What an awesome, marvelous song from one marvelous Marvin Gaye. Who remembers this man’s music? I never listened to him much in the past. I was more into Teddy Pendergrass and George Benson. I still get goose-bumps every time I here Mr. Pendergrass’s duet with the late Whitney Houston. Her music brings me to tears too sometimes. Who remembers her great covers of George Benson’s The Greatest Love?
And who remembers her cover of Country and Western singer Dolly Parton’s I Will Always Love You? Why Dolly Parton had to go and have all those nip and tucks done to her I shall never know. I think she was cute and cuddly just the way she was before. That reminds me of another beautiful love song by Billy Joel.
I Love you just the way you are.
Anyway, The Bodyguard wasn’t a really good film to my mind but if you have romantic notions like I do sometimes then you don’t mind feeling all warm and fuzzy inside whenever your dream bodyguard scoops you up and rescues you from trouble. Those who were fans of Whitney Houston’s music before must have been moved to tears when Kevin Costner delivered his moving tribute to his former partner in film.
I was anyway. Am I writing about love or what? I wanted to spend a bit more time on the subject of reading about love. Love is such a broad topic and it goes way, way beyond romantic love, doesn’t it. I had a girlfriend some years ago who made a confession to me. When she told me this story, she seemed quite embarrassed about it. After listening carefully to her late night reading habit, I asked her; what is there to be embarrassed about.
As a young girl in her late teens and early twenties, she used to stay in a very small apartment with her mom and a few other siblings. Young and restless then, I guess, she used to pull out her favorite Mills and Boons or Barbara Cartland paperbacks and get reading at her bedroom window with only the street light outside as her reading lamp.
So you were fixated on fantasizing about romance, I said to her. What’s there to be embarrassed about, I asked her. At least she was reading. That’s more important than anything else. It does not matter what you are reading, at least you are reading something. Even now, I think to myself that I may have come off as being a bit patronizing towards my old friend, mainly because of my profession as a writer.
As a writer, you have to be reading a lot anyway. So, if you are one of those who enjoy reading romance novels, go right ahead and enjoy the moment. I’d like to recommend that you try out Joanna Trollope’s novels (she’s written dozens) and those of Catherine Cookson (she’s written even more). These ladies, I think, wrote a little more realistically on the subject of romantic love.
I have much to get through in regard to reading matter. So, to help me on my way both personally and professionally, I’ll stay a while longer with the classic works of Jane Austen and the poetic works of Sylvia Plath and her husband, Ted Hughes.
You can choose your friends, but you cannot choose your family.
When I think about it, I did not always choose my friends. Young, free-spirited but still quite lonely, there was