It was Valentine’s Day yesterday — in case you missed it. I almost did. Around noon, my wife reminded me that it was that special day to remember the love interests in one’s life.
I sat down and immediately penned cards to singer Patsy Cline, my second-grade teacher, Ms. Bodie, and “Alice,” who dumped me in the eighth grade, thereby helping me dodge a real life-ending bullet. Last I heard, she was in prison for attempting to murder her third husband.
Alice and I only went to a couple of sock hops before she realized that a skinny kid with glasses, a big mouth and who danced like a crack-addicted monkey didn’t figure into her long-range plans.