Six Little Words

Two people I love celebrated 49 years of marriage last weekend. For the people who love the celebrants, this is a bitch, specifically in the gift department. I like going by the anniversary chart which tells you what gift for which year- year one is paper, two cotton or wood, etc. By 49 even the list makers were at a loss- the gift suggestion- "something luxurious". Thanks (posi-frickin-tively USELESS).

We found a gift - a really lovely bottle of champagne which, in the manner of all Jewish parents was deemed "too nice to drink". Eventually I imagine it will be "too dusty to open" or "too sour for salad dressing". But smiles wreathed the celebratory dinner table and the gift performed its duty as a three-dimensional benchmark on the dining room credenza as a tribute to the miraculous triumph of love, and patience in living 49 years with the same person and the same foibles for ALMOST half a century.

It's almost Valentine's Day- one of my favorite holidays, along with Halloween. I am not sure why I latched onto these two. It's not the candy- I like candy alright but (and I almost lost a friend to this admission) I'm not much for chocolate- an occasional piece of dark does me fine. You see, most of my best memories of each holiday are pre- 20 years of age- though there have definitely been some winners post-20. I like black and orange but I LOVE the color red. Lots of people do- F.W. Woolworth based his whole retail decor on the observation that when he began his retail career as a humble street peddler, folks bought more when he displayed his wares on a red cloth. And even though I went to art school and have studied fashion and various aesthetic movements and pride myself on my relatively great sense of style- I must admit- and it pains me to do so- my heart beats just a teensy bit faster at the thought of receiving one of those HUGE heart-shaped boxes of chocolates with layer upon layer of satin ruffles and red velvet flocking with the words "I Love You" in gold letters on the front. I cannot explain this- I just told you- I probably wouldn't eat more than 1 or 2 chocolates (I only like the nuts covered in dark- this probably says reams about my inner mental workings but we will leave that for another day) and I have a teensy apartment and abhor clutter so I wouldn't keep the box- so ...why?

I don't know about anyone else but I think I personally formulated a large number of my most deeply held beliefs before I was 6. That getting dirty is much more fun than preserving your outfit every time. That saying I love you is worth 100 rejections the first time (and every time) someone says- "I love you back". That insults are the purest form of affection. And so on. So- somewhere in the nether reaches of my six year old brain it is written Chocolates on Valentine's Day mean I Love You and the gaudier and more calorie-laden the box- the deeper the love and esteem. At six that might have come out as "You REALLY LIKE me a lot... you must be a total dork" probably followed by a shoulder punch and a hail of thrown chocolate pieces (I will NOT eat the creams, caramels or cherries but aerodynamically speaking they fly like rocks with the distinctly un-rock-like advantage of smooshing when connecting with the target)

Obviously I have mixed feelings about Valentine's Day in particular and love in general. Let me say here categorically that I will choose love over chocolate covered cherries every time. The nuts- in love and chocolate I pretty much have to ask myself- "Why Choose?" and in most cases, in love and chocolate- I choose nuts. Let me also note that my life has been sweeter, and more fun, for having done so.

K sent me a note the other day. He reads USA Today on a daily basis. It's a flaw that always leaves me shaking my head in wonder as it truly is the Fisher-Price brand of newspapers. My guess is- he gets it for free, it's a quick read with coffee in the morning AND is only improved by spilling coffee on it as that rag has to be at least twice as absorbent as the NY Times. Be that as it may- he sent me excerpts from an article on a book called "Six Word Memoirs on Love and Heartbreak" by Smith Magazine. Here are some of the quotes are:


• I think it was the cassoulet. —Amy Ephron

• My life's accomplishments? Sanity, and you. —Elizabeth Gilbert

• They never seemed crazy at first. —Eric Heiman

• Wonder-filled, and never a dull torment. —Diane Ackerman

• He still needs me at sixty-four. —Armistead Maupin

It got me to thinking and I came up with a couple of my own.

• Creates a heart or breaks it.

• Is an afternoon or a lifetime.

• Takes everything, gives back more.

• Never happens the same way twice.

• Not illegal or immoral but fattening

And finally- the answers 49 years in the making, from Addie and Marcel- when I asked them what the secret was to living together for 49 years

She said: "One day at a time."

He said: "Ignore her"

OK it's seven words- but these guys have earned it.

Happy Valentine's Day.