Love Only What Can Love You Back
The Four Aces or Four Lads are singing “Love Is A Many-Splendored Thing” on my favorite station as I write this.
A friend said, “Don’t love anything that can’t love you back.”
Do we love our possessions? Our careers? Our high-end vehicles? Our for-the-moment trophy spouses and/or Significant Others?
The first three can’t love us back and the last one may well be questionable. Does this S.O. really love you, or is it a hook-up of convenience? Sometimes you have to wonder.
Two famous persons committed matrimony until death did them part, but they’re still alive after their 55-hour marriage fell apart. I think we can safely assume love was not part of the equation; whatever drew them together wasn’t significant enough to make a widow or widower of the would-have-been survivor.
Pity. We keep our cars longer than that and they can’t love us back. We admire them, we take care of them, but in the end they are just a collection of steel, wires, plastic and glass which end up in Honest John’s Used Car Lot, later at Joe’s Scrap Yard and, finally, recycled into bicycles, airplane serving carts and nails.
If it doesn’t love you even more after 50 years, forget it.
A friend said, “Don’t love anything that can’t love you back.”
Do we love our possessions? Our careers? Our high-end vehicles? Our for-the-moment trophy spouses and/or Significant Others?
The first three can’t love us back and the last one may well be questionable. Does this S.O. really love you, or is it a hook-up of convenience? Sometimes you have to wonder.
Two famous persons committed matrimony until death did them part, but they’re still alive after their 55-hour marriage fell apart. I think we can safely assume love was not part of the equation; whatever drew them together wasn’t significant enough to make a widow or widower of the would-have-been survivor.
Pity. We keep our cars longer than that and they can’t love us back. We admire them, we take care of them, but in the end they are just a collection of steel, wires, plastic and glass which end up in Honest John’s Used Car Lot, later at Joe’s Scrap Yard and, finally, recycled into bicycles, airplane serving carts and nails.
If it doesn’t love you even more after 50 years, forget it.
posted by Tom Carten at 1:21 PM
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