I finally had a chance to read "How to be Romantic" out loud with Dave last night. LOL, what a masterpiece. Sam's featurette is one of those things that continues to improve when imbibed in the presence of your beloved; it's just like an open bottle of Château Mouton Rothschild '89 or some other fine mood enhancer. Naturally, there are a few points we could expand and comment upon when dealing specifically with Romance, which I would like to address here.

Sam writes:
> Why do you think blenders and toaster ovens are so notoriously unromantic?

This is a classic observation. Blenders are distinctly unromantic, and so are microwaves. So it may come as a surprise that I disagree that 'toaster ovens' are in the unromantic category. Not so! Toaster ovens are smaller versions of large ovens, and they glow a cheery inviting red whenever you turn them on. Just follow Sam's impeccable reasoning: they are smaller, which makes them cute; the elements glow red and warm, with passion; those same coil elements are squiggly, which gives the toaster a fancy flair; and they are totally impractical for heating up cute frozen canapés, like Cracked Salmon with Chocolate Escargot au Foie Amandine, which you'd ordered-in in a valiant attempt to look classy. Therefore toaster ovens are definitely romantic, especially to modern gals on a raging geek streak.

Now, if you wanted to sufficiently demonstrate what 'unromantic' is involving you and an appliance, I suggest you try the following: take two raw eggs, throw them into the microwave, set it on HIGH for 5 minutes, then call your dearest over and fervently announce "Here's what your brains look like on druuuugs..."


> Remembering Birthdays and Anniversaries
>
> Remembering your beloved's birthday and your anniversary isn't so much romantic as it is a stay of execution, for surely you'll forget someday, and when you do, you'll find out how not romantic cold shoulders and tears are. Your safest bet is to find someone whose birthday is on Christmas, then marry her on New Year's Day, because nobody forgets those days.

That would explain Sam's stolid suggestion to get born on Christmas or New Year's, or somewhere between the two. It makes things easier to remember all around. Then make sure to get married on the Fourth of July.


Regarding Sam's advice for proposing whilst Dining out, he writes--

> Then again, perhaps your fiancee is not quite as studios as you are. Perhaps she is something of a "party girl," as those who enjoy swift punches from zealous feminists might say. Perhaps she would prefer to share such a wondrous moment with a dozen or two of her very best friends.[1]

A large clutch of female friends, like a dozen or so, is called a "hen party". There's a good reason for that phrase. The experience is like Bawk-bawk-bawk-brrKAWK!! Makes it difficult to strike a romantic mood...

Small hint: don't fling that term "hen party" around militant feminists, if you value your life.


> In that case, I would recommend taking her and a small throng of her friends out to a fine, elegant restaurant -- the kind where there is a different waitperson for each course and three for the wine. Sometime between the Chicken Teriyaki Vinaigrette Caesar Salad a la Mode and the Fettucini Tortenilli Lamborghini Schnitzel Alfredo on the Rocks,[2]

I always thought 'Tortenilli' was spelt Tortellini... Unless you're subscribing to the school of Willy-nilly...


> clear your throat to get everyone's attention.[3] ...

Clearing your throat at the dinner table is never romantic. Nor is making sounds with any type of bodily secretions. Instead, may I repectfully suggest you burst harmlessly into blue flame at the same moment the Sambucca is lit. That'll be sure to grab attention :-)


Incidentally, how come Sam didn't mention Lt. Worf's foolproof, timeless method of romantic proposal: you bonk your beloved's head against the wall a few times to really get her attention, then read her Klingon love poetry in impassioned sonorious overtones?

Wolfspirit