It seems, “the gentleman” have all disappeared; vanished before our eyes like the soft dew on a rose’s petal.
Last night a friend of mine was watching an old movie, Casablanca. Ah. A classic, love it. I could not help and think of all those beautiful, wonderful gentlemen of long ago. One of my all time favorite, Cary Grant. Tall, dark, smooth, funny, charming, and absolutely adorable. How about John Wayne? An incredible man tough and rough, but a pure gentleman with the ladies. These men were incredibly beautiful. The ultimate gentleman, a dying breed.
Recently, I went to a local sports bar with friends. We were standing by the bar surrounded by men sitting at the bar. Not one man would offer their seat. Not one. As a matter of fact, a couple of them were paying their bill and had finished; and still would not offer their seats. Doors are not opened for us anymore. Chairs aren’t pulled out at restaurants. The Boogies, Grants, Gables, and the John Waynes of days of old are extinct. We ladies are left with the luke-warm left-overs, at best.
Suddenly, I was jolted back to the future this past week. I was
leaving a local establishment with a “gentleman”. We were walking side-by-side; however, I was a step or two ahead of him. As we approached the door, he intersected and stepped in front of me. I was taken back and missed a step. I looked at him shocked as he reached for the door and opened it. “What are you doing?” I asked. He saw the shocked look on my face and flashed a dashing smile, “I’m being a gentleman. Is that allowed?” I fell on my ass!
I am left to ponder on the thought, have we women in our quest for equality given up the fringe benefits of being a lady?
Written by Lucy Tamajon
Writer
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Have Heart, Will Travel
This is a very special dedication to all of my friends afraid of "loviing". Don't be.
Back to romance, love, and what makes the world go around. In the last couple of weeks I have had a few friends call and/or e-mail me regarding “long distance relationships.” The question posed by all of them is, “I don’t know if I can handle a long-distance relationship?” My answer, “what’s to handle?”
Love is love. Distance is just an abstract perspective. When one of my girlfriends told me that her love was thousands of miles away and she wasn’t sure if she could handle being apart. She’s in Miami, he is in Spain; I said, “What are you talking about? He is just two inches away!” She looked at me like she has many times before; as if I had three heads and just landed from my home planet. “What?” I answered matter of factly, “look at a map, Miami is just two inches away from Europe.”
Point is that distance is just an abstract form of measurement. Once two hearts make a connection, the bond is there. Distance is irrelevant. You can be with a person on a daily basis, sleep in the same bed, eat at the same table, see them every day, and be “miles” apart emotionally and spiritually. The physical distance has no connection with the emotional distance.
What you are struggling with is the physical distance. In that case, you need to know that you do not have to touch or be with a person physically to experience love. Love is beyond all physical perspective. Therefore, to all my friends whom have a love that is “miles away”, I simply say, love without boundaries. Forget the physical and material world. It is a world created by your mind. Live for the moment that you are granted NOW. Do not look to the future because it is not promised to anyone.
Step outside your boundaries, love from the heart, and baste in the joy of that love. Do not pack a bag or luggage, it is not needed. Just take your heart and board a plane. For the bonds created by the soul supersedes all earthly components of what we perceive to be “love”.
Cheers!
Lucy Tamajon
Writer
Copyright ©Lucy Tamajon 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Love Letters
Recently we saw a movie where the topic of love letters came up. One of the characters was reading a book composed of love letters written by “famous” men to their beloved. Of course, we asked, “Have we ever gotten a love letter?”
Some of my friends automatically said, “yes, I think so, in High School.” Or, “I must have.”; Or, “I’m sure I have.” Naturally, I thought about it. Had I? I couldn’t remember. Now, I know I’ve gotten cards on Valentine’s day, but a “love letter?” I could not recall and if it was not memorable then it did not happen.
The art of letter writing is all but a myth. We now have texts and e-mails. How sad. Then I thought some more, of course. Would a text or an e-mail qualify as a “love letter?” I don’t think so. How could it? How romantic or how much emotions can one pour into a text? You can’t. Perhaps, an e-mail.
That led me to my next thought, “What was the most romantic and memorable thing a man had ever done?” Thankfully, there was a spark. I had a boyfriend in high school who every month on the 18th of the month would give me a single red rose. He did this so that I would never forget the day we started going out. For over a year and a half come rain or high water, where ever I was, he would stroll in holding a red rose. I did not think it romantic at the time. I thought it was “cute”. However, he succeeded. To this day, I remember.
Romance to men is trivial; to women essential. Romance makes our eyes sparkle and our faces light up. Every single time I saw him walk in holding that rose, I could only smile. “You light up.” He would say. “You are so silly,” was my response; but, he loved me and he wanted me to know it.
If you are wondering who he is, cannot say. We are still friends; we still talk; he is married and has a beautiful family; and, yes, on occasion tells me, “I still love you.” My response, “you are so silly.”
Cheers!
