tell. Just thought I would share.

MTV killed romance, or at least tried it's very best to do so. Not just MTV, but shows that follow the, "I'm single and have no pride or inhibitions", genre. You are either taking a few minutes to check the other persons underwear drawer, asking them what they like to do which is often followed by some asinine revelation, or swapping them out for the next future non literate idiot. Men don't open doors for women anymore, hell they don't open doors for anyone anymore. What happened to that? I try my best to be polite; it isn't even so much about being a "gentleman". Some women, and I apologize if I offend someone, get upset when a man holds the door open. I saw a young woman; perhaps in her mid twenties give an older man of about sixty the most hateful look the other day because he held the door open for her. She told him she was grown and didn't need some man to hold a door for her. He smiled, said he meant no harm, and let her walk in first anyway. I patted him on the back, and told him he was lucky to have been born when he was, when women were strong, and appreciative.

People don't date anymore; at least that is what a lot of pop television would have you believe. They "hook up", damn all that. Romance is a lost art. I blame Bill Clinton, at least with JFK and Ms. Monroe things were left to the imagination. Take that damn dress to the dry cleaners for Pete's sake. There is no sanctity left. Wait a little bit, get to know the person, have some conversation that involves more than, "Your place, mine, or the Holiday Inn". Instead of throwing out some line you saw on the OC, ask the person how their day was or just how they are doing, and talk about the damn weather even. Learn to flirt without sounding like the opening lines in a Ron Jeremy movie. Understand that Marvin Gaye is and always will be better than Kanye West. Pull a chair out, hold a coat, open a door, pay for the meal, ask them questions, be a man. Get some culture in your life.

I am not by any means saying that I am some man's man, or the perpetual gentleman, I am no Don Juan either. I have had and will have my share of, "What the hell was I thinking" moments. I'll share a few, follow along.

University of Memphis, 1997, twenty years old. A few friends and I were at this cool little bar called Fat's (I believe it is long gone). Warren Neely, Mike White, and me. We were sitting in the little concert area they had, I was on the right end of a couch, and Mike was sitting on the arm next to me. This girl sits down, I don't acknowledge her, I was too busy trying to be "hard", she looks like she is getting a little annoyed, and here comes the moment, she drops her purse, things fall out, and I just looked at her. She even gave me a good thirty seconds to get my act together, and I of course sat there like a moron. She sighed, picked her things up, looked at me and said, you ain't ever gonna get laid like that. Now forget the whole sexual innuendo (does that even qualify as being innuendo) of it all. I should have helped her out, she had her hands full, there were people everywhere, and I just sat there like a fool. Romance died a little that day. It may have been a good thing I didn't help her out, but that isn't the point. It was the principle of it all. Principalities as Smokey would say.

I see people every day, couples, who don't talk. The old Cool Hand Luke line springs to mind, "What we have here is a failure to communicate". Talk people, have some conversation, share something with the other one. Tell a story, tell them you are glad they are there, leave a little note on the counter, and buy some flowers just because it is Tuesday. A ten spot will get you a dozen at your local grocery or Wal-Mart. Go with something besides roses sometime too, get some daisies, or go pick five or six buttercups off the side of the road. If you've been married for a year or fifty, don't forget to flirt a little, aggravate, give them a kiss good night. If my grandparents can still do it after almost 68 years of marriage then you sure as hell can. Take a walk, take a drive, take some time. That job you spend way too much time at ain't gonna fix you a cup of coffee in the morning, isn't going to care if you have a headache, and sure as hell won't surprise you with a kiss on the neck while you are watching Sports Center. That boss isn't going to lay around on the floor and let you play Bob Dylan so loud it will wake Jimi Hendrix up from the dead, and grin as you fail horribly to even sound as bad as Bob does when you sing Heart of Mine.

I'm writing this more so for myself, so I don't forget, as I am writing it to anyone else.

Relationships don't have rhythm anymore. I blame break dancing. Actually I would rather blame country line dancing. Damn it people, slow it down, play some Miles Davis and hold the person close.

Instead of grunting, say Good Morning. Go read your kids a book, read them the op ed from the Jackson Sun if you want to, just read to them. Turn the television off and sit down at the table when you have your meal. Just once or twice a week. I understand when Lost is on you need your fill of drama.

If you love someone tell them. It don't make you less of a man, makes you a better one.

The next time you meet some woman that has had too much to drink, and she makes your chest tighten up because you think she is just these bees knees, resist the urge to learn everything about them (I'm being a little subtle here for the sake of things), and call them a cab, and tell them you will talk to them tomorrow. If they lose interest, if they don't pick the phone up, if they think you a fool. Forget it, you are better off. If her idol is Brittany Spears, then just run away, far and fast.

I met a woman in Houston, at Bar Houston, think Coyote Ugly. Great big brown eyes, I could see the crazy in them from the start. She thought I was foreign, and did until 3 hours later when I opened my mouth at the Taco Cabana on FM 1960 West, and she heard that drawl. She still managed to go home with me that night, and not leave for seven or eight months. I should have called her a cab. She was the kind of person that no matter how bad my day was, she had something to beat it. Plus she wore belts that cost more than my rent, which was close to a grand a month, even seven years ago. She also preferred Ludacris to Etta James. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I told her less in those seven months than I told my last two love affairs in a week.

Romance comes out of the quiet, dark hours before the sun rises. It will sneak up on you, and pounce. Knock you down. I love it. It isn't every day you find someone that makes you feel like you are worth something. That takes the time to listen, and when they say they want more, they mean it. I've loved a lot of women, figure I've been loved by most of them in return, and I look forward to a few dozen more. More stories is all it is. If you see some wore out looking man with a bald head, and a little crazy in his eyes holding a door open, just walk on in, maybe say thank you.

I just walked next door to the gas station, in my shorts. I think I can wait another 14 years before I do that again.

I am in love with commas and sentence fragments.

KB

[RedGlitter]

I especially love this story, KB. So many parts ring true for me.

I agree with you...romance is a lost art. And we need more Etta and Miles.

So glad you chose to share your writing with us.

[Uncle Kram]

KB. I love reading your stuff. Always makes me smile a bit.