column: True Love Trumps Romance

SLIGHTLY OFF THE MARK

 

            This week – being Valentine’s Week – I must pay tribute to those who’ve fallen in love with questionable taste: people who choose to be with the crazed, the obsessive, the workaholic, and the occasionally moronic.

            In other words, I’d like to pay tribute to my fiancée.

            We met on a writer’s website, one of those places where geeks and nerds escape jocks, haters, yuppies, and the establishment, otherwise known as real life. You couldn’t see who you were messaging (which may explain why she fell for me), and based on my writing style she originally thought I was female. I choose to take that as a compliment.

 If anyone there made a pass, it would be with such sexy lines as, “So … what are you typing with?”

            “A Mac.”

            “Oooooohhhh…. Talk Apple to me.”

             You’ve heard of the May-December romance? Ours is an April-December romance. (March is illegal.) I no longer bother correcting salespeople who call her my daughter, although I haven’t yet given in to the urge to let them believe that for awhile, then start making out with her. These are the things humor writers think are funny.

            Because of our age difference I’m very close to being on the same emotional level as she is, although she has me beat on both overall maturity and intelligence. You might think she’s part of my midlife crisis, but I’ve yet to buy a sports car or get hair plugs; and she’s clearly not gold-digging, as my entire fortune consists of a collection of wheat-head pennies and a Johnny West action figure (both in fair to poor condition).

          

( So it must be love. And in honor of Valentine’s Day, that tribute to pink and chocolate, I’d like to tell everyone just what I love about my Emily: )