This Mysterious Thing Called Romance

Romance is like pornography. We can't define it but we know it when we see it.

Or do we? Romance isn't one of those things that flaps in the wind like a flag. It isn't a frozen frame in a movie that shows two people walking in the park, holding hands, and kissing. That's a movie. It is a fantasy.

Maybe that's what romance is. A fantasy created by an invisible scriptwriter in the sky.

Some dictionaries define romance as a mysterious feeling of of excitement associated with love.

Well, okay, what is love? What is excitement? What is mysterious?

Are you beginning to get the message? Defining romance isn't easy. Maybe in the final analysis, romance is what we decide individually for ourselves.

We know what excitement is. There's that giddy, shaky feeling when we are near or when we touch someone we feel attracted to. We begin to breathe a little faster and a little heavier when we are near enough to feel the warmth of someone. Our heart rate increases when we touch lips.

What more do we need to know? Certainly, a complete and full understanding of the chemical analysis of love would not enhance our feelings. In fact, it might fix our minds on minute details to such an extent that we can't or don't want to, have fun.

Just imagine, you're lips have just touched your partner's. Suddenly, you visualize molecules increasing in heat intensity and jiggling around like Mexican jumping beans. You say to your partner, "Dear, did you know that the chemical composition of lip skin is 41 percent boric acid?"

Imagine the reaction. "Yeah, yeah. What's on Channel 69 tonight?"

I'm keeping my options open and defining it any way I want to. I don't give a rat's bun about Channel 69.

Is Romantic Music Still Alive?

This morning as I was driving to McDonald’s for breakfast, I started fooling around with the radio dial, wondering if the airwaves might be by some miracle carrying an easy listening station or two since I am usually not in the mood for screech and yowl music too early in the day.

Imagine my surprise when I came across the voice of Frank Sinatra crooning something, That Old Black Magic or Jeepers Creepers. I don’t remember at the moment. As a general rule, Frank is not one of my preferred balladeers. About the only song of his that I like enough to tolerate more than once is Once Upon a Time.

But this morning he seemed to strike a chord with me—in a quirky sort of roundabout way. Let me explain. Last night I tuned in to Larry King’s show for the specific purpose of watching Willie Nelson. During one of the breaks, Willie’s version of Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain filled some air time. I immediately thought of another cut on the same album, Remember Me When the Candlelight is Gleaming. That was one of my mother’s favorite songs and she hummed it incessant.

Then at the program’s end, Larry and Willie launched into a croaking duet of Stardust. This made for quite a mix. When Willie reaches for a high note, the result can often be a little ear-burn on the part of a listener, especially if his voice is amped up a little. Larry, on the other hand, can out basso any bull frog I’ve ever heard. The result was actually quite pleasant.

So, here we have a guy, Larry, a New Yorker who as far as I know, isn’t a singer, paired with the original Texas Outlaw, Willie, crooning one of the most romantic songs ever. And they did justice to it in an oddly masculine, beer drinking, campfire hugging male bonding event that only men can appreciate. Men are romantic after all.

At any rate, within this tangled skein of blood and tissue we call brain, I began to wonder about romantic songs in the various musical genres. There are all kinds and sorts of music—Classical, Traditional, Popular, Blues, Country, Western, Heavy metal, Hip hop, Jazz, Reggae, Rock, and probably some I’ve never heard of. Can we find a romantic song in each of these? Which genre or genres is regarded as the most romantic?

I have my own ideas, but those ideas will spring from my cultural background and fail to include thoughts about genres I am vaguely familiar with. Probably the most obvious example from my perspective is Rap. I have little if any knowledge about this genre. On the other side, the proponents of Rap will undoubtedly identify one or perhaps many rap tunes as romantic and omit tunes from the generation of Frank Sinatra.

What are your ideas and thoughts on this subject? What is your favorite romantic genre? Yes, Valentine’s Day is past but romance is alive and well year round.

p.s. I am not of Frankie’s generation. I’m a little further into the 20^th Century. From my point of view, Elvis is a better male singer of romantic ballads than anyone I’ve listened to. But for sheer hotness, you need to listen to Kiss of Fire by Georgia Gibbs. Are hotness and

A Bad Year for Romance

This hasn't been a good year for thinking about romance. Since my wife passed away, the furthest thing from my mind has been romance. I joined a Facebook support group about widows and widowers, and I notices that a lot of people in the group seem to be looking for someone to fill the void of a spouse's death. I established a Facebook friendship with several members but not for the purpose of locating a mate. I just wanted to see how others cope with the death of a spouse.

