FOR WHAT
IT’S WORTH
| “Blame it on Barb…” |
Issue 74 |
|
| By: Ron Brounes |
January 2006 |
Just when you thought it was safe to check that
mailbox again…guess what? I’m baaaack again!!! (I may have used that line a time or two in
previous writings.) In actuality, I have
been overwhelmed and incredibly touched by the outpouring of requests for a new
“For What It’s Worth.” Hardly a day goes by that I’m not stopped
on the street by some loyal reader (enough already, Mom) and asked why I have
been so lax with my musings. Well, truth
be told, my attention has been so focused on the compelling events of the day
that I was simply unable to find the time to tackle them in a newsletter (that,
and I require much longer naps in my old age).
Since last we spoke (rather, I wrote and you read/skimmed/tossed
in the circular file), the world has changed dramatically.
DID
I JUST MISS SOMETHING?
Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Just
when did Nipsey Russell pass?” Next to Burt Convey and Charles Nelson Reilly,
that guy was the best damn Match Game player ever. Rather, “who
the heck are Ron and Barb?” For
those who don’t know, I have decided to say goodbye to my “wild” bachelor days (much
to the chagrin of swinging singles and underwear models everywhere) and will be
married on April 1. And, that’s no joke
(haven’t heard that one too much). Yes,
I finally met the woman of my dreams and have decided to join the ranks of the
happily married (my friends have been recommending it for years…you all know
who you are). Her name is Barb (though
she may legally change it to Eunice).
Whether it was a chance meeting, destiny, fate, or simply
a couple of hungry folks craving a slice, we ran into each other at a
neighborhood pizza joint (here’s a plug for Romano’s on West Gray) about 16
months ago and it was truly “love at first sight.” (Well, actually we had already
met 16 years prior but shared a mutual disinterest at that time.) This
time, we were both older and wiser so I lived up to my well-known motto that
best defines my personality…“When you
know it’s right, don’t hesitate to take action.” (Well, actually it took me about a month
before I finally got up the nerve to call her, choosing instead to develop that
close relationship via the intimate confines of email.)
When I did finally schedule that first “date,” we
sat and talked endlessly about every topic in the world for about five hours
over dinner. (Well, actually I learned
later that I was so caught up in the conversation that we never even ordered a
meal and merely nibbled on appetizers the whole time. Talk about a cheap date…literally.) From day one we were totally on the same
page, sharing mutual interests, completing each others’ sentences, knowing what
the other was thinking without having to utter a word. (Well, actually after a few hot months of
intimate emails, she broke up with me before I even realized we were dating….apparently,
that was the problem.) I quickly came to
my senses and realized that I was about to screw up the best thing that ever
happened to me. (Notice I am not even
following that up with my typical sarcastic quip).
I
MUST BE GROWING UP (IT’S ABOUT TIME)
At 42 (now 43), the commitment and intimacy phobias
were getting old and tired. Seinfeld had
long been canceled, and it was time to abandon the Jerry/George approach to
dating. While I often chose to portray
my dating escapades as legendary, most loyal readers will be surprised to learn
I haven’t stepped foot in a downtown bar in over 15 years (once they started
charging covers). Those nameless,
faceless, brokenhearted one night stands I have written about for years were
becoming fewer and farther between. (OK,
but I did once ask a girl for her phone number back in college. She was in my accounting class and I wanted
to compare journal entries before the upcoming midterm exam.)
Try as I may (and I tried very hard) to analyze and overanalyze
every insignificant detail of Barb and our experiences together, she continued
to pass with flying colors every obscure test I (unknowingly) put her
through. She laughed at my jokes and
even put me in my place a time or two (not such a difficult task). She was beautiful (not that such superficial
qualities really matter), smart, successful, interesting, well-read, and
tolerated my obsession with UT sports. (She
even wears burnt orange on game days.) She
shared my political philosophies and commiserated with me when the “news of the
day” did not materialize to our liking.
She has a great many friends (who have come to
accept my shortcomings as well) and instantly embraced my family and friends
(and I have some weird friends…present readers included). In fact, in most cases, I am convinced my
friends prefer her company to mine. Many
have come out of the woodwork to get together with us over the past few
months. (Did I suddenly get funnier and
more interesting?) She has read each and
every FWIW newsletter and even suggested a Website to allow loyal readers the
opportunity to stroll down memory lane with past issues. (Please
check out www.ronbrounes.com and
remember the fine folks at www.TexasMarketingGroup.com
for your Internet-related
needs.) She was patient with my
issues of commitment and made me realize that I was far happier with her than I
had ever been at any time in my life.
OCCASIONALLY
PROCRASTINATION PAYS OFF
Just a few short months after determining we had
similar pizza tastes (a crucial consideration), Barb moved from distant
acquaintance to sarcastic email responder to occasional (very occasional)
dinner/appetizer companion to girlfriend to fiancé. I can confidently say that she was “well
worth the wait.” I am ecstatic that I was
so picky (with those past underwear models) and Barb and I finally found each
other. (Though, in reality, had I taken
a little initiative 16 years ago, we may very well have our 2.3 kids by now and
be sending out Bar/Bat Mitzvah invitations like everyone else I know.)
So there you go; it’s been quite a ride these past
few months: the Astros in the World Series, two
national championships for the Horns,
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FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH is a