Some of my friends automatically said, “yes, I think so, in High School.” Or, “I must have.”; Or, “I’m sure I have.” Naturally, I thought about it. Had I? I couldn’t remember. Now, I know I’ve gotten cards on Valentine’s day, but a “love letter?” I could not recall and if it was not memorable then it did not happen.
The art of letter writing is all but a myth. We now have texts and e-mails. How sad. Then I thought some more, of course. Would a text or an e-mail qualify as a “love letter?” I don’t think so. How could it? How romantic or how much emotions can one pour into a text? You can’t. Perhaps, an e-mail.
That led me to my next thought, “What was the most romantic and memorable thing a man had ever done?” Thankfully, there was a spark. I had a boyfriend in high school who every month on the 18th of the month would give me a single red rose. He did this so that I would never forget the day we started going out. For over a year and a half come rain or high water, where ever I was, he would stroll in holding a red rose. I did not think it romantic at the time. I thought it was “cute”. However, he succeeded. To this day, I remember.
Romance to men is trivial; to women essential. Romance makes our eyes sparkle and our faces light up. Every single time I saw him walk in holding that rose, I could only smile. “You light up.” He would say. “You are so silly,” was my response; but, he loved me and he wanted me to know it.
If you are wondering who he is, cannot say. We are still friends; we still talk; he is married and has a beautiful family; and, yes, on occasion tells me, “I still love you.” My response, “you are so silly.”
Cheers!
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Our Lives in the Snap of a Flash
I have been sitting here looking at old photographs; smiling as I do so, crying at times, and wondering. Wondering about the people that have come, those that have gone, and those that remain. Wondering about the laughs we shared and the laughs we are sharing now. It’s great to look at the old cars, the clothes, the hair styles, and squinting as I stare at the picture and try to remember an old familiar face. “Oh! God, yes I remember.” We shout with excitement as if it was Christmas and we were opening a present.
When I was little, well maybe not me, I was always a ham; we, always got mad at our moms for snapping those pictures. We pouted and frowned, “stop it! No more pictures!” we’d scream, we’d stump our feet and walk away hearing her complain about how difficult we were. Now, we are digging through old boxes for a scrap of some old time memory; wondering what happened to that best friend we had in 6th grade; or that kid we had the crush on in 8th. We dig and hold on to the picture like if it was a life line; sometimes, speechless when we see the face of someone no longer with us; or, smile when we remember the words of a teacher that made an impact on our lives with us even knowing it.
We wish someone would have given us a “heads up” on life; maybe they did and we just didn’t listen. We wish we could have said something to someone at sometime, but we didn’t. We wonder about what we’ve done and haven’t done; and, in an attempt to recapture the carefree days of our youth, we reach out to those we shared so much with so long ago and hope they can somehow restore and heal some of lives hard knocks.
The days have turned into years; and the years have slipped through our fingers in a snap of a flash.
Here is to good friends and good memories, Cheers!
Friday, March 13, 2009
The First Note I Ever Wrote
All this chit chat about love notes, love letters, and my writing got me thinking. I know! Shocking, me thinking! I remembered the very first note I wrote which happened to be a “love” note.
I was six. His name was Luis (I'll leave last name out of note to protect the innocent)> We were all in the same class; first grade, Robert Waters School. He was funny, the class clown, and cute. Always made the class laugh, well, he made me laugh. Maybe, I was the only little girl laughing; but, I liked him.
So, I did what any six year old “sassy” little girl would do. I sat down, pulled out my crayons, some paper, and wrote my first “love note”. I remember it. It had a big red heart on it with little hearts all around it, and I boldly announced, “Lucy and Luis – Love 4 ever”. There. I was quite satisfied. I folded my note and tucked safely away in my book bag. The plan was to give it to him the next day.
The next morning, I was nervous, my heart was beating fast. What would he say? Would he like me? I fixed my pig tails, adjusted my glasses, ate my fruit loops, and I was ready to go! As I went to get my book back, I came to an abrupt halt. There in front of me, holding the school bag in her hand, and snooping as no one else can, was my mother! In her hands, the note! The horror; I flashed my smile.
I was six. His name was Luis (I'll leave last name out of note to protect the innocent)> We were all in the same class; first grade, Robert Waters School. He was funny, the class clown, and cute. Always made the class laugh, well, he made me laugh. Maybe, I was the only little girl laughing; but, I liked him.
So, I did what any six year old “sassy” little girl would do. I sat down, pulled out my crayons, some paper, and wrote my first “love note”. I remember it. It had a big red heart on it with little hearts all around it, and I boldly announced, “Lucy and Luis – Love 4 ever”. There. I was quite satisfied. I folded my note and tucked safely away in my book bag. The plan was to give it to him the next day.
The next morning, I was nervous, my heart was beating fast. What would he say? Would he like me? I fixed my pig tails, adjusted my glasses, ate my fruit loops, and I was ready to go! As I went to get my book back, I came to an abrupt halt. There in front of me, holding the school bag in her hand, and snooping as no one else can, was my mother! In her hands, the note! The horror; I flashed my smile.