Occasionally, as I drive around, I'll listen to an oldies station that plays predominantly romantic music of my and my wife's early years and marriage. And the songs remind me how much I love her and the movies we often went to, like Love is a Many Splendored Thing, but sometimes my thoughts of the two of us together would remind me that she is gone forever from my Earthly life.

It has been ten months now. In the beginning, I spent my time with my family elsewhere. That helped a little to keep my mind away from myself. Perhaps eventually I'll think about romance, but for now, it's the furthest thing from my mind.

Can't Help Falling in Love

I saw Elvis Presley yesterday. At the Coco Palms Hotel on the Island of Kauai. That’s where the wedding scene at the conclusion of the 1961 movie Blue Hawaii was filmed.

My wife and I stayed at the Coco Palms for three days once upon a time. We weren’t there on a romantic sojourn. I happened to have a business conference in the Coco Palms and we decided that we’d spend some time looking around the island when no conference sessions were scheduled.

At check in, we were given a room on the second floor overlooking a moat and a grove of coconut palms. At first, I didn’t make a connection between the moat and the movie. I did mention to my wife that the place seemed oddly familiar, although I couldn’t imagine how I might have thought so. This was our first visit to Kauai and it was more than thirty-years after the movie was filmed.

I continued to worry about the moat’s familiarity until just by chance I opened a desk drawer beside the bed and saw a postcard with a picture of Elvis and his bride on a (for lack of a better description) moat boat surrounded by the wedding party, all dressed in the baroque wedding splendor of the times.

Fast forward to yesterday when the air and radio waves saturated us with stories about Elvis’s 75^th birthday accompanied by many of his greatest musical hits. I had an immediate flashback to Elvis standing regally next to his soon-to-be-bride with his rendition of the Hawaiian Wedding Song playing as the moat boat glided softly to the end of the moat where the two embraced.

This may well have been one of the more romantic moments in film history. Certainly, it made the Hawaiian Wedding Song one of the more popular songs at weddings in Hawaii and beyond. And in my mind, it reinforced my perception of Elvis as one of the best singers of romantic ballads in American popular music. He may have been the King of Rock and Roll but the versatility of his voice was something to marvel at, and in no song was that versatility illustrated more prominently than in the Hawaiian Wedding Song.

I like Can’t Help Falling in Love (With You), too, which I used to sing in my raspy, atonal, tuneless voice to my wife.

The Holiday Season Will be Lonely This Year

Without my wife, who passed away six months ago, the holiday season doesn't hold the meaning for me of past seasons. This is an empty time, devoid of happiness, filled with sadness. Certainly, there are no thoughts of romance in my mind and no feelings in my heart.

Yes, I have family, but, still, my beloved gave me courage and optimism. She was my courage and my heart. Without her, I am indecisive, hesitant, and fearful.

There were better times. My memories are filled with this beautiful young girl smiling as she walked toward me or caught my eye from a distance when we were separated by several aisles in a large department store.

We loved shopping for gifts for our children, taking great care to have an equal number and quality of Christmas presents for each on Christmas morning.

We enjoyed sitting across from one another in a booth in our favorite restaurant, having breakfast, drinking coffee, and talking.

There are so many more memories. I'll leave now. Remembering brings tears and sadness.

I'm (not) in the Mood for Love

If you've lost your loved one, you'll understand how difficult it is to feel romantic. Even when you're thinking about your life together, about how beautiful she was, how her eyes shone with starlight, and how her smile pulled you to her, the memories soon give way to reality. She is gone and she will never return.

How can a person move beyond the malaise of loss? I don't know. I've never experienced it before so there's nothing in my background to guide me. But I think about it a lot and I wondered today about goodbyes.

As I visualized scenes of past goodbyes, I began to formulate an idea. I finally phrased it this way:

Goodbyes are moments of revelation or illusion. In a reflective moment, we may wonder if the goodbye is permanent or if we may meet again someday.

Revelation occurs when we know with certainty that a reunification will never occur. Death is a prime example of revelation, although the revelation may not occur immediately.

