Matchmakers

Matchmakers?
(by R.P.Edwards)

“O, we’re so compatible!”
Say the lovebirds in the nest
Singing pure devotion
Before a single test
But if you want attention
Pass decades, one…and two
“Then” we’ll pay your method…mind
The one…of which…you coo

Reginald looked across the crowded ballroom and there, like a blooming violet nestled midst a slightly jumbled line of darkly polished straight back chairs…was his destiny. All alone, and apparently content to be (as evidenced by her oft refusals of a suitors invitation) a fair skinned waif with long auburn locks and a floor-length dress of azure turned slightly sideways and, as her head leisurely turned to gaze upon the moon’s gentle reflections on the country club’s twenty-acre lake (her delicate shoulders revealing the slightest of sighs), Reginald, like an alighting monarch butterfly, quietly seated himself two chairs distant and, leaning, whispered, “Beautiful, isn’t it?” With the intrusion the maiden stirred suddenly but, after an apology and an anecdote, the ice was broken and, by evening’s end--such was their symmetry--a lifetime of married bliss was a bygone conclusion. [Five years later] “I WANT A DIVORCE!” “DITTO!”

Sorry, but these matchmaker commercials just hit me wrong. Oh, I sympathize with the search. I feel for the forlorn, but these “newbies” and their eternal declarations. Untested, untried, lacking rigors and rapids and rainy days. Devoid of potholes and pit stops and detours and destitution and denials and delusions and doo doo. Well, I think the euphoria of the youthful…is a bit misleading. Use a time machine to bring back a blissful octogenarian couple to testify. No time machine? How about a disclaimer scrolling on the bottom of the screen. WARNING! Couples in this commercial are suffering from short term phermonic delirium.