Dear Fairdale Bigfoot,
I’m looking to change things up a little bit for Valentine’s this year. My wife and I have been married for nine years, together for fifteen, so she’s seen all my A+ material, a lot of B material. (Truth be told, she even sits through the jokes that no one else gets to hear. That’s love.) I got to thinking about the little candy hearts with messages on them. They’ve been popular for years, but only recently, they’ve exploded with new phrases, new styles, it’s a little silly. (“Twilight” branded Sweethearts? I don’t think so.)
I was wondering, do you have any ideas for new phrases to stamp on candy hearts? Better yet, any ideas for new shapes or items for stamping such phrases? Because a message on a heart, no matter how clever, is still a message on a heart. She’s seen that, too.
Dopey And Vaguely Endearing
New ideas for candy hearts? What a lead-in. Truly worthy of Fallon. Are you practicing to be replaced by Jay Leno?
Now, moving on to your chalky dilemma. What’s wrong with new messages and movie tie-ins? Kids love candy and kids love Robert Pattison. Fairdale Bigfoot may live under a rock, but there’s still an Edward Cullen poster on the wall. Live in the now, DAVE. A century ago you would’ve been first in line at the confectioner’s shouting, “They’ve alluded to Bell’s infernal talking machine on my motto candies!” and demanding your hard-earned halfpenny back.
Just as the telegraph was replaced by the telephone, all culture is replaced by Stephenie Meyer’s Fang and (try not to) Bang novels. If your autogyro can’t keep up, pity on you.
As for newly-fangled candy phrases, Fairdale Bigfoot comes up blank. Sure, Fairdale Bigfoot could suggest some sasquatch words of love, but that would destroy this computer’s ‘R’ key. Besides, this is a family column, and we can’t have the young ones tugging fur on the playgrounds just yet. If there’s one thing they can learn from Twilight, it’s that the crushing depression that follows human contact is a feeling best left to the married.
Now to impress your ladyfriend with human words, take a page from Marcel Duchamp’s book of romance and go Dada. Formulaic jokes and hackneyed sentiment only go so far, so jam a knife in your dictionary (especially if you use Encarta) and send a custom order to NECCO. Or, to do it on the cheap, buy a bag of conversation hearts and smash them, then re-assemble the pieces into new love notes. The hard work that goes into this powerful romantic and artistic statement will make her your Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven for forever and ever. (If you don’t know it, look it up. That is, unless you’ve just perforated your reference books in an attempt to impress your wife.) She’ll take one look at the sugary powder caked into your hair after a night of obsessive assemblage assembling and fall in love with you all over again.
Okay, this is wrong. In all honesty, DAVE, it’s a pretty horrible idea. Fairdale Bigfoot just wanted to show off his four credit hours of art history.
Trying to do anything new with candy hearts (beyond eating them) is a mug’s game. If your wife has stuck by you for 15 years, she’s probably okay with a little cornpone now and then (you are married, so Ms. Meyer will approve of your cornponing on Valentine’s). Play her favorite song on a boombox and hand her a bag of clichés. Tell her you love her and spend the night laughing at the vampiric horrors stamped on the candy in front of you. Just make sure to get her a real gift, if you’re in to that sort of thing. Fairdale Bigfoot suggests macaroni art.