Illusion is a state of mind dominated by fantasies and daydreams of an eventual reunification. When I think of this, I am reminded of an old song with a line or two that goes something like this:

We'll meet again, don't know where don't know when
but I know we'll meet again some sunny day.

When we say goodbye to a living person we can always hold out the hope that the person may return or we may go to them. But when we say our goodbyes to a departed individual, we know intellectually that unless we believe in an eventual reunification in heaven or in our version of heaven, we are in the realm of a very realistic revelation.

Sometime, if we are unable to separate the real (death) from the ideal (together forever in Heaven), we may exist in a twilight zone between revelation and illusion, alternating between states, existing in one state for a moment and then the other. I find myself in that twilight zone.

I don't know if we consciously choose these states or if the mind has a mind of its own. Those are matters for philosophers.

I don't even know if I will ever regain a sense of romanticism. The thought that I might look at another woman and feel the existence of a sense of romantic possibility, seems somehow unfaithful.

Maybe it's too soon after her departure. Only time and my moods will tell.

We Belong Together

I'm sitting around clicking my clicker up and down the hi def channels. It's one of my bad habits.

But tonight, a couple of programs filled with romantic music are drawing me. One is the movie La Bamba with Lou Diamond Phillips as fifties rock and roll phenom Ritchie Valens. Even though rock and roll was his basic style, Valens is also noted for a couple of romantic ballads.

One is Donna, a song he wrote for his high school sweetheart whose real name was Donna. The second is one of my all time favorites, We Belong Together. I still remember a couple of lines:

You're mine and we belong together
Yes, we belong together for eternity.

Tonight as I listened to it once again, I could feel the goose bumps rising. This has got to be one of the really all-time romantic ballads. I first heart the song in 1986 when the movie La Bamba was released. My wife and I saw it in a Kahala Shopping Center movie theater in Honolulu. We both loved it, and when I hear it, I think of her. If you've never heard the song, get it and listen. I think you'll like it.

The other program is a PBS Special about Italian-American singers and their music. Most of the songs are from the fifties, and oddly, most of the Italian Singers have Anglicized names. It seems that back in those days, the custom for anyone without a good old Americanized name was to adopt one for business purposes.

You may or may not know the following names, but all of them belong to Italian-Americans: Bobby Darin, Frankie Laine, Bobby Rydell, Connie Francis, Tony Bennett, Jerry Vale, Dean Martin, the list goes on.

Not all of the singers succumbed to Americanization, at least as far as names go. Some of the more popular singers retained their birth names in whole or in part. These included Frank Sinatra, Perry Como, Vic Damone, Juliis La Rosa, and a host of others.

But one thing is clear. Whether the Italian-American entertainers changed their names or not, they were universally top flight singers who produced some of the most romantic music ever. We'll never roll back the nusical clock. Music evolves, and each generation has its own version of romance and romantic music.

Still, you just can't beat the sentiments in We Belong Together. Let your mind and memories drift away for a moment and imagine you're in another era.

You're mine and we belong together
Yes, we belong together for eternity

You're mine, your lips belong to me
Yes, they belong to only me for eternity

I'm willing to bet you have a special person in your past or present who is that one special love you want to spend an eternity with. Am I right?

A Different Kind of Romance

Or is it?

You'll pardon me, I hope, if I descend into the murky depths of illicit affairs, which I take in this instance to mean sexual relations outside of marriage.

I'm thinking right now of South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford and his Argentine inamorata. Reports from Argentina have referred to her as a 43-year old professional woman of uncommon beauty. Sanford is 49, so the age range is in line with general expectations.

The element in this romance that strikes me as interesting is the appearance of the two. Given that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, we are, nonetheless, prone to accept reports that the woman is pretty darned good looking.

Sanford, on the other hand, altghough tall and with a commanding presence by virtue of that alone, doesn't have the face of a Hollywood idol. He has close-set eyes that some may describe as beady. And a long, narrow nose reminiscent of the noses of some species of lower primates.

As your typical generic Anglo-Saxon male, I am naturally prone to ask, "What does she see in that guy?"

In fact, when I look at Sanford's face, I am reminded of an old Mickey Gilley honky-tonk song, "The Girls All Get Prettier at Closing Time."

The song clearly suggests that a woman's attractiveness increases in proportion with the amount of alcohol consumed by the male. I hold that the rule also applies to women. The more booze a woman consumes, the handsomer a generic will appear to be.

