http://www.digitaljournal.com/life/lifestyle/op-ed-shot-through-the-heart-my-wife-finds-another-on-valentine-s-day/article/370694

Op-Ed: Shot through the heart - my wife finds another on Valentine's Day

Posted Feb 13, 2014 by Barry Ellsworth
I am weeping my heart out – my wife has broken it. On Valentine's Day, no less. Oh fates, you are cruel. What have I done to deserve this?
I was shot through the heart when my wife found somebody else on Valentine s Day.
I was shot through the heart when my wife found somebody else on Valentine's Day.
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We did have a good run – four years – but I know it is true. The bloom is off the romantic rose for Mary Lou and yours truly.
Something has come between us.
It’s not another man or woman; it’s not growing apart because of arguments, since we still get along famously.
It’s her Blackberry. She got it Feb. 12, two days before Valentine's Day. Sob.
I knew there was trouble just as surely as if she had texted me.
I was in the kitchen, making coffee, when she glided into the room, white robe flowing like a dove of peace, and as I faced her in anticipation of our morning kiss, she embraced – her Blackberry.
Yes, that insidious piece of technology has wormed its way into her heart. It took only a day – hours, really – to woo her. No flowers, no romantic candlelight dinners, no soothing words of love.
Just access to the internet, emails, texting, and a few word games claimed her affections. All contained in a little black box the size of a cigarette package.
“The bloom is off the rose,” I said, sadly.
“Ummmm,” she said.
“The bloom is off the rose,” I repeated.
“What do you mean?” she said, not even looking up from her Blackberry, as she caressed the little buttons that unlocked the key to her email.
‘I mean, that damned Blackberry,” I said. “Here I expected a kiss and the first thing you do is reach out and touch that machine.”
“Ohhh, poor dear,” she said, laughing. Then she kissed me – and went back to the Blackberry.
“Look, it’s from my sister Jo,” Mary Lou said. “Listen to this.”
It was a joke about some thief stealing beautiful thighs and butts while women slept, replacing them with old, jiggling parts and plastic surgeons using the good stuff to attach to other women.
I let it go. There is no use complaining when you are replaced by another, even if it is not a human, because it will just make matters worse and I knew it would drive my beloved further into the memory banks of the seductive Blackberry.
Better to remain calm and plot ways to regain her heart, such as stomping the blasted machine into oblivion.
I had argued against allowing the Blackberry into our happy little home.
“You don’t need one of those things,” I said. “We have a phone, we have a computer. That thing just makes you accessible 24-hours-a-day, seven-days-a-week.”
She looked at me.
“You have been getting along without it just fine,” I argued, but to no avail.
And so the door was opened, and Blackberry was invited into our lives and entwined itself around my sweetheart, drawing her closer and away from me.
What is the Blackberry that I am not? It is a little unit; I have a little unit. It can text, I can talk. It has internet, I have imagination. I can play games, too. It has email, I….
email.
We were in the car, journeying to Toronto. Suddenly, the Blackberry chirped. Incoming. It is daughter-in-law Juli from Oshawa, with a message that granddaughter Jenna, 4, will appear in a dance recital. Would we like to go?
Of course.
“See what the Blackberry can do?” Mary Lou said. “Juli was able to get hold of me right away and tell us about the concert, and I was able to respond immediately that we would go.
“No waiting until we get home, no telephone, no firing up the computer. Just a quick ‘yes’ and it is taken care of.”
I had what I thought was the perfect response.
“Would it have killed us to wait a few hours until we were at home before we found out about it?,” I said.
She glanced at me with that you-don’t-get-it look.
No, I don’t get it.
All I know is that a little interloper with no heart has stolen my wife.
Curse you, little black box.
Happy Valentine’s Day my eye.