After last year’s debacle (we wont even go back to the year before last!), I’m really hoping I did OK this year. I tried. I have often been told that trying is all it takes. I don’t think those guys know a damn thing ‘bout Valentines Day—trying don’t get ya anywhere.
While the wife was at work, I made myself lunch and kept the pups off the carpet—didn’t even allow them outta the kitchen. I decorated the kitchen and made the wife a Valentine Sack—you remember those; the kind you pasted harts on and hoped your best girl would give you a special Valentine—even though she had absolutely no idea whatsoever that she was your best girl. I made me one also just so I could put my two lonely cards inside and re-read again later. Of course I maintained the appropriate proportionality between the sacks—I’m not completely stupid.
I next went over to the HEB, searched up and down the Valentine Card aisle for just the right card that had exactly the right words on the inside—like I could really tell. I walked around and around the flowers and finally picked out just the exact right ones in this area also—ditto the previous comment.
Brought all the goodies home and added some appropriate sentiments to the inside of the card. Then I sat back and waited on the inevitable outcome.
The wife arrives: “What’s this?” she comments as she stares down the big sack I have provided for the collection of her valentines.
Just WHO gets all the attention at my house?
I explain that I wanted her to recapture her youth, but only if she wanted to. She did enjoy the roses—actually took a few to work with her the next day; saying: she “wanted to enjoy them more.” There wasn’t as much excitement about the sack—Gus and I had put a lot of work in on that; I was disappointed now. The pups, both Little Gus and Otis thought the sack was the top of the world. They kept running at it and poking it with their nose and tail: “Look Mom; we got a sack!”
See, I put it in there!
Patsy got a bite of ham or two, went upstairs to change clothes and we were off to the Austin City Limits Live stage to take in a Rob Schneider concert. She had scored the tickets at work—actually she is my main link to good tickets to whatever is going on in the Austin area now that I have retired and no longer have various vendors attempting to bribe me for business purposes.
I am always looking for somebody I know when we are out like this and invariably I never see anybody I know.
Making our way through the throng, we encountered some of Patsy’s associates and the Director of Marketing who were working the event and I scored some very cool sunglasses and a hand soap dispenser—you can never get too much free junque, ya know? Soon after we were chased down by one of the two of Patsy’s employees and their significant others—also attending the event—prior to heading to our seats. We spent the rest of the pre-show available time with good people and great conversation.
The organization where Patsy works has a suite at the ACL-Live stage so we took advantage and had two or three (or more) glasses of champagne and several chocolate covered strawberries apiece before the show and again at intermission.
Schneider’s show has been reworked a bit since the last time I saw him at a ACL Festival several years back—probably a little more that just a little re-work has taken place. He has a string quartet, an additional cello, a piano and trumpet player accompanying him now along with two girl singers who perform off and on (singularly) throughout the show. The songs had been captured from the late 1930s and early 1940s—My Funny Valentine, As Time Goes By and the like. We both enjoyed the show immensely.
Made our way to our seats and found some squatters; sternly advised them that they needed to move—actually considered chunking them over the rail; we were on the first row of the mezzanine and could have. They moved to the seats I kindly advised them that were available at the time but were up and down during the whole show.
Checking around the section, one of the group spotted Mathew McConaughey (with fiancée) and Robert Rodriguez sitting in our section. I thought it so sad that neither of them knew Patsy nor I—their loss.
We didn’t get out of the theatre until after 11 PM and finally home some twenty minutes later. The pups were irritated that they had to stay up past their bedtime—mine also. I paid for it this morning with Champagne Head.
Yep, I survived Valentines Day; but just barely.