I read the news today, oh boy.
Hey, it’s not that much after Valentine’s Day, already.
So anyway,
way out there on the heart-
or heartless,
front:
Men,
there is a Cyrano de Bergerac Bot now available to write love letters for you.
Ladies,
have you ever been in the situation where someone female-
neighbor,
school parent,
table-partner at a place of work/community “family evening”
where the families are supposed to show up to wave the flag,
(of the U, the church, the club, the computer company,
wherever you all wave)
attaches herself to you,
usually strong hand on arm,
(remember, these ladies play tennis and squash)
which rapidly becomes a steel-like yank,
followed by “Let’s go to the ladies’ room…we can have a little chat…”
And ends with…
“when mine is dead, I’ll never let another one over the threshold.”
And yes, the above is a real quote-
from a many years married chemistry teacher at a faculty party-
whose husband obviously doesn’t have a Cyrano Bot.
Not that I’m much for robots.
But still,
if you look at the partners of the Cyrano-botless,
yup
sure enough,
you will find them
in a group of others of their ilk
(what exactly is an ilk? Some short form for milk,
as in “I am Duncan McLeod, of the milk the McLeods?)
crunching numbers,
expounding business tactics,
cars,
sports,
the latest political ideas,
and discussing how good they are to their wives.
“I go out dancing with her every Friday.”
(Where you try out new steps, and talk to other business men, politicians, or number
crunchers?)
Or
“I took her to a castle hotel for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary”
“Where you drank with the three guys you invited along,
who also just happen to be businessmen, politicians, or number crunchers.”
(We were one of the couples invited along-
Not knowing it was an anniversary.
And guess who spent the weekend taking long walks,
with and without Harald,
to avoid them all.
After which,
in the middle of the night,
there was shouting and screaming,
which turned out to be the silver anniversary pair
ie she yelled,
and he tried to hang here out the third floor window by her ankles till she
“just shut up for once.”
Oh my yes, it really did happen.
So…
in the interest of something I can’t,
as much as I try,
laugh about,
here is my suggestion for world peace,
at least the male/female portion of it:
How about…
Each of you sit down and write a list
of each of the things you do so you can avoid spending time with the other person
when you are actually together.
And then a list of things you really honestly Like to do.
With or without partner.
And then, a shortlist of things you like to do with her.
Or him.
If the lists don’t match,
you might have a serious problem.
And want to go to couples therapy.
Or….
you could do as the geek news suggests,
and get a robot to write and send romantic cards, poetry, etc
in your name to her.
(Just remember to read it first, so you know what you supposedly wrote.)
Oh,
and if you get the upgrade bot,
it could probably be programmed to send flowers regularly,
and perfume, or jewelry, or nighties
on special occasions.
Be careful to make it look like it all came from you, though,
and make sure that you never upgrade to the super premium bot-
which takes over all male duties in the home,
or one day you might open the door
to find your wife has taken your car,
and left you with a driverless electric car,
and a housekeeper bot
in charge of your home.
Ps Harald has threatened to write the male version of this.
Will let you know.
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Quahog on a Tightrope 