Friday, February 09, 2007

Old-School Romance for Valentine's Day

My grandpa's been diabetic for as long as I've known him. His diet was further modified after his 6-way bypass when I was in college. Now he's on some sort of other diet for diabetic heart patients with renal failure.

I think by now he just photosynthesizes, mostly. He looks kinda green sometimes, anyway.

So when I went to visit him this afternoon, we just watched the Food Network together. He watches that Food Network all the time now. It used to be the Western channel. But it turns out the only thing Pop-Pop likes seeing more than cowboys killing Indians is watching overzealous women make foods he hasn't truly tasted in twenty years.

"They always gotta moan whenever they taste something, see that?" he says. "Who makes that noise when they eat something? I've been eating for 87 years, never heard anyone carry on like that before."

All these cooking shows were okay by me. I needed a few recipes for a Valentine's dinner, which I've been dreading. Truth be known, I am not a big fan of the holiday in general.

When I don't have a Valentine, it's kinda crappy. When I do, it's not that I'm ungrateful for the company. Nothing, to me, says romance quite like conjuring up something spontaneous and magical to fit silent, possibly gargantuan expectations on a pre-designated day.

I'm sure Punxutawney Phil likes going outside for a stroll in the snow, but there's something about doing it in front of TV cameras and a brass band that probably takes the joy out of it. So yeah, I got some performance anxiety. Conclude away, readers, and I'll thank you to stop smirking before you leave your little comments.

I asked Pop-Pop "How do you feel about Valentine's Day? What do you and Daro (my grandma, her name was the first word out of my mouth) usually do?"

"Well," he said, "we like to go to the card store and pick cards out for each other. She gets one she'd like to give to me, and I pick one out I think works for her. Then we trade 'em and read 'em to each other."

"That's really nice," I said. "What happens after that?"

"Oh, we put 'em back on the shelf and go home," he said. "No sense wasting all that money for Valentine's Day."

Couldn't have said it better myself, really.

Labels: , , ,


At 8:49 AM, Blogger Kristin said...

I think I love your Pop-Pop. He sounds like a smart man.

At 11:36 AM, Blogger Rothko10 said...

I've never met anyone else who called their grandfather "Pop-pop." I used the same name.


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home