LOVE TASTES GOOD
Okay, the Old Block got side-tracked there for a moment, but the setup was critical to evoke your curious imagination and make you more susceptible to my eclectic way of thinking. (No, not “weird”, I said “eclectic”.) Let us assume that the heart and not the brain is our feeler gauge for love, and somehow can pump love through our veins. (The heart takes a great deal of credit for the brain’s hard work, but for this exercise, we will let it slide.) So the heart is considered our “Love Muscle” and somehow miraculously can even break without really breaking, and cause us to spiral into deep, dark despair when love tastes bad. Does love really taste bad if it is truly love? I think not. Some of us have very stupid hearts that think it is love they are eating. (That is why all hearts should consult with the brain, first!)
Think back to what was considered your first love. How did that end? Or did it? Are you married to your grade school heartthrob? Or did it somehow lose its flavor over time, and end up in the garbage disposal? For me, it never even got started. I tasted with my eyes, but some magical force, (like the one that got poor old Uncle Ray), swooped in and whisked her away. Far away! (Ms. Dunn, if you are out there, and still breathing, just know I never stopped caring about you. Think she heard me? Stupid Heart!) Love tasted really good, but it burned my tongue! I was too hasty, and did not let it cool off enough before trying to gobble it up! I admit I was hungry for love, no, starving for love. However, my heart never once had that all-important conference with my brain.
So, if you are sitting at love’s table, with a napkin in your lap or tucked in your collar, ready to feast on love, please tell your heart to get permission from “the big guy” before you start gorging yourself on what you smell and see as love. If at the end of this heart-throbbing meal, you can say, “That stuff was good!” I applaud you and wish you well. And give my compliments to the chef!
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