There's Getting Dumped & Then There's Getting Erased

    Ah, Valentine's Day, the one day a year that florists, chocolatiers, and greeting card manufacturers (not to mention restaurants, independent high-class and so-so class chain joints alike) all rejoice in the sudden swelling of their coffers.

   Not to put too much of a cynical spin on it.

   There are millions and millions of people all over the world (something like a hundred countries celebrate some version of Valentine's Day - in Latin America, it's known as Dia del Amor y la Amistad) expressing their affections towards someone on Valentine's Day. 

   With so much participation around the globe, one is somewhat forced to lend it some credence as a bonafide celebration of romantic love, eh?

   However, there are those who disdain the blatant commercialization and abhor the societal pressure that is placed upon individuals to flamboyantly display/express their affections towards their mate/significant other/sorta serious friend/frequent but casual hook-up. 

   And then there are those who are not involved with another on any interpersonal level whatsoever, romantic, casual, or pay-as-you-go. Those people really have it rough (that is, according to the small sample of my circle of friends and acquaintances who fit into that demographic they do - heck, according to most of them it's the worst day of the year, period). 

   Those people are fairly vociferous about how much they despise the holiday.

    The ones who have it even worse than them though? Gotta be those who have recently gone through a break-up, amiable, amicable, or otherwise. Even if the break-up was a long time coming, the first Valentine's Day afterward has got to be just a little more than irksome.

    Especially if the end of the relationship was so bad one or the other parties involved had to take a chisel to the initial that was preserved with their partners in cement, encircled by a heart as a statement of their eternal devotion.

   Sometimes even being etched in stone isn't a guarantee.

Warm Winter Afternoon Hike

    Unusually Warm Winter for the Denver area this year. No complaints from me though, makes taking an afternoon hike much more pleasant.

The Texan Who Relocated To Colorado But Still Misses Home

 

   Cannot decide which is funnier, the steer horns mounted on the hood or the placard hanging from the rearview mirror.

   I suppose it doesn't matter, because whoever is driving this car is definitely winning.

The Unwelcome Confession

   Carter sat on the bench in an awkward slouch, his physical misalignment quite in line with his current emotional state.

   In short, not good.

   For perhaps the 25th or 26th time that evening he recounted to himself exactly what had transpired between him and Yolie the day before, and for the 25th or 26th time that evening he found himself unable to accept that last thing she had told him.

   They had met a scant 8 weeks ago while standing in line to see the latest and greatest iteration of a reformed '90's band. She had liked his shirt and he replied that he like hers.

   That's all it took to spark a mutual attraction that led to an exchange of phone numbers and 14 dates over the past two months.

   Date 15 was yesterday. That date was far more intimate than any of the previous 14 - far more intimate than the long, lingering kisses and full body caresses that had evolved from the awkward hug goodnight of the first date.

   The conversation afterward was as far more intimate as the physical intimacy had been. Far more intimate and far more revealing.

   It was during that intimate conversation, when both of them were sharing details about past relationships, that Yolie stated rather flatly that she had only ever been involved in what could be regarded as an affair once, and it was over 25 years ago when she was still in high school, and she wasn't the married one, so really, it shouldn't even matter.

   Her stating that she was in high school when it happened, and that she wasn't married but he was, both made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and piqued his curiosity.

   So he asked a question that, once it escaped his lips, he knew he shouldn't of.

   He asked, "You were in high school and he was a married man? How did that happen?"

   And she told him how it happened, in the same flat manner that she had casually mentioned it.

   She was 15. He was her 35-year-old tennis coach. She had a crush on him that drove her crazy. She flirted with him incessantly when they were alone together. She said she knew he was playing coy when he told her several times that what she was doing was inappropriate, and she was certain he wanted her as much as she wanted him. 

   So she persisted, wearing tight polo shirts with all three buttons undone to expose her ample cleavage, and the shortest tennis skirt she could get away with. She smiled seductively and licked her lips as she bent forward toward him when he was feeding tennis balls into the hopper of the ball launcher, and made it a point to always bend over to pick up a tennis ball or two with her back to him.

  She stated that she did everything she could for at least two months to get him to make a move for her before deciding to take a step that she now "somewhat, sort of" regretted. 

   With a chilling tone Yolie said she told her married tennis coach that if he did not start responding to her as she wanted him to, she would tell his wife that he had. 

   That, she said, was when he came around to her way of thinking and they started a very passionate affair that lasted for almost a year, until he and his family moved when he took a job in Florida.

   She had been tempted to follow him to Florida, but changed her mind once she met her first serious boyfriend at the fast food restaurant where they both worked.

   Carter then asked the second question of the night that once he asked it he knew he shouldn't have.

   He asked, "Do you ever think about how much danger you put him in - he could have gone to jail for that, you know, and no doubt would have lost his wife and family."

   Yolie had laughed a little when Carter asked that question, and her curt reply of  "Oh come on, we just were having a little fun and nobody got hurt, don't go all prudish on me now!" had turned his stomach.

   That was the point when Carter got up out of the bed they were sharing and started to get dressed. She asked where he was going and he told her he had to leave and do some thinking. He finished dressing as she sat upright on the bed staring at him, and he walked down the hall and out the door without another word.

   Carter straightened out a little on the bench, his left leg having developed a little numbness. He drummed the fingers of his left hand on his knee. 

   He knew there was no way he could accept her cavalier attitude about the affair, it just wasn't possible. She confessed to seducing a married man 20 years her senior when she was in high school, a man who, as her high school tennis coach, would have legally been regarded as being in a position of trust and would therefore have been criminally liable for abusing that position.

   Criminally liable, which in this state and at that time would have meant he would have gone to jail for a minimum of 5 years, and would have had a lifetime afterwards of having to register as a known sex offender.

   And she only "somewhat, sort of" regretted how she went about it.

  

   

Anchorage In February, 1990

The sun began to crack the horizon a little earlier each day

By the end of the month there would be almost six full hours of daylight

Not enough to melt the parking lot glaciers

But in the afternoons the sun dogs would start dancing

Anchorage in February, 1990

The Coolest Thing(s) I Saw Today

   Right off I-25 southbound at the Cimarron (Colorado 24 westbound) exit...well, about two blocks up Colorado 24 westbound, on your right.

Buffalo Roaming

 

                                             Lou Wille's sculpture in Grand Junction, Colorado