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6 | Wednesday, February u. 2001 I Thb Red a Black
Kyle Wingfield | Currently Dating
editor@randb.com
Chris Hassiotis | Hopelessly Alone
me@randb.com
Brian Basinger | Gettin’ Some Tonight
opinions@randb.com
=5 —======
^Valentine Meter
The tips and downs of Valentine’s Day
i-
In honor of all the couples (or trios, or whatever
floats your boat) who will spend the day (and
night!) of Feb. 14 together, as well as those of us
who are single, The Red & Black dedicates this
special Valentine’s Opinion Meter to you.
Here is a list of the ups and downs of Valentine’s
Day:
Wrapped up in love. Valentine’s Day
also just happens to be National
Condom Day.
Remember, if you’re in a sexually
active relationship, keep it real, keep it
true and keep it wrapped up.
— No glove, no love.
Spreading the news. Today also is
National Vagina Day, a day set aside to
recognize the oppression and mistreat
ment of women all over the world.
Maybe we should start by liberating
the XFL cheerleaders and bringing them
here to the safe haven of Athens.
Empty pockets? — Try Hot Pockets.
The arrival of Valentine’s Day always
brings the yearly rise in cost of flowers,
candy and other VD treats.
If you’re struggling to give your sweet
ie something this year, don’t let money
be an issue.
As long as you have love, all you need
are some ramen noodles, candle light
and some Barry White.
Ahh-yeah!
Revenge is a dish best served hot and
immediately as to produce intense pain.
Ever heard about people who dump
their significant others on Valentine’s
Day?
A special level of hell is reserved for
these heartless trolls — right between
Hitler and Alex Trebek.
— And the answer is “People who
dump others on Valentine’s Day.”
— What is “They suck, hard-core?”
Unsolicited love. Even if you’re alone
on Valentine’s Day, there’s always those
people who send you a valentine just
because they love you — be it mom, dad,
grandma or even cousin Ernie.
Here’s to all the people who send
cards to us single folks.
Next year send pom.
Love yourself! Just because you’re
alone on Valentine’s Day doesn’t mean
you should be depressed or sad.
What single people have on Valentine’s
Day is a chance to love themselves for a
change.
Take yourself out for dinner, go to a
movie and feel good about life.
Or, like any sane person would do, stay
home, rent “Heathers” and watch
Winona Ryder kill all the popular people
that treat her like crap.
Quote of the Day:
“How can you thank the person who
bought you your first pair of cowboy
boots or your first bird-dog puppy and
most everything else you have?”
— Hunter Towns, waxing rhetorical on
how to repay his mother on Valentine’s
Day.
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-tub years w fcoewne vttmuds cw me m/(e: HMJV/sai
Valentine’s Day without my girlfriend
A s everyone knows, today is
Valentine’s Day. My valentine
is halfway around the world.
Some might ask if I am feeling
lonely? Am I feeling depressed?
No way!
Today I declare I have found a
new love. My Valentine’s Day will
be spent with her.
Her name is Molly Brown, and
we’ve actually known each other
for a while now.
We were introduced Christmas
Day, 1999.
It could even be said our love
affair began then — a real-life
love-at-first-sight.
And here’s the kicker: My girl
friend Anslie knows! She even
encourages it!
There is so much to love
about Molly — her soft hair, her
passion for life.
And it is clear she has fallen
head-over-heels in love with me.
When I go over to her house
to see her, she bolts to my arms
as soon as I walk in the door.
She is so excited to see me
that she dances all around the
kitchen and squeals.
We do so much stuff together,
especially now that Anslie is out
of the way.
She loves to go running with
me. It’s a great time for bonding.
We go out to the intramural
fields, take an easy pace and talk
about what went on during the
day, what’s bugging us, etc.
It’s a great chance for me to
clear my head from all the pres
sure and frustrations "a student
journalist like myself deals with.
I often will look up to find
someone watching and smiling at
us as we pass them.
They can tell we are in love.
She also likes to take trips
with me. She loves to go to my
parents’ house to hang out with
my family.
Mom and Dad don’t know
what to think of her yet, but I
know they will come around.
It’s especially great when she
joins Anslie and me when we go
visit Anslie’s family.
We stay up late just snuggling
on the couch.
