by Roger White
Seeing as how it’s Valentine’s season, let’s talk about love.
Love’s a funny thing, isn’t it? No matter how much of it you give away, love remains full and strong, always. If you chop love in half, each half will grow again to full measure, into whole complete love—because true love survives.
Take my wife, for example. You thought I was going to say, “Take my wife, please.” Nah, that’s Henny Youngman’s line. The love I hold for my lovely wife, Sue, has matured and shaped itself into this wondrous, long-lasting deep and mellow love that will burn on like a mammoth firelog. Ya know, those giant firelog pits that you gather ’round at Zilker Park during Christmas season? It burns like that. The love I share with Sue is battle-hardened, scarred, weathered – and true. I never thought love could look so beat up and still be so amazingly beautiful. Our love looks like it’s been through a Hoboken subway tunnel, but it’s still there.
We’ve been through a lot, my wife and I, but we know that our love is a firelog love, always burning, keeping us safe and warm. I will love Sue always, and she knows that in her heart, and vicey veesy. Or vercy vice-chair. veeky….something
Now, my love for my daughters is a whole other can of love. Yes, it’s still love, but it’s the brand of love that makes me catch my breath with pride, clench my fists in stark fear, and weep quietly in the night over broken hearts. When I watch my daughter Lindsey play guitar or my daughter Jamie run like the wind, I want to jump and shout and tell the world about their talents, but I’m Dad so I just smile and say “all right!”
To your kids, there’s nothing worse than embarrassing them in front of their friends, so you have to play it cool. But, man, I love those girls. Did I tell you that Lindsey makes her own jewelry and that Jamie can play volleyball like a manic octopus? Oh, I did already. Sorry. I have some pictures! Oh, you’ve seen those, too. OK.
Anyway, it’s funny how we bandy the word “love” about, when it is such a powerful and elusive thing. Love can curl itself into a ball and hide from you, run long and hard down the road with you chasing after it, or it can gob you right in the face like a melted marshmallow. You don’t have the controls. It does. But you must treat love with great respect and care, for if you lose it, your world will be corrupt and bitter and cold.
It sounds cliché, I know, but you must be careful with love. It’s the best thing we’ve got. Love is the power of the universe, but you have to use it wisely. You must nurture it, and stay faithful. It’s like a basketball filled with truffles. Bounce it lightly, or you’ll have a big mess. You can say you love your car or your job or your new tie, but that’s the Cliff’s Notes rendition of love. No, when we’re talking about real love, we’re talking about the engine that runs your very soul. If you are really in love with something or someone, it becomes a better part of you.
So. Spread some love with a gentle butter knife. Wield it skillfully. I think that’s what we’re here for. That, and to render good music. Love, friends, music, and a little wine. That should be all you need. Yah?
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