Super Gold Oldies

I've been painting our den for the past couple of days. It is slow going when I have to work in 2 hour "nap" stints. And I'm doing it all with a brush so I don't have to rush clean up when I hear the pickle waking up. But it will be beautiful--Navajo White (who comes up with these names?) above the chair rail and Blonde below it. And while I've been doing it I've been taking advantage of Comcast's music stations on the TV. Super Gold Oldies. Oh, yeah.

In a lot of these oldie songs, there are lots of boys swooning over girls who apparently have lots of boys after them. "He don't love you like I love you" and the like. Who are these girls and how is it they get to have 2 boys loving them? I'm sure these are the same girls who have boys in fisticuffs over them in the school yard. Girls with names like Peggy Sue, Babs, and Joline. I am not, nor have I ever been, one of these girls.

I was always the buddy. Best friends with the homecoming queen, but still scrambling for a date for the dance. Many a late night phone call to a boy I had a crush on were spent devising plans with them to get K. or M. to like them. I often thought of telling them to date me as a plan of jealousy, but, being a good friend, I put in the good word. My favorite was when my mom would say, "Why don't you date A.? He's so cute and is always so polite?" Well, Mom, besides the fact that he is madly in love with M., he has yet to ever ask me out. Why don't you talk to him?

In college, I thought I was dating a guy named Chris. He was my next door neighbor and we did all the things couples did--hang out, make out, drive each other to class, etc. And then one day we were having lunch at El Rodeo (he paid), and he asked me if my roommate C. thought he was hot. "Umm, I don't know. We don't really talk about you that much." (Which was a lie. We talked about him and his various muscular body parts for hours on end.) He then went on to explain how he wanted to ask her on a date and if I could find out if she was interested. I was so taken aback by this that I wasn't even mad. Turned out that they did end up dating for about a year (you're welcome, Chris) and he went totally psycho on her. PSYCHO. (Sorry, C.)

And then there is Sloan. My sweet, wonderful Sloan. We met and fell in love in three days in Montreat at ARW. On our first date, which was very reminiscent of a Wonder Years episode (I spent the entire evening with my stomach in my throat and constantly feeling like I was about the pee in my pants), I explained the buddy problem. He didn't believe me. I said, "No really, I'm your go to girl if you want to be with the hot chick. I'm the ultimate wing man." And he simply said, "I'd look for you first." And the next morning at breakfast, sure enough, he did.

"I'd look for you first." I can't even begin to describe what it has felt like to be on the receiving in of the smile and nod that comes with being looked for first. It is the stuff that Super Gold Oldies are made of. Sometimes I am still amazed that the boy I like actually likes me back at the same time. I know. I know. It's kind of stupid and childish.

But you see, somewhere in Aberdeen (he's on a business trip), there's this boy I like. He's tall, has dimples, and a breathtaking heiny. And he's mine. And I'm his. And he looks for me first.