My cheap little homemade paper greetings that asked simply, “Won’t you be my valentine?” were good enough for the girls in Miss Wheeler’s class.
All except one, that is – the one who sat at the desk directly in front of mine, the one with the golden ponytail, the one who had captured my 8-year-old heart.
She was my One True Love, although she didn’t know it. In fact, she had never acknowledged that I existed on Planet Earth.
I had to get her something special. But with what? I didn’t even have two nickels to rub together.
Thankfully, I did have one nickel. And thankfully Wrigley’s spearmint cost just five cents.
I got into class early and left a package of it on her desk, on top of one of my greeting cards.
Miss Wheeler, of course, did not allow chewing gum while in class. I watched My True Love during recess as she opened the Wrigley’s and stuck a stick into that cute little mouth with the gleaming white teeth.
Then she gave a stick to the boy seated beside her!
Did she offer me one? Heck no.
So much for true love.
A NOVEL GIFT
Now, many years later, as I pondered what to get my valentine for this Valentine’s Day, it was my Redneck friend, Freddie Frizzell (a third cousin to country singer William Orville “Lefty” Frizzell (1928-1975)), who gave me the idea for a very practical gift.
Freddie even gave his one and only a poem to go with it. He showed me a copy:
REDNECK VALENTINE
“Collards is green,
My dog’s name is blue;
And I’m so lucky
To have a sweet thang like you.
Yore hair is like cornsilk
A-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue’s
And without all them fleas.
You move like the bass
Which excite me in May.
You ain’t got no scales
But I luv you anyway.
Yo’re as satisfy’n as okry
Jist a fry’n in the pan,
Yo’re as fragrant as ‘snuff’
Right out of the can.
You have some’a yore teeth,
For which I am proud;
I hold my head high
When we’re in a crowd.
On special occasions,
When you shave under yore arms,
Well, I’m in hawg heaven,
And awed by yore charms.
Still them fellers at work,
They all want to know,
What I did to deserve
Such a purty young doe.
Like a good roll of duct tape
Yo’re there for your man,
To patch up life’s troubles
And fix what you can.
Cut from the best cloth
Like a plaid flannel shirt,
You spark up my life
More than a fresh load of dirt.
When you hold me real tight
Like a padded gunrack
My life is complete.
Ain’t nothin’ I lack.
Yore complexion, it’s perfection,
Like the best vinyl sidin’.
Despite all the years.
Yore age, it keeps hidin’.
Me’n you’s like a Moon Pie
With a RC cold drank,
We go together
Like a skunk goes with stank.
Some men, they buy chocolate
For Valentine’s Day;
They get it at Wal-Mart,
It’s romantic that way.
Some men get roses
On that special day
From the cooler at Kroger’s.
“That’s impressive,” I say.
Some men buy fine diamonds
From a flea market booth,
“Diamonds are forever,”
They explain suave and couth.
But for this man, honey,
These won’t do.
Cause yo’re too special,
You sweet thang you.
I got you a gift
Without taste nor odor,
More useful than diamonds…
IT’S A NEW TROLLIN’ MOTOR!
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