I am not suggesting that Sanford's inamorata has to get loaded to engage in an affair with him. But Sanford surely must possess some sort of characteristic that transforms him into a desirabke male, a characteristic that acts on the female brain much in the manner of booze, a characteristic that casts a soft glow on his entire being.

In my judgement, power is that characteristic. As pudgy Henry Kissinger once said, "Power is an aphrodisiac." This once-Secretary of State ought to know. He used to squire some of Hollywood's most beautiful women around town.

And now, it seems, generic Sanford is the beneficiary of Kissinger's homily. If only the rest of us plain folks were as fortunate. Sigh.

Sex Scandals and Romance

I once read that people who have illicit affairs often look back on their affair partner with fond memories and a sense of romanticism even years after the affair has ended.

There's undoubtedly a grain of truth in this, but I wonder if individuals who suddenly become notorious when their affair with a public figure become public will look back years later and say, "Boy, that was the best sex of my life."

Somehow, I kind of doubt this little scenario. The glare of publicity can often create enemies out of lovers, as each participant in an affair attempts to distance him or herself from the other. This is especially so when one or both of the participants is a politician. And if the affair began as a romantic attachment rather a mere roll in the hay, the public figure is even more likely to disclaim his or her partner just to assure political survival.

These thoughts came to mind today after I read an on-line article about "San Francisco's Top 10 Sex Scandals."

Among others, the list included liaisons from as far back as the 1870's, but one from 1983 caught my attention. I vaguely remembered reading about it but had totally forgotten until today. In a nutshell, a man and a woman, both apparently employees of a club, decided to have a little after-hours sex. Not unusual, but they opted to hop on the top of a piano. Apparently, without conscious awareness, one or the other tripped a hydraulic lift, and as they rode their heavenly vehicle to Nirvana, the piano crushed the man against the ceiling, killing him and leaving his female partner somewhat the worse for wear. I would say that this incident proves men and women will rise to any height for romance.

More recently, the case of the Mayor of San Francisco shows that not even friendship can dampen a romantic attachment. The mayor engaged in an affair with the wife of his best friend, which probably isn't unusual. But in this case, the best friend was Newsom's deputy chief of staff and campaign manager, and the cuckold's wife was Newsom's appointments secretary. This case is filled with quirks, not the least of which is the attendance of all three at the same time at a sexual harassment training session. Many in San Francisco are convinced that this was a hot romance that was cut short because of Newsom's political ambitions. The story goes that Newsom would need a socially acceptable wife rather than his appointments secretary. Decide for yourself.

And in the matter of romance and sex scandals, can romance survive a public scandal? Maybe. Who knows.

Surviving

I haven't quite been in the mood to write lately. My wife has been through a series of illnesses and mishaps, and we have spent a good deal of time in the hospital with her.

She's home now, but she still requires physical rehab to get her muscles back in shape, as well as our close attention to her needs. We are optimistic at this point.

I'm sure most of you have experienced the illness of a loved one, and during those trying times, thoughts of romance have been placed on hold. That's pretty much how I feel right now.

However, we'll eventually return to the frame of mind that generated thoughts of the way romance used to be. As I mentioned, we're optimistic.

'Til then (a Mills Brothers tune), our posts will be sporadic.

Is Romance Dying?

Of course not. But the overt signs of romance are declining along with the economy. Sales of cards, flowers, and candy are down. But the inner self, where romance really resides, is alive and well. Don't fret. Learn to live frugally, like the Amish. Romance is best encouraged by person-to0-person contact. Walk up to your loved one or maybe-loved one and just say, "I love you." You have nothing to lose, with the possible exception of your fear and embarrassment at revealing your feelings. Love means never feeling embarrassed!

Romance in Hi Def

I watched Must Love Dogs starring Diane Lane last evening. I first saw her in Lonesome Dove in the role of a hooker with a heart of gold. That was 1989, twenty-one years ago when she was a youthful twenty-three. In Must Love Dogs, she was thirty-nine and still retained her basic beauty.

Only last night, on my 46-inch high definition television, a few lines and tiny sags were visible. And that set me to wondering if the advent of hi def will have an effect on romance on the tube. I mean, here we have these aging but still beautiful women and handsome men filling the room with every pore magnified. How will that play with an American audience that demands perfection, either natural or artificial?

