Welcome to PCT’s 2013 Romance Issue!
(February 2013 issue at newsstands now!)
It’s a little bit of a challenge to put together an issue about romance because what people consider being romantic varies from person to person. Like beauty, romance really does lie in the eye of the beholder.
Ivan Panin once said, “For every beauty there is an eye somewhere to see it. For every truth there is an ear somewhere to hear it. For every love there is a heart somewhere to receive it.”
Example: For me, one of the most romantic times I share with the man in my life is simply drinking coffee with him before the sun comes up in the morning, reading the newspaper and bantering about current events.
But then, that’s the way we started. I met him in a charming city on the New England coast. We were there for a conference. I had met him briefly, the day before.
I had a room at the Marriott I shared with three other young women (none of whom were especially early risers).
I woke up just after 5 o’clock that morning, showered, put my hair in a ponytail and went downstairs to find coffee and a newspaper. As I walked through the room of still-sleeping girls, someone tossed a pillow at me. Definitely not morning people.
Once I reached the lobby, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee welcomed me and somewhere I could hear the clanking of a restaurant being prepared for serving breakfast.
On a loveseat in the middle of the lobby, there he was, resplendent as he sipped coffee from a Marriott mug, his eyes glued to a Boston Globe.
“Wow! Where did you find a Boston Globe?” I asked him. It really wasn’t meant as a pick-up line. The day before, all I could find in the hotel was a U.S.A. Today. “Did they have a New York Times?”
“Why’d you want a New York Times?” he said. His voice dripped with Boston-ness.
“To read,” I said, growing a bit annoyed. “Why is it that guys from Boston are soooo arrogant?”
Oh, wait, I just said that out loud, didn’t I? Not good.
“Why is it that girls from Texas are opinionated?” he said, fast.
“Sorry, I have a caffeine deficiency,” I said, in an effort to make a quick save. “If I don’t meet my daily allowance of it by 6 a.m. I become obnoxious and stay that way for months.”
“Too late, it’s already happening,” he said without taking his eyes off his newspaper. He was folding it up and getting to his feet. He was leaving? Ouch. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Like my men — strong!” It just popped out of my mouth.
“Keep my place, and watch my coffee. I’ll be back,” he said.
He returned quickly with a cup of strong, dark wonderful coffee and a Dallas Morning News, rather than a New York Times. I didn’t care. We argued about current events, world affairs and the funny paper. He liked Doonesbury, I preferred the Far Side. He liked the Patriots and the Cowboys. I liked the Rams and the Cowboys.
Goes to show you, Dr. Seuss was right when he said, “We’re all a little weird, and life’s a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love.”
Four months later we were in New Orleans on our honeymoon at 4 a.m., strolling through the French Quarter on our way to drink coffee with beignets at Café Du Monde and read the Times-Picayune.
And Kenny Rogers was right when he sang, “There’s someone for everyone.”
Editor and Publisher,
Parker County Today Magazine