Category Archives: Love

Show & Tell: Kid Clint and the pivotal burrito

“Find out,” I told my friend, Don, “find out what you can about that guy with the blue eyes.”

Don was the teacher of my Improvisational Comedy class. In addition, he was my contract employee, since I had hired him to teach the class for the adult learning network I ran in the mid 1990s.

One of the perks of my job was that I got to interview all the teachers and observe a 15 minute teaching demonstration of their classes. I also got to attend any class in our 64-page catalog, which we published 8 times a year. My areas of expertise became broad as the Great Plains and deep as its topsoil during the Great Depression.

I’d been spending my Saturday nights in the lower level of a bar where Don’s improv troupe performed. A team of 15 players rotated 5 in and out each week, and several times I’d caught this very cute 20-something guy with piercing blue eyes. A guy who didn’t always resort to the easy laughs one gets with crotch humor (Halloooo, google pervs!).

In fact, this guy proffered very literate humor. As a business major, I recognized but didn’t “get” his references to Dante and Melville, to Cervantes and Scorsese. I just knew he was smart and funny. And had gorgeous eyes.

Hence my request to Don.

“What, exactly, would you like me to find out for you?” asked Don the Monday after a show.

“Just the important things,” I replied. “Find out if he’s single, if he’s straight, and if he’d like to meet me.” (It was, after all, the theatah.)

On Thursday, Don called with three answers: yes, yes and yes. And that the troupe was to perform at a street festival Saturday afternoon.

That day we had a brief hailstorm during which I subjected my sister, Tami, to witnessing a trying-on of my entire closet. I hadn’t told her why I cared so much about my appearance.

The clouds finally cleared and we headed to the festival. We found the stage (really just a blocked-off intersection) and watched the street performance, where Blue Eyes ended up playing Clint Eastwood as a kid. On his bare knees in the middle of the street. With a lit cigarette hanging out his mouth.

Don had told Blue Eyes about me. In fact, while offstage, Don pointed our way and said to him, “Remember I told you about the girl who wanted to meet you?”

“Yeah,” said my prey.

“See that girl over there?” Don said. “Oh, yeaaaaah,” Blue Eyes said, appreciatively.

Don was pointing at my sister. My very BUXOM sister.

“It’s the tall woman behind her,” Don finished. “Hmmmmm,” was the response, with perhaps an equally approving head nod (I’ll never know, will I?).

We angled to meet each other after the show. After some misses, we ended up at the same burrito booth at the same time.

Extending a hand that bore a wrapped burrito, he said “Hi, Lori. Don has told me about you. I’m Roger.”

With that, our fate was sealed. 14 years ago this week.

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More Show & Tell at Mel‘s.

2012: This is part of a GenFab bloghop:

My fate

Not quite 13 years ago, I walked down a short aisle on a landing at a local pond promised a bunch of yada yada, made goo-goo eyes at a very handsome man and voila! left my maiden days behind.

We had a somewhat offbeat wedding. I chose our processional song — the instrumental version of The Princess Bride. (Our First Dance was to the Mark Knopfler version that added in vocals. We’d taken ballroom dance lessons for months prior to the big day, and still I managed on a twirl to bop him in the nose with my elbow. No blood.)

Roger got to choose the recessional song. It just now came up on my iPod, thus prompting this little Valentine’s Day post in his honor.

Know what he chose? The song to kick off our married life, to serve as backdrop for our first kiss, to face the landing full of our family and friends as husband and wife, to launch our big-ass party? A song from his favorite movie, Goodfellas. (Are you seeing the movie theme here?)

Roger, thanks for the roses I found in the kitchen this morning. My fate is still up to you.

Just wondering…can I twuwy wuv myself?

I’m pondering three quotes, traveling their threads on this unstructured day.

1. People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun it out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.
— Elizabeth Kubler-Ross

2. Everyone has a price, and life respects that price. But that price is not measured in dollars or in gold, it is measured in love. More than that, it is measured in self-love.
— Don Miguel Ruiz in my 2007 engagement calendar

3. And wuv, twu wuv, will fowow you foweva…So tweasure your wuv.
— The Impressive Clergyman in the Princess Bride

Hmmmm….do I have a light within? Often I feel like all the light in my life (which is considerable) comes from outside me. I’m surrounded by lots of shining people, really good people. It is an odd thought that I attract light because I am light. Could I be? I must be. But I don’t quite believe it. Not in my bones.

How do I love myself? I see all my flaws (which are considerable). But I am able to love other flawed people, loving their light and their dark. Can I also love myself that way — to see myself as more than just the sum of my flaws?

What would it be like to love myself so much — to be so in love with myself — that I have the same sensations I had when Roger and I first met, or the same sensations as when I first held each of my children?

  • To have my heart beat with excitement in anticipation of the chance to be with me?
  • To want to get lost in me.
  • To come up with simple and elaborate ways to pamper me and make me feel special.

Is it acceptable in our culture to love one’s self? How can one express self-love? Is doing so selfish, or is it the most selfless thing in the world?

Can we ever twuwy wuv another without first wuving and tweasuring ourselves?