The future is unpredictable, but one thought popped into my mind. Hollywood's make-up artists may have to develop new ways of hiding blemishes from those umpteen million pixels that record with accurate detail everything withing range. That may be a tall order.

But, then again, if we begin to see these icons of physical perfection as ordinary mortals like us, perhaps our standards of beauty will become more realistic. Is that possible? Can we accept two average-looking people engaged in hot romantic scenes?

I look for digital enhancement rather than makeup as a solution. Romance demands illusion, and I am sure Hollywood stands ready to honor our desires.

What are your thoughts?

Western Romance Novels

If there's anything I like to read it's a good Western romance story. I used to like them set in the old West, but now, stories about the modern West are my preference. And no one is better at the latter than my favorite author, Jeannie Watt.

Jeannie has a new modern West novel slated for release in February 2009. It's titled A Cowboy's Redemption and already I like it. In the first place, the cover has a cowboy and a girl nuzzling and the two fit my imagined perfect partners to a tee. In my mind, the cowboy is me and the girl is the spitting image of the girl I have dreamed about for years.

And they're leaning on what looks like a beat-up old pickup truck. Men like pickups, so they'll be drawn to this book right away. And women like men who drive pickups. How's that for capturing an audience?

But that's the marketing department at Harlequin Superromance. What about the good stuff, like the plot and the characters? Secrecy is the name of the game in the publishing business. The plot of this book hasn't been revealed yet, but if Jeannie writes true to form, it's going to be filled with twists and turns with a surprise ending. She's good at keeping her readers' eyes glued to the page.

However, despite the secrecy, I've managed to dig up a hint of what's to come. The front cover of the book includes a single descriptive sentence: "He won't let her family ruin him... again." Already I'm interested and in my demented imagination, I'm trying to fill-in the blanks. But on reflection, I'll wait for the book to hit the book stores. Jeannie is very talented at surprusing her readers.

The book is available for pre-order from Amazon.com, as well as from a British outlet that I ran across by accident called Fantastic Fiction. I know that the Brits have always liked to read about the American West and they've been enthralled with the cowboy image of America in general. I'll bet Jeannie has a nice number of readers over there.

By the way, the main difference between Old West romances and Modern West romances is simple to figure out. If you've read some Old West romances, you'll notice right away that they didn't have sex in the old days. The cowboy kissed his horse and rode off into the sunset.

Doesn't work that way in 21st Century America. Men don't run around kissing pickup trucks and then burning rubber across a rolling prairie.

Okay, I've Read Cop on Loan

And also reviewed it on Amazon.com

This is a nice light mystery-romance and it would fit well on film or television, with the right actors, of course. As usual, Jeannie has just the right dialogue, and in Cop on Loan, she spiced up the story with a couple of pets with original names. I liked Ghengis Khat who belonged to Jasmine, the main female character. Originality at play here, and in her selection of a moniker to describe the Great Dane belonging to Tony, the male lead, she crafted Muttzilla.

In her choice of characters, Jeannie used the “opposites attract” equation. Jasmine Storm is an attractive librarian in small town in Washington state. Tony DeMonte is a jaded big-city cop from Seattle on loan to the local police department. Jasmine is the nice, neat personification of the stereotypical Miriam the Librarian whereas Tony is a scruffy Italian guy with curly black hair.

The two protagonists meet in a back alley behind the library as Jasmine and her boss sit in a car at night in an attempt to find out who has been breaking into the library. Tony and his partner are in the same alley on a stake-out to nab some drug dealers. The detectives mistake Jasmine and her boss for the dealers and confront them with guns drawn. The two are off to a rocky start.

Things don’t improve much when we learn that Jasmine has her own mystery to contend with. Someone has been entering her home for mysterious reasons and in the process, somehow letting out Genghis Khat. Jasmine becomes frightened and speaks to Tony about it. He’s your classic disbelieving cop, however, and doubts her story. But since he is about to be ejected from his own lodgings, he sees an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, rent Jasmine’s basement and alleviate her fears over her mysterious visitor.

Okay, no more from me. You’ll need to buy the book and read it for the unexpected resolution of both mysteries. You’ll be surprised at Jeannie’s original ending, not only her revelation of the identity(ies) of the culprit(s), but perhaps of more importance to readers of romances, the equally novel surprise ending to Jasmine’s and Tony’s love story.

