BEING IN LOVE DRAMATICALLY DIMS THE LIGHT OF COMMON SENSE

Oh yes it does and you know it, at least I hope you do – really, because then you have been in love. The being in love experience is out of this world; the euphoria it comes wrapped in, the excitement, the romance, the elicit fantasies of what is next, the tender touches, the newness and in many cases followed by the till death do us part bit (not referring to untimely fatality by the hands of crazed spouse). But there’s another equally important side to being in love, like utmost stress, paranoia, frustration, insecurities, sweating in real weird places, shattered hopes, despair and pathetic behavior, financial ruin, stupidity, ignorance, anger and jealousy – just to name a few. Put the two sides together and you know I’m right: being in love dramatically dims the light of common sense. That’s how life really is… Don’t you agree?

Being in love with and love somebody (other than oneself), are two different animals. The first is that cute little puppy of initial feelings that might bring us to that love you thing. I seriously don’t think we can be in love forever, it’s such a strong feeling – I probably don’t have the emotional stamina or the capacity to do that. But the love somebody bit I’m more than fine with, as it involves a massive amount of respect and a lot of other cool stuff.

There are many ways people meet and fall in love. From those sensitive and charming pick-up lines in Tony’s Bar & Thrills: “Your place or my car?” and the sure-fire: “I’m a Gemini, and how much do you weigh?” till meeting love interests through friends and family, AA meetings, the Internet, the produce aisle at Raley’s or through the local escort service; the places and ways we meet are too numerous to count. But we meet and sometimes we fall in love while watching common sense flush down the toilet.

Being in love does dim our common senses and we do stupid things accordingly. No disrespect to Lady Gaga, but we do go gaga when Cupid’s arrows hit our hearts; at times it would have helped matters if they went straight through our heads instead, if you know what I mean. For the most we forget who we really are and act like somebody we think he or she will like better. We use too much cologne and perfume, set our hair so different and wear clothes never worn before to the point where our frightened mothers don’t recognize us when we walk through the living room dressed for that first date and confused mother screams: “rape, murder and weird intruder” while frantically dialing 9-1-1. We open all kinds of doors for our new love-interest (a forgotten chivalry thing that we saw in a movie). We pull chairs out and push them in, hoping she lands on them; we listen (I know, but I did tell you about that gaga thing); we compliment too much:  “Your hair looks lovely tonight, Dorothy, and it goes so well with your purse…” we stammer from lack of training. She’s in love as well and doesn’t hear a thing; she is busy wondering if the dress she borrowed from Macy’s for the night will survive the evening in a money-back condition. A bit much, but you know what I mean, huh?

And then there’s the possible goodnight smooch, that first physical encounter besides the one when he poked an elbow into her left eye while demonstrating a dance-step he had forgotten; that potential kiss lingering through the evening. The bad-breath syndrome is looming excessively and the moment is getting closer and closer. But before that, every bloody move, tone of voice, smile, verbalization, concern and everything else is hacked through some form of intense censorship. What did he mean when he said he loved my hair; why was his fingers crossed? With those long nose hairs, would it be possible that she doesn’t shave her armpits? That would be so cool. Is he going to pay for this meal or did he forget his wallet - duh? And the self-assured smirk on his face suddenly disappears as he realizes he has been playing footsy with one of the table legs for 45 minutes - and so forth. It’s Romantic Hell at its best, don’t you think so? I do hope you have been through it all – and maybe a few times, because it is really cool - afterwards.

I liked being in love; the last time was some 27-plus years ago, and we will be together till death do us part – I have no doubts about that. I love my wife, a love mixed with massive respect. And once in a while I find myself being in love with her again; it’s a bit different than the initial fireworks, but it’s there and when it is, I take it all in, smile and sigh. Yes, it’s still a grand feeling, but now it’s without the crazy stuff, only filled with common sense.  

Being in love dramatically dims the light of common sense is a fact we all acknowledge. But would we like it any different? I doubt it. We all smile and giggle when we retell our romantic how we met stories; we all know we went a bit gaga, and isn’t that wonderful? I like listening to those stories and then I think about how I met my wife and how I fell in love at first sight – and that is so much Life as it Really is (sighing)…

Thanks for reading, see you next Monday