* Snuggling is what I love most
about my love affair with Molly.
I’ll go over to her house to
visit after a long day up at the
paper and we’ll go and sit in
front of the TV together.
She walks up close to me and
covers me in kisses.
She doesn’t miss an inch —
my eyes, my nose, my ears, my
hands, my mouth.
Sometimes we get a little ram
bunctious and we chase each
other around the house.
I’ll get her running around the
counter in the kitchen, race her
back to the living room, where
she will jump from couch to
couch and then I’ll chase her
outside into the back yard.
It’s amazing the energy she
has.
She wears me out so quickly. I
will inevitably retire to the couch
and then it’s back to the kisses.
I am not the only vulnerable
man upon whom Molly has cast
her spell — there is a lot of com
petition for her heart.
It got so bad between one
other suitor and myself we were
forced to settle who would be
Molly’s love in a winner-take-all
table tennis war.
I lost, but I refuse to give up.
Besides, Molly knows whose
heart is really true.
I am the only gentleman caller
who has ever given her a bath.
And I’ve given her several!
I would be crazy not to love
Molly. At times I think she is too
good to be true.
I look at it this way — she was
at least kind enough not to aban
don me on Valentine’s Day.
So Molly, I dedicate this col
umn to you this week.
I humbly ask for you to be my
valentine.
There is so much I love about
you and our life together.
You calm me down when I am
stressed out. You help me to
focus on what is truly important
in life. You make life worth living.
What must I do, my dear, to
let you know what I profess is
from my heart?
How much more must I wres
tle? How much more must I run?
How many more treats must I
deliver?
Oh, Molly, when I stare into
your soft, deep brown eyes, my
body goes limp and all I can
think about is your stunning
beauty.
When I knock on your door
this afternoon, will you still run
to me? Will you still dance? Will
you still squeal?
Molly Brown, will you still go
get your rope to play tug-of- war
with me.Will you still shake the
rope until I fear your brains will
fly out your ears?
I love you Molly.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
— Charles Shepard is a sports
writer for the Red and Black.
Molly Brown is Anslie’s dog. His
column appears on Wednesdays.
A romantic’s view of Valentine’s
T his year I’m taking a whole
new look at the blessed day
we call Valentine’s Day.
From as early as I can remem
ber, Valentine’s Day has been one
of those days that I looked for
ward to.
It held a sort of mystery or
excitement for me, even for the
years in high school when I
didn’t get a card or a call, much
less a date or a flower.
There was always a small
glimmering chance that it would
all work out and “boy wonder”
would call and whisk me away.
Don’t get me wrong.
Even in the years when the
boys didn’t pull through, my dad
always would.
That really did serve as a
comfort.
From as early as the age of
seven, I can clearly remember
Dad having flowers and stuffed
animals delivered to the house
for my sisters and me.
I knew I could always count
on him.
As a second grader, I remem
ber Valentine’s Day very clearly.
My mom was one of those bar
gain finders. She cruised the
Wal-mart gift card section the
night before, in order to find the
most heinous cards.
I would then be forced to give
the purple hippopotamus
Valentine’s Day card to all of my
classmates.
I had to make separate piles
of the cards first.
I placed all the generic “You’re
a hipp-ific pal,” valentines in one
pile.
The second stack was
reserved for the really mushy
embarrassing cards that urged
the receiver to be my valentine,
love me, come to the zoo to see
me.
You get the point.
I obviously couldn’t give those
valentines to the boys I didn’t
like — I had to be sure to only
give them to the special boys.
Not being the brightest of all
kids, I slyly signed them all
“Guess Who?”
This clever technique for pri
vacy didn’t exactly work.
You see, the other girls’ moth
ers must have been shopping at
Hallmark instead of at the Wal-
mart with my mother.
And unfortunately, the store
was apparently sold out of the
classy hippo valentines, leaving
my cards my mom bought for me
as unique.
Needless to say, I wasn’t con
sidered sneaky for long.
Then there were those years
of high school where I didn’t
have anyone — except my friend
Laura, that is.
She was always sure to draw
me a super cute — or super
cheesy — Valentine’s Day Card.
Sometimes she’d throw in
some candy or a balloon.
I never knew if this was a good
or a bad thing.
Sure, the gift made you feel
great that you had a friend so
willing to make you feel good.
