candyfloss
The Fly
Here's an article that was in our local paper:
What does your Valentine really want?
I dreamt that I taught Bono to fly fish the other night.
For those of you not into Irish rock bands, Bono is the front man for U2. If you watched the Super Bowl, you saw him and his band performing at half time.
Now, I've had a crush on the guy since the '80s ? what with that impassioned voice and philanthropist heart ? but I believe this is the first time I've ever dreamt about him. And I'm sure it's the first time I ever dreamt about teaching him how to fly fish.
Maybe when you're nine months pregnant, like I am, dreams simply take an odd turn. Or better yet, perhaps my dream has a tenuous connection to that holiday that's fast approaching.
That's right, gentlemen. Valentine's Day is just three days away. Have you been to the flower shop yet?
What? You didn't even know Thursday was Valentine's Day? Well, don't panic just yet. I have some ideas for you.
My dream got me thinking about Valentine's Day and about what men dread most about it ? trying to figure out what exactly their women want in the romance department.
I've come to realize that my fly-fishing dream was, in fact, probably a very romantic dream. I mean, romance, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Not all women want flowers and chocolate. (OK, so most women want chocolate.) But the fact is, what I find romantic, others may not.
Take fly-fishing, for instance. Although my subconscious apparently can't think of anything more romantic than teaching a leather-clad rocker to catch trout, other women probably would prefer a candlelight table for two at a swanky restaurant.
One person wants poetry. Another flowers.
It seems that we women tend to be the keepers of the romantic flame. We're supposed to long for romance. We're supposed to know what romance is all about.
Most men, on the other hand, consider romance an obscure and esoteric thing. I know there are a few men out there who have romance firmly in their grasp, but most spend their lives looking helplessly bewildered as they try to figure out why the sleazy lingerie they bought for their wives did not do the trick.
This is where my dream comes in. I think it proves that romance comes in many forms. For instance, not only do I apparently find fly fishing romantic, I think a good camping trip is pretty darn romantic, as well. A full day of skiing with my husband ? romantic. Canoeing through the wilderness with my husband ? romantic. A quiet dinner for two ? I could take it or leave it.
I know women who find a man doing the dishes to be about the most romantic thing around. Heck, a man playing with his kids is pretty romantic.
I know from experience that any kind of compliment about your appearance when you're nine months pregnant and feeling like a bowling ball is romantic.
And believe it or not, talking often is romantic. And I'm not talking about the "Let's talk about our feelings" kind of talk. I'm talking about, "What did you do fun today?" kind of stuff.
So you see, guys, maybe it's easier than you think. Maybe the $100 bouquet of roses isn't necessary. Maybe your wife would find a waltz in the living room just as meaningful.
Perhaps your significant other longs for nothing more than a root-beer float delivered without request to her as she lounges on the living room couch. Or maybe, your Valentine would love a lesson or two in fly-fishing. I'm telling you, it's more romantic than you think. Just ask Bono.
Comments or questions? Contact Journal features writer Lynn Taylor-Rick at 394-8414 or lynn.taylorrick@rapidcityjournal.com.
What does your Valentine really want?
I dreamt that I taught Bono to fly fish the other night.
For those of you not into Irish rock bands, Bono is the front man for U2. If you watched the Super Bowl, you saw him and his band performing at half time.
Now, I've had a crush on the guy since the '80s ? what with that impassioned voice and philanthropist heart ? but I believe this is the first time I've ever dreamt about him. And I'm sure it's the first time I ever dreamt about teaching him how to fly fish.
Maybe when you're nine months pregnant, like I am, dreams simply take an odd turn. Or better yet, perhaps my dream has a tenuous connection to that holiday that's fast approaching.
That's right, gentlemen. Valentine's Day is just three days away. Have you been to the flower shop yet?
What? You didn't even know Thursday was Valentine's Day? Well, don't panic just yet. I have some ideas for you.
My dream got me thinking about Valentine's Day and about what men dread most about it ? trying to figure out what exactly their women want in the romance department.
I've come to realize that my fly-fishing dream was, in fact, probably a very romantic dream. I mean, romance, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Not all women want flowers and chocolate. (OK, so most women want chocolate.) But the fact is, what I find romantic, others may not.
Take fly-fishing, for instance. Although my subconscious apparently can't think of anything more romantic than teaching a leather-clad rocker to catch trout, other women probably would prefer a candlelight table for two at a swanky restaurant.
One person wants poetry. Another flowers.
It seems that we women tend to be the keepers of the romantic flame. We're supposed to long for romance. We're supposed to know what romance is all about.
Most men, on the other hand, consider romance an obscure and esoteric thing. I know there are a few men out there who have romance firmly in their grasp, but most spend their lives looking helplessly bewildered as they try to figure out why the sleazy lingerie they bought for their wives did not do the trick.
This is where my dream comes in. I think it proves that romance comes in many forms. For instance, not only do I apparently find fly fishing romantic, I think a good camping trip is pretty darn romantic, as well. A full day of skiing with my husband ? romantic. Canoeing through the wilderness with my husband ? romantic. A quiet dinner for two ? I could take it or leave it.
I know women who find a man doing the dishes to be about the most romantic thing around. Heck, a man playing with his kids is pretty romantic.
I know from experience that any kind of compliment about your appearance when you're nine months pregnant and feeling like a bowling ball is romantic.
And believe it or not, talking often is romantic. And I'm not talking about the "Let's talk about our feelings" kind of talk. I'm talking about, "What did you do fun today?" kind of stuff.
So you see, guys, maybe it's easier than you think. Maybe the $100 bouquet of roses isn't necessary. Maybe your wife would find a waltz in the living room just as meaningful.
Perhaps your significant other longs for nothing more than a root-beer float delivered without request to her as she lounges on the living room couch. Or maybe, your Valentine would love a lesson or two in fly-fishing. I'm telling you, it's more romantic than you think. Just ask Bono.
Comments or questions? Contact Journal features writer Lynn Taylor-Rick at 394-8414 or lynn.taylorrick@rapidcityjournal.com.
