There's Romance And Then There's Romance
Wednesday, October 24, 2007 at 10:39PM Today I drove fifty-plus miles round trip to get my hair trimmed, as I do once every four weeks. My hairdresser, Alan, is worth the drive and then some. He understands my hair and does exactly what I ask him to do, and he charges a reasonable rate. I could not ask for anything more and if he ever retires I guess I'll have to shave my head and wear a wig. His "salon" is actually a small shed ("Tha Cut'n Shed") that sits in the middle of a dense pine forest. His house is supposedly down the dirt lane but the trees are so thick, I've never seen it. Alan is several years older than me. He is an ex-Navy man who wears an earring, loves to ride motorcycles, and is devoted to his wife of over thirty years. They are parents of a fine college-age son of whom they are very proud, and rightfully so.
As Alan and I chit-chatted a couple of months ago during one of my appointments, he told me a story I can't forget: he told me all about making his wife's wedding costume. As in, sewing it. Himself. For her to wear on the day she married him. I wish you could have heard Alan describe the outfit. "We were flower children," he said with a twinkle, "so we didn't want anything overly traditional." Apparently the wedding ensemble consisted of a long skirt and matching tunic in bleached muslin, with a special slip/liner that Alan designed to go under the whole thing for the sake of modesty. He picked out a picture-frame hat for his girl to wear for the outdoor ceremony, and selected shoes with ribbons that tied in a criss-cross pattern all the way up to her knees. He even designed and made her bridal bouquet. Alan's face glowed as he told me all about it, and you won't believe this but I was completely silent for, oh, all of ten minutes. For someone who loves romance as much as I, it was a wonderfully sweet story to hear. I am a sucker for anything romantic. I listen to love songs all the time, and if I am not listening to one, I am usually humming one under my breath. I read love poetry several times a week. I cherish my volume of Sonnets From The Portuguese. I can safely say that, even when I am doing something else -- even something as mundane as vacuuming the floor -- romance is not far from my mind. I guess you could say it is a dominant and deeply ingrained trait. My husband of twenty-eight years, father of my four children, does not know how to sew. If I trotted into the TV room right now and poised myself between him and the ball game and demanded to know what I wore on our wedding day, he would probably say: "A white dress." (Yes ... yes, I wore a white dress. Sure did.) I have never heard him sing a love song and he couldn't quote a line of a love poem if the Cubs winning the World Series depended upon it. Although his practicality and dependability and stoicism come through loud and clear, his romantic sensibilities tend to be slightly muffled. But apparently they are there nevertheless. I have noticed that if You've Got Mail is playing on TV and my husband cruises by it while channel-surfing, he will always go back and watch the last five minutes of that movie. Yes, Meg Ryan is cute, but I think it's more than that. I think he likes the romance of Tom Hanks and Meg catching sight of one another in the park, the sweet moment of recognition, Tom saying "Don't cry, Shopgirl," and Meg replying with a tear in her voice: "I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly." So what if my husband didn't sew my wedding dress ... how many men can say they've done that? Clearly Alan is a throwback! He is a phenomenon that cannot be explained! My husband showed up on our wedding day, and although he's got a few (minor) flaws, he has showed up every day since then. He puts up with me, supports and encourages me, and believes in my dreams. And besides ... I wanted it to be him. I wanted it to be him so badly, and he says he wanted it to be me. And even if I have to listen closely, there's romance.
Reader Comments (2)
As someone without a romantic bone in her body, I will side with the wonderful Greg! I do wish I had a husband who could sew AND cut my hair - now, if he could do the ironing too, then my life would be complete!
LOL Depps! I dont want to think about the damage Greg could do to my hair ... but ooohhhhh the IRONING! Now, a man doing the ironing ... that would start me singing "Isn't it romantic ..."