Paul Newman, 1925-2008

Paul Newman is one of those actors we instinctively like. I use the present tense "is" because he made so many movies, one of them is bound to run on television in perpetuity.

I'm working from memory here, but I believe The Silver Chalice was his first big hit. Since then, his output has continued at a steady pace year after year.

We all have our personal favorite, but mine is Cool Hand Luke, followed closely by Hombre and then Hud. He filmed others with a one-word title beginning with "H" but I don't remember any of them. Maybe Harper was one. Hmmm,

I also liked Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Out of that one came the romantic Burt Bachrach song Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head, one of my favorites.

Paul is also well known for his variety of salad dressings, Newman's Own. My favorite is vinegar and olive oil. Just thinking about it makes me want a nice fresh salad.

Oh, and I think I'll dig through some old stuff. Somewhere around here, I have that "Raindrops" song.

Okay, keep on working in Heaven, Paul. The place could use sense of humor,

The Tender Years

Isn't that a line from a song in the movie Eddie and the Cruisers? Hmmm. I don't remember exactly. But it seems like a title that fits this post.

Do you remember your favorite songs and artists from your teen years?

Boy, I'm moving back in time here, and with the state of my memory these days, my "teens" will probably include more years than just the six between ages 12 and 20. But here goes anyway.

I think my first favorite romantic ballad was That's My Desire by Frankie Laine. I don't remember many of the lyrics anymore, but if push comes to shove, I have a vinyl with the song on it stashed somewhere in a dusty storeroom.

Then the Mills Brothers caught my attention with Till Then. Those guys were smooth, and listening to them on the radio as we drove around was about as good as it gets.

Somehow, things seemed to move rapidly after that and my head is filled with artists and songs that I haven't thought about in a long time, people like Johnny Ray, Buddy Clark, Don Cornell, Georgia Gibbs, and a host of others.

Those were romantic times, but they weren't the end of romantic music. In the fifties, we listened to songs like Love is a Many Splendored Thing, The Great Pretender, Only You, Kiss of Fire, My Special Angel, Band of Gold, holy smoke, I'm running out of brain power.

To be honest, I also found a good deal of romance in the music of the Beatles, even though they came along when I was a little older (not much, though, and not too old). I still love Yesterday, not to mention I Give You All My Love.

And who could forget Patsy Cline's Crazy and Walking After Midnight. Or Roy Orbison's classics, Pretty Woman and Lonely?

I could go on and on about my own "tender years," which as you can easily tell, have extended across a couple of decades and are still going strong.

But, hey, how about yawl? You have your own memories, right? Feel free to share them with everyone. We all love romantic music.

Okay, where's my Eddie and the Cruisers soundtrack?

Cop on Loan

That's an enigmatic title for a book, isn't it? But all will come clear when you read Jeannie Watt's latest superromance novel by that title.

You've heard me say this before, but Jeannie is one of my favorite writers and I eagerly look forward to her latest effort. I fully anticipate a top-flight read when the book is released in October 2008. I'm definitely getting my advance order in ASAP.

In the meantime, you can learn a little bit about the story from Jeannie's website and from an excerpt from the novel at eHarlequin.

Men (especially me) aren't good at summarizing the words of others. We tend to re-state in the male jargon, which sometimes alters an author's meaning. Suffice to say, then, that Cop On Loan is about a big city cop on loan to a small town police force for 30 days, where he meets a library technician under mysterious circumstances.

He rents her basement, another oddity that Jeannie makes clear later, and matters proceed from there. This is a Superromance novel which holds out the lure of a mystery, a slant sure to appeal to men. That's all I'm gonna say until I read the book.

Okey, dokey. Have a good read.

The Elements of Attraction

What are the characteristics of a male that females find attractive?

I'm a man but I have no idea. Occasionally, I'll get a hint when reading a novel. Authors seem very coy on the subject, probably because they don't want to reveal everything at one time. That's the way good authors work.

A few of the characteristics authors mention seem to me to be mere accidents of genetic chance, a green eye here, narrow hips there, long and muscular legs. And on more than one occasion, I've seen references to a man's "rippling muscles as he opened a jar of stubborn olives."

And then there are the sparkling white teeth against a light tan and a face of planes and angles.

All of this puzzles me because I've seen beautiful women hanging on the arms of men who deviate quite drastically from the standard. Henry Kissinger, Nixon's rather pudgy Secretary of State, is a prime example. He was often potographed with beautiful Hollywood stars hanging on his arm. He observed that power is an aphrodisiac.

