Bridging the love gap

Bridging the love gap

I am gaining a new appreciation of the phrase “madly in love.”

It seems that the world of love and romance has taken on new dimensions. The rules have really changed since I was a young woman. In a way, it’s more exciting now. But back then? Boy met girl, boy married girl, they had a bunch of kids, and everyone lived happily or unhappily ever after. I, for one, followed that path. Again and again and again.

But I recently came across a story worthy of serious attention. It seems a woman named Erika has married the Eiffel Tower. Wait. Let me say that again. A woman has wed the Eiffel Tower. Seriously. There are actual pictures on the Internet, so we know it must be true. And another woman has fallen in love and become a couple with the Berlin Wall. Talk about your wedded bliss.

This raises an important question: Has the world gone totally nuts?

To answer that, I give you reality TV, where brides-to-be give us a model of deep-seated love, as they scream: “This is my day. MY DAY. And if you can’t massage my feet and give me a pedicure RIGHT NOW then you are no longer my mother/sister/maid of honor/ husband-to-be/ex-husband/minister/justice of the freakin’ peace. Now, MASSAGE!”

Look, I get the whole I-am-about-to-make-a-life-changing-decision-and-I’m-scared-senseless-and-also-trying-to-lose-10-pounds-so-I-can-fit-into-my-wedding-dress psychosis thing. I’m just saying there’s a little loveliness missing. Especially when one of the women featured is in hysterics because her $50 pair of panties is among the missing. Just to clarify, we’re not talking about a 3-year-old niece who has wandered off, invoking outbursts of tears and shouting and a call to 911. We’re talking about a 2-by-3-inch piece of silk and lace that requires frantic call after call to the happy groom to “find my !%!&%!%& panties!” Boy, I’ll bet he’s really looking forward to carrying her over the threshold.

Bridezillas aside, we step it up a notch.

Now, you may think that there is something wrong with this writer – me – who actually watches these shows. I assure you it’s all in the effort of, um, journalism. So, let me welcome you to “Bridalplasty.” You read that right. “Bridalplasty,” a new reality show featuring entire teams of nasty brides-to-be, each competing for the honor of being that week’s Top Bride, earning her a plastic surgery from her “wish list” because, again, “This is my day. MY DAY!” There is scheming and cattiness and plenty of good ol’ American fun as these women try to outwit the competition through virtues of lying, cold calculation, and heavy amounts of very bad acting, apparently all critical ingredients in a successful marriage. We see tearful women talking on cell phones to their fiance?s, fearful of being kicked off the show and ending their chance at tummy tucks, nose jobs, boob jobs, butt jobs, and/or pouty lips. The lucky guy on the other end of the phone lovingly encourages her to “hang in there, Jessica/Michelle/Gina” because, let’s face it, he, too, wants the perfect bride.

And if she can’t win the title and get all the surgeries she longs for, no one would blame him if he fell for that sexy, strong and shapely … Golden Gate Bridge.

Kathy Eliscu is a nurse and freelance writer who lives in Westbrook. She credits her way of looking at the light side of life to her mother, the late Marge Eliscu, whose “Coffee Break” humor column ran for two decades in the Maine Sunday Telegram

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