Editors' Note: From time to time, we get submissions that we'd like to think are tongue
in cheek -- from readers with a fairly twisted sense of humor. We certainly HOPE this is one of them!
Lately, I've been hearing a lot from my new lady friend about some kind of miracle cure made of flowers.
She thinks they'd help me get over my wife's death. Rose died about a year ago -- my childhood sweetheart and wife
of 40 years. I don't mind admitting it was tough, watching her suffer with the cancer for three years and nursing
her night and day. And I've missed her every day since, but I don't see how flowers are going to help me get
over her. The only thing flowers make me think of are Rose's flower garden, and the vases of roses and sweet peas
she always had all over the house. And, too, they put me in mind of the funeral, with the church piled high with
bouquets from the ladies in Rose's garden club. I don't think that's quite the effect this new gal is shooting
for -- she's a bit too eager to close the deal for my tastes, if you know what I mean.
And, anyway, I'm doing just fine without going to anybody for help. I've still got my poker buddies,
and we have a night out once a week and meet for coffee a couple mornings. We have ourselves a ball,
same as always, whooping it up and telling lies. These pictures are ones I took with my new digital camera.
See for yourself... do we look like we're over the hill and needing some new-fangled flower folderol?
Or do we look like we've still got all our marbles? The only one of us I worry about is Billy -- he's the one with the tattoos -- but
then Billy never was wrapped too tight.
So anyhow, Sal -- that's the gal pal -- thinks it would help me to take Bleeding Heart. Hey, my ticker's
just fine, thank you very much! The doctor says it will last another 30 years or 100,000 miles,
whichever comes first. And Sal says Forget-me-not would help me get over these painful memories.
Now I ask you, how would Forget-Me-Not help a person forget? Female logic, apparently.
Then, too, Sal seems to think I have a fear of intimacy and I need to take Sticky Monkeyflower.
There's nothing wrong with my plumbing that a little encouragement wouldn't overcome, if you know what I mean.
Or, worst case scenario, one of those little blue pills I get so many emails about.
Plus there's this magic elixir in a bottle from Australia called Wedding Bush that's supposed to help me get
over my fear of commitment. I wouldn't call it a fear, exactly, it's more like self-preservation. You wouldn't
believe how many ladies over at the senior center are all over me, bringing me homemade cookies, asking me over
for dinner, and brushing up against me every chance they get. After 40 years of marriage, maybe it's time for
me to be a bachelor for a while. (Say, you don't think it's some kinda love potion Sal's trying to give me, do you?)
I told her she needs to take some flower drops of her own so she'll
chill out about getting hitched. That kinda ticked her off -- how come women get to tell you everything
that's wrong with you but can't take it if you point out a few of their shortcomings?
I've tried to let Sal know, politely as I can, that I'm not interested in having her
make me over. I certainly don't need to go
to any bereavement group and sit around and mope with other widows and widowers about how great the good old days were.
I'm perfectly fine the way I am,
and I'm definitely not sold on those flower do-hickies of hers. I told her nobody but sissies eat flowers, but she says
it's not really flowers; it's their essence, whatever that means, preserved in brandy. Well, brandy's a ladies'
drink as far as I'm concerned. Now, if you floated flowers in a couple shots of Crown Royal Special Reserve
-- the whiskey that goes for about
$50 a bottle -- you probably wouldn't
get too much guff from me. But flower remedies? NAH!!!
Editors' Note: If Roger's rant struck you funny, you might enjoy seeing our Virtual booklet of
humorous essence pieces
here. If Roger aggravated
you to the point that you had to hit the refrigerator, forget it. Too close to home, we'd wager. Or for some REAL articles about REAL men who use essences, see our
special
theme issue devoted to the topic.
DESIGN CREDITS: This page was designed by Deborah Bier and Donna Cunningham; photos are from Clipart.com.
The World Wide Essence Society does not mean to imply any recommendation of nor give certification to any individuals or companies above. This article is provided purely for informational purposes. We ask consumers to make their own determination as to quality of the services and products offered above. This article is not meant to be advice, and the information is not meant to replace medical or psychological treatment.