Let me elaborate, my Cuban mother. Who proceeded to tell me how little girls never did such a thing! It was like a scene from Charlie Brown when the teacher is talking.. waah…waahh.. waahh. What the heck did I know? He was cute. I had something to tell him. What was the big deal? She confiscated the note. I was pissed. So, I did what I do best even at six. “Hmm.. I’ll teach her!”
Next day, I sat down, pulled out my crayons, and well, wrote note number two. This time, I had learned a lesson. I would have to keep the note away from the Gustapo. So I tucked it in my sock, put my shoe on, and walked safely to school to deliver the note. Which I did, and I knew he liked me so this note would inspire him to be extra nice to me.
However, I couldn’t understand Luis’ reaction? After, I snuck the note in his desk, and he read it; all he did was constantly pull my pig tails, poke me while I was on line, and be constantly borrowing my crayons. I just didn’t get it. I guess he just wasn’t that into me. Sigh.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
That's what Friends are For
It’s amazing to me how “friends” seem to wander in and out of our lives. I think this is okay. Sometimes, we have friends that last a life time. Sometimes, we have friends that last a week. I am okay with this. I understand the concept of friendship. We cannot talk to people all the time. We are busy adults. We are not 15 anymore and friendship means something more.
However, there are those so-called “friends” that are more like “leaches”. They hang on to us when the ride is good, when we are on top, when things are going are great. They make sure that you know that they are your friend by making comments like “you know I’m here”, but they are not the ones calling. Yet, when things were good, they were the ones calling you. They were the ones texting and leaving messages on the machine. Real friends don’t even have to say those words because we already know they are there because regardless of the situation that you are in, they call, they care.
It always makes me giggle when this happens because I understand that people come and go in our lives. They serve the purpose that they serve and that is ok. I understand that there are people that feed off others and really do not understand the concept of friendship at all. As long as you are picking up the tab, they are your friends. When you can’t pick up the tab, they move to the next table.
I understand that there are those that will be there forever. We do not have to speak every day. We have grown up; and, we understand the plight of life, the importance of friendship, and the meaning of love. Hats off to friendship in all its stages.
However, there are those so-called “friends” that are more like “leaches”. They hang on to us when the ride is good, when we are on top, when things are going are great. They make sure that you know that they are your friend by making comments like “you know I’m here”, but they are not the ones calling. Yet, when things were good, they were the ones calling you. They were the ones texting and leaving messages on the machine. Real friends don’t even have to say those words because we already know they are there because regardless of the situation that you are in, they call, they care.
It always makes me giggle when this happens because I understand that people come and go in our lives. They serve the purpose that they serve and that is ok. I understand that there are people that feed off others and really do not understand the concept of friendship at all. As long as you are picking up the tab, they are your friends. When you can’t pick up the tab, they move to the next table.
I understand that there are those that will be there forever. We do not have to speak every day. We have grown up; and, we understand the plight of life, the importance of friendship, and the meaning of love. Hats off to friendship in all its stages.
Copyright ©Lucy Tamajon 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
The Odd Lama on the Love Boat
Valentine’s Day is just around the corner and the excitement is titillating. Everyone is talking about special gifts, special dinners, special vacations, special cruises, special flowers, and romance is everywhere. Not that I don’t love Valentine’s Day, I do. I love love, but I could just puke.
Being single in Miami these days is not an easy task. Being single on Valentine’s Day is just brutal. Everyone is paired up, smooching, giggling, and letting us single women know how happy “couplehood” is. I feel like the odd lama on the Love Boat that can’t find her pair.
What is worse is that I get to hear from all my married and coupled-up friends not to mention family about how I shouldn’t worry that eventually “Mr. Right” will eventually come along. I get that “look”, you know the kind. That sympathetic look that really says, “What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you find someone?” Or, worse, they try to match me up with some friend of friend who is single and “very nice”. You meet him, he is middle aged, bald, has a beer belly from here to eternity, and then tells you that he’s looking for that “special feeling, looking for butterflies in his stomach, and that you are just a little too old.” You have got to be kidding me. It’s a Valentine’s Day Nightmare, and I have just had enough of this love fiasco.
Therefore, this year, my quest is to find a Valentine for next year for all us odd lamas. However, I am going to go out of my way to find and extra, special, sexy, out of this world man. A stud that I can flaunt proudly on my arm with a smile on my face from ear to ear. A gorgeous hunk of a man that will turn heads, make my married coupled-up friends, tumble over on their butts spilling their martinis as they do so; and make every bald middle aged man that turned me down gag on his Viagra.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you are in search of your lama the quest is on. I will travel from east to west, hit every club, happy hour, networking event, seminar, gallery, and festival. I will bring my readers along for the ride. Hop aboard the Love Boat, we are headed into unchartered waters. Are you in for the ride?
Cheers and Happy Valentine’s Day!
Published at the Savvy Times
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