La Vie d'Amour
The locale is Chicago, mid-nineteen-seventies. The young lady in question is Megan Downey, the daughter of my mother's college friend. I haven't seen Megan for over twenty years, but I see now that she initiated me in a storyline or a ritual that I've been reenacting ever since. These photographs probably speak for themselves, but there a couple of things that I don't understand, so let's let the drama unfold.
Chapter I: The Encounter
It happens the way it always happens, and perhaps the way it always should--when I'm oblivious, unexpectant, looking the other way. This lends to the atmosphere a sense of spontaneity, of serendipity, of destiny, but it's all an illusion. What I think is chance or circumstance has actually been orchestrated by the cunning schemes of womankind, or, in this case, a playdate arranged by my mommy.
Chapter II: The Courtship
This moment, more than all others here, deserves to be immortalized in film (or in pixels), just as those early stages of romance are the ones we'd most like to capture in time. I would like to think that I'm saying something funny and charming here, something to win her over forever, but a closer look on her face might reveal otherwise.
Chapter III: The Coronation
I call it this because it reminds me of having a boutonniere pinned to my chest, or maybe even being felt up. (Given myspace's reputation as a hangout for child molesters, I probably shouldn't made any jokes that might bring the perverts out of the woodwork. Let me assure you perverts that Megan and I are now fully grown. Sorry.) Though I look happy, I also look like I might be looking off over Megan's shoulder in this picture, now that the chase has ended.
Chapter IV: The Valediction
And so it ends, as it always ends. At first I thought it looked like she was pushing me away, but maybe she's beckoning me to come back. I can't tell. I never can.
