On the way to work Friday, I saw two cats going at it, if you know what I mean. Or they could’ve been fighting.
Either way, their passionate display was a perfect metaphor for Valentine’s Day – these two beings clawing and scratching at each other, out of love or hate or the lack of anything better to do.
As you can probably tell, I’m a romantic.
Then again, maybe not.
I’m always leery of singers who declare undying love for someone in song, when the person who inspired the song probably won’t be around when Grammy nominations are released.
I’m not a Carrie Underwood fan and couldn’t name one of her songs off the top of my head, but I know she sings about taking a baseball bat to beat the crud out of trucks that belong to men who’ve done her wrong.
I respect that – not the beating of innocent trucks, but the singing of songs about love gone wrong, because love seems to go wrong so often.
I became a Willie Nelson fan when I was a kid. If the yard needed mowing, I’d put a cassette tape into my imitation Walkman and let Willie sing about the last thing he needed the first thing this morning.
I prefer Willie’s version of “Always on My Mind,” though putting that phrase in print could get my car beat up by baseball bat-wielding Elvis fans.
In my defense, I think of Priscilla Presley when Elvis sings “Always on My Mind.” With Willie, no particular woman leaps to mind. All I know is this broken-hearted man is begging for one more chance to keep her satisfied, just to keep her satisfied.
What I learned from Willie is what I learned from Billy Joel, and that is to tell her about it, share all your crazy dreams.
Communication, that’s the key, and one assumes the lack of communication led to Joel’s multiple divorces.
Talk to her and listen to her, not necessarily in that order.
Tell her you love her, and take some advice from Elvis and Willie to let her know she’s always on your mind.
Here’s one from my house: Don’t complain every time she wants to watch HGTV, even though she always goes there, like an indictment against your lazy, couch-sitting soul.
Sure, in 24 hours you could have a lovely water feature in your backyard, complete with giant goldfish and time-smoothed rocks from the Sea of Galilee.
But the guys on TV have years of experience, 30-man crews and access to all the backhoes they could ever need.
How can I compete with that, especially with such a comfortable couch?
Let me just say that if I had a baseball bat, I’d have a hard time picking which HGTV host I’d want to hit first.
Anyway, love is patient, love is kind. You know the rest.
M. Scott Morris is a Daily Journal feature writer. Contact him at (662) 678-1589 or email@example.com.