My point is that women seem to be drawn to male characteristics other than physical appearance. Men are "hot" for different reasons.

That's about as far as I've gone in my research into attractiveness. I'll try to cover the characteristics of females that men find attractive. I have a hunch that physical appearance will overshadow intangible factors like kindness and consideration.

Okey, dokey. Feed me your ideas.

Romance is Where You Find it

What in the world might Sarah Palin have to do with romance? You know Sarah, right? John McCain selected her as his running mate for the upcoming presidential election.

Okay, we have the background out of the way. What's romantic about Sarah? Leave it to me to make the connection. And it's a doozey of a connection.

But first, let's eliminate some possibilities.

• She isn't romantic because she's the Governor of Alaska.
• She isn't romantic because she's been married twenrt years and has five children.
• She isn't romantic because she played hig school basketball.
• She isn't romantic because she worked beiefly as a newscaster.
• She isn't romantic because she was Second Runner Up for Miss Alaska
  
• She isn't even romantic because she's a stunner.
  

No, boys and girls, she is romantic because she is--ta da--photogenic. And you all know what that means. The camera is very kind to her.

That means she'd make a heck of a good model.

She would especially make a top model for the covers of romance novels.

See, I told you my mind works in innovative ways. I see connections where no man or woman has gone before.

We need more originality like this in the world of romance. If we put out minds to it, we can find romantic connections in just about anything.

Well, I will admit it's kinda hard to grasp the romantic connection between a modern East Coast, upper-class, long-legged, lanky Fifth Avenue blond and a cowboy just in from the range after a day of socializing with cows and horses and their--shell we say--natural emanations and residues.

The theme of love between a cowboy and a cowgirl enused to the natural aromas of ranch life is perfectly understandable. But a snooty Park Avenue lady? Well, that bears thinking about.

Okey, dokey. Any crazy romance connections you want to share?

To Each His Own

Besides being the title of an old romantic ballad played and sung by Eddie Howard in the forties and fifties, the title as used here is a reflection on a post by Grace Scott, my partner in this blog.

A couple of posts back, she made the point that romance is in the mind of the person who defines it. Each person decides what the word "romance" means to him or her. I agree wholeheartedly with Grace and just for the heck of it, I thought I'd jot down some thoughts on the way I view romance without attempting to define it.

First, I think most people believe that women are more romantic than men. Women are supposed to be romantic by nature whereas men are thought of as pragmatic get-it-done types with little time for romantic interludes. This belief may or may not pass the holds-water test. I suggest that women are more open about their romantic feelings than men because male culture tends to dampen overt signs of romanticism. Male peer pressure is very powerful. No man wants to be thought of as weak or sissified or feminine. But that doesn't mean men lack romanticism, merely that they aren't as open about it as women. I would argue that some men are highly romantic, some are not. As Grace says, it's an individual thing.

I also have observed generational differences in perceptions of romance. For those who care to listen to the music of past generations, they may be struck by the lack of overt and blatant sexuality in the tempo and lyrics of music in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. That doesn't mean sex didn't exist then, merely that it wasn't flaunted in public as it often is today. Softness seems to give rise to romantic feelings whereas much of the music and lyrics today seem focused on sex. In my judgment, there is romantic sex and then there is sex for the sake of sex. I may be wrong about that, but I perceive a good deal of sex for the sake of sex today with an added element. Many people today seem proud and unashamed of their encounters, even keeping track with Excel spreadsheets. I'm old fashioned about this, certainly, but I see no respect for the other person in these sorts of activities and certainly no romance.

My third an final observation concerns concepts of romance in different cultures. Not all societies and cultures share the American version of romance. Some cultures, like Japan, still, even in this modern era, encourage arranged marriages and discourages romantic engagements. But oddly, within this framework, romance thrives in such beliefs that gray hair is a desirable romantic commodity in a man. A man in Japan with a streak of gray hair is referred to as having "romance gray." In the Philippines, music is a predominant vehicle for the encouragement of soft romance. The music of the Philippines is largely the music of Spain and it is centered around romantic ballads. Filipinos love to dance and we all know that dancing is a sure fire enhancement of a romantic relationship.

Okay, these are my thoughts on romance. What are yours? Let us know your opinions about romance and about your own romantic stories.