Rubberband (my love song to Ricky)

Rubberband (my love song)

Written May-June ’09. Posted by: chelan on: July 22, 2009

vs.1

D                                      G

Your love is a rubberband, I’ve just come to understand

D                                              G                                 A

That whenever I go away I obey… its law of attraction

D                                      G

I need more than audio; sign in to Gmail video – oh, no…

D                                                               G

But that won’t even cut it close when I think of your hand

A

On the small of my back (and I whisper…)

Em                                                          A

Ooh,Ooh-Ooh,Ooh-Ooh,Ooh-Ooh,Ooh-Ooh! Can’t get enuf of u

Em                                          A

Oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh! You smell like work and espresso

Em                                          A

Hey, h-hey, h-hey, h-hey, h-hey /

Em

Until we’re old & gray…

A

Till our last living……Day

vs.2

The night we broke up, I went limp in your vice

You begged & I saw right through your disguise

But we cried & slow-danced until 5. We didn’t care

In the parking lot of Washington Square

vs.3

Remember our freshman year – that first day?

All the flirty games we used to play

They always built up to New Year’s Eve

When our lips would join forces again (and I’d say…)

Chorus


(rotate A & Em)

Till our babies’ babies… have lots of babies

Till our last living day

Till all of our senses (just) fade away

Till we haven’t the strength to reach out &

Join our wrinkly hands

And our souls are one voice that rebound to

Heaven like a rubberband

(finger-pick  ”Em/A pattern” for one more bar)


Turn off your cell phones and…pagers?

I read this request from time to time on movie screens, or hear it before a church service or performance. And every time, I’m like, “why do they still say ‘pagers’?” …unless they’re addressing all the doctors in the house (?!) It always brings me back to the days before cell phones – when I had a pager of my own.

It wasn’t mine, though. Ricky & I were 19 – he was madly in love with me, in ’96, and as a token of that love, he gave me a pager- so that he could page me – or page messages to me from his pager. I know we weren’t the only ones to do this back in the day, but that was some fine, primitive texting, right there…with a bonus feature ~ unravelling the mysterious code.

See, the typical message we’d send to each other was of course, in all numbers. So whenever I got a message from my boyfriend, I’d stop what I was doin’, pull over, or go somewhere semi-private (which i recall many times being “The Donut King” by Papa Murphy’s on Boones Ferry Rd. in Tualatin, OR), then pull out my little cheat-sheet for decoding, and finally, read his message with a sense of satisfaction & a giddy smile.

What was the code? Well, pure genius; the numbers would correspond to the numbers on a phone pad (1 was never used, 2 was A, B or C, 3 was D, E or F…) so with each number … came 3-4 letters to choose from.

I’d skillfully line up my 3-4 ltr choices, one under the other, so that each word would be solvable vertically – kinda like a word-search, but…well, this is getting to hard to explain. I think I’ll just get him to manually demonstrate! He just sent me the following message:

588 8 69 382426

And I had to figure it out on paper, so here it is!

pager-code

(and a close-up…)

pager-code-zoomed

Awwwe! That’s been his name for me since way back then – it’s short for: “Dubian Princess”. I don’t think that’s a real word. I think he coined it – but I’m pretty sure he got it from the similar term, “Nubian Princess” which after looking it up in the Urban Dictionary, I just realized means: “A luscious A-town chick who gets more booty than a toilet seat.”

Um…well, that’s cool…cuz I’m not his Nubian. I’m his Dubian. And I just IM’d him to ask what that means to him, & he said “Precious Princess”.    ; )

Also, a little coding side-note: our patented sign-off was 143 – betcha couldn’t guess that one – OK, I’ll help you out. These correspond to how many letters are in ea. word:

1  = I

4 = love

3 = you

…and to that, the other would always reply, “1432” (2 = “too”), & usually end the message with: 4L (4L = “for life”). So that was our archaic secret messaging system. (Again, ours as well as thousands of other couples, I’m sure). But I think I’d rather stay in my dreamy romantic denial…so don’t tell me if you did it too.

motorola-pager

 

romance is…pizza, coffee, music, conversation & memories

can i just say in response to ms. mandy’s post a while back about romance in marriage…that yeah, it’s possible! not convenient a lot of times, but possible! we’re in our 14th yr. of bein’ together and we’re still comin’ up w/new things. course $ helps, but it’s sure not nec. ~ if you have a way to swap kids w/a friend and walk around downtown together holding a coffee in one hand and each other with the other, it’s all good…like ethan hawke says to winona ryder in “reality bites” :

Troy:: See Lainy, this is all we need. A couple of smokes, a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation. You and me and five bucks.
Lelaina:: You got it!

case-in-point: my hubs got tickets to a concert (one of our fave artists, marc broussard), but the guy who bought them couldn’t go, so ricky asked me! the night was ours to own. we were just ourselves together. we talked. we got starbucks & new jersey style pizza, we got front row (thanks baby, for being so anal about getting there so dang early!), we got our groove on, we made fools of ourselves, we met cool people, we sang, we shot videos of the concert, we got home late, stayed up even later and slept in til 10.

we got to know each other better that night…and we got some kick-*@%! memories (& a guitar pick) to show for it.

now, c’mon. ain’t that what it’s all about?!

*** 

let’s hear some more examples (PG-13) of a romantic night in married life!

7 days without him

braylon woke up @ 8:08 and looked all over the house for him. when i said daddy tried to wake him earlier to say good bye, but is on his plane now, his chin started shaking and his big eyes welled up, “but i didn’t get to say good-bye and he’s going to be gone for… 7 days and will never come back!” he thought he’d missed his last & only chance. i reassured him that daddy really did try to wake him before leaving, but it was sooo early…and we were all so sleepy. he would call as soon as the plane landed, and they’d say good bye then. braylon’s tears never did fall, ‘ok’, he mumbled.

i’m happy for my husband, being able to fly to oregon to be in his brother’s wedding, seeing his family & staying with his best friend. yeah, i wish we could all go, but that’s how the cookie crumbles (as jim carrey would say in ‘bruce almighty‘). 7 days isn’t terrible. i just think of one friend who’s husband travels all the time for work, or another ~ who’s husband is being deployed to iraq this month, and it pulls me right out of my self-pity-pit. i’m so thankful we had a last great night (alone) before his trip. went to the ‘alamo drafthouse‘…ate some grub & downed 2 pitchers of diet coke while we watched batman (great action, but such a man-flick! but do not, i plead, do not let your children watch it). it was cold in there, so he cuddled up close to me as we stared intently, shared inside jokes, laughed & at times, flinched in our seats simultaneously. he’s a good man, that ricky.

7 more days…