The Things We Do For Love

Sunday is Valentine’s Day, so let me direct your attention to a song called “The Things We Do for Love.”  It was written in the 1970s, and it’s woefully inadequate.  In fact, it’s crap!  The truth is, if you’re doing it right, when you’re in love, you do extraordinary things that all seem perfectly ordinary — and all that ordinary stuff adds up to make lovers feel special.  Let me give you a few examples.

Walking in the rain with a single rose under your coat — when you kinda/almost/nearly forgot the anniversary — because you know she prefers romantic and on time to expensive and a day late.

Suddenly developing an interest in football — just in time for the championship game.

Holding her hair during the sudden tequila volcano that erupted halfway through her brother’s wedding reception — and vaguely wondering what the penalty is for getting caught in the women’s toilet at the Hyatt Regency.

Watching that same stupid movie every year — even though it’s not a Christmas movie and … “Oh for God’s sake!  How many times do you need to shoot him?  Die already!”

Watching that same dumbass movie every Christmas — even though nobody in their right mind would ever mistake Hugh Grant for sexy.

Leaving the last brownie — just because.

Knowing how to shut up and listen when someone’s had a bad day at work.

Hiding chocolate in the tampons box when “we” are on a diet.

Not stealing the chocolate she hid in the tampons box when “we” are on a diet.

Laughing in all the right places of the same story he told at the last dinner party.

Telling the same story over and over again because she thinks it’s funny.

Spending an entire Saturday afternoon going to every store on the planet to find those disgusting frozen burritos that taste like wallpaper paste – just because he likes them.

Dragging the heaviest suitcase in history across two international borders, through three airports, over miles of cobblestones and up four flights of stairs because “I’m not going all the way to Europe looking like a tramp!”

Taking tons of extra stuff (he’s definitely going to want) to Europe — because his suitcase is the size of Rihanna’s evening bag.

Ignoring bodily noises.

Spending a whole weekend watching crap TV, even though the final episode of Season One and the first episode of Season Two are just sitting there, waiting for someone to watch them — but somebody isn’t going to be home until Monday, and you promised not to peek.

Any bikini wax.

Stopping whatever you’re doing, wherever you’re doing it, to hunt for the exact spot under the bra strap where it itches.

Enduring the Just-Got-Into-Bed cold feet on your … “OMG, lady!  You need to see a doctor!  No human being can be that cold and still be alive.”

And finally:

Ruining your dress, dancing in the rain.

Ruining her lipstick, not her mascara.

Life On Mars

It’s been 40 days and 40 nights since New Year’s– when we finally kicked 2020 to the curb.  And even though every person on this planet shouted “Goodbye and good riddance!” (I know I did) we’ve largely forgotten about it.  The hats have been thrown away, the champagne bottles recycled, and the resolutions … well … the resolutions really didn’t stand a chance this year, did they?  But not to worry.  You can renew those resolutions with a clean slate and a fresh start all this week– because last Sunday was also New Year’s Day – on Mars.

I’ll grant you, unless you’re a NASA scientist, it’s not something you think about, but now that you are, it definitely makes sense, doesn’t it?  After all, Mars has a different rotation from Earth and a different orbit around the sun, so our time – 24 hours/365 days – just doesn’t apply.  Actually, the Martian day, called a sol (pronunciation still in doubt) is 24 hours, 39 minutes long.  (That 43-minute difference is just enough to screw things up.)  And it takes Mars 687 days to get all the way around the sun – a Martian year.  So, since Mars has four seasons (just like us) a quick pen and paper calculation and you have 12 months (BTW, you can name them anything you want; nobody’s done that yet!) and there’s your Martian calendar.

Of course, none of this really mattered before we started sending our machines to Mars to have a look around.  But the minute we did, we discovered we needed a way to keep track of them: Earth time just wasn’t going to do it.  For example, right now in the Pacific Time Zone, it’s about 5:30 p.m. and the sun is going down, but on Mars (where the Rover is) that same sun is shining in the middle of the afternoon.  So far, so good.  But tomorrow (relative to me) Martian time is going to slide backwards 43 minutes, and it’ll do it again the next day, and the next.  By this time next month, me and Mars are going to be out of sync by nearly a whole day!  Oops!  So what NASA did was lengthen the Martian second by (approx.) 1.027.  Then they chose the Martian Spring Equinox as Day One of the Martian year. That allowed them to measure and schedule Martian time accurately from that fixed point.  (FYI, this is no different from Great Britain setting up Greenwich Mean Time in the 19th century, Pope Gregory XIII rebooting the calendar in 1582, or Julius Caesar naming the 7th month after himself when he was running the show.)  Anyway, for some reason (I can’t find out why) NASA decided to backdate Martian time to begin with Year Zero on Earth Year 1955.  That makes this Martian Year 36!

