I interrupt your Valentine’s Day for an unusual Saturday post from Connective Tissue. I didn’t want to interrupt you, because I know many of you are sneaking the conversation hearts from your kid’s goodie bag that they got at yesterday’s school party. But this is important, so stop looking for the heart that says “UR mine” and pay attention.
I need to talk to you about something that has derailed many a relationship. An issue that has threatened dating couples and married couples alike. A vicious saboteur that has robbed intimacy from men and women since the beginning of history.
I’m talking, of course, about static electricity.
Static electricity is responsible for approximately 91% of the fights between couples, according to statistics I just made up. A guy goes in to kiss his girl, and POW – there’s a spark. And not a good spark…a spark that will elicit yelps of pain from both ends of the couple.
Winter time is especially awful because we wear so much wool and the atmosphere does something different that produces more protons and electrons. Or at least I think it does. (I’m sorry, Mr. Luke, for not listening very closely in your science class.)
Think about it: spring has always been known as the season of love, right? That’s because (a) couples are coming back together after a winter of shocking each other, or (b) couples are finding someone new after dumping the person who habitually shocked them.
My wife and I have been dealing with the static problem this year, as we do every year, and I’ve honestly been afraid for the health of our kissing relationship during the last few months. When I go to kiss Merriem goodbye (or hello, or hey-I-haven’t-seen-you-in-the-last-few-minutes because hey – she’s a good kisser), she starts that tentative pucker face that looks like she’s getting ready to get the zap of her life. I think her lipstick has metal shavings in it, because sometimes you can hear and see the spark.
And again – not the good spark.
It’s gotten so bad that I find myself walking towards her as I high-step (so I don’t shuffle on the carpet) and keep my knees a couple of feet apart (so my pants legs don’t work up any electricity). Sometimes I’ll try to act like a true romantic and hold her hand as I kiss her, but honestly that’s only so I don’t electrocute her lips.
If this keeps up, I might sell this idea to the federal prison system. Think about the money we’d save on death row if we implemented this. They could hire people to wear wool socks and shuffle around shag carpet all day, and then at midnight they go to the condemned prisoner and go in for a little peck on the forehead…
Never mind. That’s morbid and I don’t need any hate mail.
So anyway, happy valentine’s day, babe. I’m glad we’re keeping the spark alive.
The good kind.