16 September 2007

Delilah After Dark

My friend Molly loves Delilah, and I have to admit that I do, too. It's not one of those things one would normally admit in mixed company, but when I found myself in the car tonight thinking "ooo, Delilah's on!" I decided that it was time for me to come clean about it. When I've had a long day, and things have been loud and busy, and I'm driving home at night, sometimes it's nice to listen to something a little mellow. Something about the dark night with scattered stars of headlights and street lamps just calls for the dulcet tones of Delilah sometimes. Often, the music is too sappy, and not anything to which I would normally listen, but damn if Delilah doesn't make you say "yeah, this is all right."

I had such a day and such a night last week, and stumbled upon Delilah while flipping stations futilely looking for something that didn't make me restless. A lady called in and, as they are wont to do, shared a long story with Delilah about her husband and how they met. But what made this particular story memorable is that her husband proposed to her in a graveyard. I think that's pretty awesome, and wouldn't mind that scenario myself, but wouldn't think there are too many average women who would agree. Delilah was a bit taken aback herself, in her mellow, loving way. The lady's husband-to-be told her that he wanted their marriage to start there because that's where he wanted it to end. And though my knee jerk reaction is to make a joke and say something like "and then, after 10 years of marriage, he poisoned her tea," it also makes me pause and think "gosh, that's sweet." And then it made me tear up a little bit, because that's the way I roll.

It's just nice to be reminded sometimes, as we all struggle through this world with and without relationships, that there are success stories out there. And that they call into syndicated radio shows.

And that proposing in a graveyard is an awesome idea.

1 comment:

Wahooty said...

Let's face it...you're not REALLY a success story unless you've called into a syndicated radio show. The rest of you people are just posers.