Runny Yolk and some other folk have suggested that bloggers post a photo of their wedding for Valentine’s Day.
So, without further ado, TA DA!
In honor of Valentine’s Day, I would like to talk about Darcy a bit. I call him Darcy because my parents believe he resembles Mr. Darcy. Some people grow up reading the Bible, superhero comic books, Nancy Drew novels, Gibbons or even Roth. Growing up in my house, the Word According to Jane Austen was the Truth. Even though her narrow world seems not applicable to today’s freewheeling society of social networking, tweeting, texting and globalization, her stories are still pretty universal. This subject matter has been covered by much better writers than me. But to give you a sense of how important She is to my parents: each Christmas, they watch the entire BBC version of “Pride and Prejudice”. All six hours. Do not bring up the Keira Knightley version. They will cut you.
Darcy is wonderfully rude and direct, but I’ll cover that at some later point. He is also a master of the Romantic Gesture.
So, I guess I’ll start at the very top of the list of his Gestures. To prove my point.
We were in Paris. (Already, I can see you gagging.) Darcy begged me to go for a midnight walk. It was cold, and I was recovering from a bout of food poisoning, so I didn’t want to be anywhere not near a toilet.
Isn’t it romantic! But, I finally agreed. We walked to the Pont Neuf. There was a group of hooligans in the small park. I wanted to go, Darcy wanted to wait. We did, and within 30 seconds the hooligans dispersed, as if by magic.
We walked to the very edge of Pont Neuf, within a stone’s throw of the Seine, and the world sped up. I could see the Eiffel Tower and it was shimmering. Suddenly, Darcy pulled out a copy of “Sense and Sensibility”. Which is my favorite Austen book. And I had never told Darcy this. I was sure he assumed my favorite was “Pride and Prejudice”. Suddenly, he kneeled down and opened the book. He had cut into the pages and placed an engagement ring in the depths.
I love you, Darcy. And not just because of the Grand Gestures, but because you let me sleep in on Saturday mornings.