Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Vintage Louise: Geek Love, 2009
Tom has always referred to himself as a geek. I am the one who quickly jumps in to defend his appalling ignorance of popular culture, fashion icons and trendy dance moves. “You’re not a geek. You’re an intellectual caught up in your own little world of philosophical theories and the B&H catalogue,” I say to him. “That’s why I married you. You were always studying. It was so sexy.”
I am the one who tells him maybe he should wear his shirt outside of his belt when he’s wearing levis. I’m the one who educates him on who’s who in movie star land. I’m the one who made him buy his first, second and third convertible. I buy his ties. And sometimes I actually think that he’s learned to open his eyes and ears to the world around him. I begin believing my own copy: Tom isn’t a geek. He’s sexy.
Goofy me. Last week, we spent our vacation in Short Hills NJ where our son, Ed, and his family live. One day, we decided to visit the Jersey Shore and get us some serious beach and sun time. Six of us got into the van and headed to Hoboken to pick up Ed from the water taxi. On the way, we stopped at Target to buy snacks and Tom said, “I’d better buy a hat.” I nodded. The only advice I gave was, “Get a baseball cap,” safe in the knowledge that he could not possibly make a mistake buying a baseball cap.
I am at the hot dog stand when he reappears in a Jonas Brothers cap (see above). “Pretty cool, huh?” he said.
“Didn’t they have a Yankees cap—any sports team?”
“What’s the matter with the Jonas Brothers? They were at The Stadium of Fire last year.”
“No one over the age of seven likes the Jonas Brothers,” I said. And proving my point, Rian, age 15, and Samantha, age 10, our granddaughters walked up, took one look at Tom and folded into guffaws.
When Dede, their mother, saw him, she said, “Do not speak to any young children. You look like a total pedophile.”
He also bought cargo shorts and wore them with long white stockings and brown shoes.
He’s really smart, though. Really. You should hear him go on about Hofmannsthal. He takes my breath away.
Posted by Louise Plummer at 5:20 PM