Ever since humans dropped out of the trees and looked up into the sky, the Red Planet has captured our imagination.  It’s our nearest celestial neighbour.  We can see it flickering red with the naked eye.  It has mysterious canals, polar ice caps, volcanos and canyons.  It’s been part of our literary culture for two centuries and part of our scientific world for nearly as long.  So, go ahead and celebrate the hell out of this Martian New Year — cuz the next one isn’t going to happen until December 26th 2022!

You, Too, Can Avoid Burnout!

It’s getting close to a year since the world was ambushed by Covid-19 — and that dirty little bastard has disrupted all of our lives.  We’ve been kicked around, lied to, promised, herded, poked, prodded, lied to again, locked down, locked up, looked over, overlooked and generally screwed around.  And that all happened last summer!  Since then, most of us have learned how to cope.  Congratulations, us!  But there’s still a long way to go, so here are a few guidelines that may help us all survive the psychological strain we’re under.  And, once again — pulling together, we can make this the best pandemic ever! 

If you see the woman down the street walking with her husband more than twice a day, you should intervene.  In firm but kindly tones, explain that two walks a day is sufficient for any adult male.  It’s also a good idea to offer some positive alternatives — such as, perhaps, letting him off the leash so he can have a run in the park with the other husbands.

If the guy next door is in his front yard, shouting at the crows to “Just mind your own business!” it’s time to be a good neighbour and, at a safe social distance, enter into a conversation, empathize and calmly suggest that, smart as crows are, they probably don’t understand English.

If you’re having erotic thoughts about the Amazon delivery people, that’s perfectly normal.  They’re possibly the only human contact you’re getting these days.  However, you should confine your fantasies to just one or maybe two of the semi-regulars.  Being promiscuous can seriously damage your self-esteem.  And we all know how harmful slut shaming is — especially if you’re doing it to yourself.

If you’re starting to remember those godawful family gatherings at Christmas and Thanksgiving fondly, you need to take immediate action.  Open a bottle of wine and drink at least half of it.  Then set up a Zoom call with your sister-in-law (the bitchy one) your aunt (the religious one) Uncle Terry (who’s been stoned since 2005) and your cousin (who sells Mexican Time Share Condominiums.)  Tell them you’re thinking of having an affair with the Amazon delivery girl, and see how long it takes for your mother to join the conversation. 

If you look forward to Garbage Day, that’s a healthy way to break up the monotony of locked-in life.  However, you need to remember not everyone shares your commitment to the challenges of regular municipal sanitation.  Texting your neighbours – every week — to remind them what day it is can be annoying.  Also measuring, photographing and suggesting a detailed realignment of their bins — every week – can upset some people.  It’s best to consider garbage day a personal accomplishment, celebrated with a quiet glass of wine at the end of the day.

If you’ve forgotten where you put your pants, that’s okay. (Who hasn’t?)  However, if you’ve forgotten how to put them on, you need to stop, take three deep breaths and try to figure that shit out – it’s important.  Go to YouTube if you have to.

If, at some point, you just lose it and confront the clothes dryer, demanding the return of all the socks it’s stolen over the years, you need to take a step back.  The dryer is not going to respond to those hostile tones.  You need to think about this: perhaps the stolen socks were just a cry for help.  Is the lint filter clogged?  Perhaps, blowing hot air is not as fulfilling as it once was?  We all spin at a different speed, folks!  Maybe it’s time for you to take a time out, think about it, apologize and initiate a more meaningful dialogue.   

And finally:

If you’re discussing these issues with the refrigerator, do so openly and honestly.  Remember, we’re all in this together, and it’s up to you to let the things that are important to you know they’re not alone.