But there was a down side
too.
I’d have to walk through the
hallways at school all day lugging
around this valentine, candy, and
a balloon while getting stares
from everyone else.
People would curiously ask
whom they were from.
I’d have to mutter under my
breath that they were only from
Laura.
At that point they’d smile that
“Isn’t-that-sweet smile,” and
deeply inhale their roses they
received from their valentines.
Regardless of all those years
of crappie Valentine’s Days, I still
always looked forward to Feb. 14.
My single friends grunted and
moaned about the stupidity of
the holiday.
They said that Hallmark
invented Valentine’s Day and
people are just pawns to corpo
rate business by participating in
it.
I would then argue with them
by saying that even though
Hallmark created all the hoopla
surrounding Valentine’s Day, it
has the meaning that it does
today because we have given it
that meaning.
Some people may read this
column and think I’m a real
romantic.
They’d be wrong.
I’m far from a romantic — but
I still think that Valentine’s Day
is a good thing.
This year won’t be my best
ever in the history of Valentine’s
Day.
But I’m still going to celebrate
it by renting a mushy chick flick
and settling down on the sofa
with some popcorn and friends.
Whether or not Hallmark
invented it, who cares?
What is the big problem with
a holiday that forces you to stop
your usual schedule and make
time for someone that’s impor
tant to you?
— Kristy Kellis is a junior in
consumer journalism.
Hunter Towns
▲
A valentine
shout out to
my mother
A s you know, I am not really
a sentimental person —
except when it comes to
my family and old people.
Sometimes I just get
caught up in the moment and,
to be honest, I usually just get
carried away and make a big
deal about nothing.
But this past Sunday, I
experienced one of these per
sonal breakthroughs that
actually means a great deal to
me, though I often forget just
how much.
On Sunday, I went down to
Waynesboro, quail hunting
with a good friend of mine.
It was on the drive back to
Athens when we both experi
enced this monumental
moment of emotion.
We were listening to classic
country jukebox on the Eagle
radio station.
As we drove along, we
heard a song that we hadn’t
heard in quite some time
called “Roses for Mama.”
Some of you may have
heard the song before and
know how sad it is. But for
those of you less fortunate, I’ll
tell you about it.
A man stops by a store to
send some flowers to his
mama on her birthday and he
sees a small boy trying to buy
some for his mother.
The boy doesn’t have
enough money, so the man
helps him buy the flowers. As
the man leaves town he sees
the boy at a graveyard placing
the flowers on his mother’s
grave.
After he talks with the boy,
he goes back to the florist and
tells them to cancel the order
and that he will take them to
her himself.
I’d be lying to you if I told
you a tear didn’t come to my
eye.
When my friend looked
over at me and told me “Turn
that damn station, man,” all I
could think about was how
much I love my mama and
how very seldom I tell her.
I felt sick.
There are so many things
to thank her for — where
could I even begin?
How can you thank the
person who bought you your
first pair of cowboy boots or
your first bird-dog puppy and
most everything else you
have?
Is there any way you can
properly thank a person for
taking you to the movies as a
child to see “Return of the
Jedi” or for buying you your
first Willie Nelson tape?
This type of gratitude just
can’t be put into words.
I mean I tell her I love her
every time we talk, but memo
ries like these would take me
23 more years to expound on.
I always kid my mother
about the old Johnny
Paycheck song called “I’m the
only hell my mama ever
raised.”
Through thick and thin,
she always has been there for
me when everyone else was
gone.
She often disagrees with
what I have to say and usually
disagrees with the manner in
which I say it — but she
remains my biggest fan.
The fact that she put up
with all my outrageous stages
and allowed me to grow up
and become my own person
along with the fact that she
has never given me any bad
advice, is why I believe my
mother is the greatest in the
world.
So on Valentine’s Day I
want to let my most special
love know just how much she
means to me. She is not only
my wonderful mother — she is
my best friend.
After all, she was the one
who first played cowboys and
Indians with me and never
minded being Darth Vader
when I wanted to be Luke
Skywalker.
Even now, when I am con
fronted with the Dark Side
and need help, I know Alamo,
my hometown, and mama are
just a phone call a way.
— Hunter Towns is a senior
in agricultural business. His
column appears on
Wednesdays.