Honey, you...are my shining star...don't you fade away
In an attempt to lure the genre of "moronic guys who love sports" into the field of wild romanticism, WFAN in New York has been airing commercials encouraging guys to name a star after their significant other this Valentine's Day. And it seems to me that, hopefully, these guys REALLY like sports, cause that's all they're gonna have to fall to back on if their idea of a gift consists of a certificate claiming that some part of the galaxy is now named "Stephanie."
For starters, I'm not exactly sure who the authority is in this matter. Who decided that it would be romantic to name stars after women? Was it that infamous group of playboys, the astronomers? Or was it the astronauts? Or maybe it was God, who seems to me to be the only feasible authority when it comes to labeling various parts of the universe.
Whoever's idea this was, it is truly American. Only in this country could somebody begin the process of convincing guys that women would rather be unofficially named after a mass of gas than receive jewelry, and then charge them to do so. I'm sure the Native Americans - who never believed in the concept of owning land until we kicked them off of it - are getting a big kick out of this one. Wherever they are.
And I don't know how the actual process works, but I imagine that it goes something like this:
Them: "Star Registry, how can I help you?"
You:"Yeah, I'd like to name a star after my wife."
Them: "Okay, great! Did you have one in mind?"
You: "Ummm...yeah - the yellow one."
Them: "Okay...which yellow one?"
You: "Oh - sorry! I'm an idiot. The yellow one in between the two yellow ones."
Them: "Are you talking about the one over Staten Island, that blinks every 4.7 seconds?"
You: "Yeah - that's the one!"
Them: "Ooohhh - we're sorry. You must be talking about 'LaChondra.' She's obviously, already taken. But, let me look at my list of available stars. Okay...I see that I have a yellow one here, not far from the moon, with a great view of Kashakistan. How does that sound?"
You: "Uh, yeah. Whatever."
Them: "Wonderful! Now, what's your wife's name?"
You: "Amy. Actually, I just had a quick question. How do you know that this process isn't available elsewhere throughout the world, and that someone in say, Bosnia, didn't already name THIS star after HIS wife?"
Them: "That's a great question - one that we hear quite often. First, other countries are poor, and don't have time to concern themselves with naming things that aren't really theirs after the people that they will eventually divorce. They are too busy looking for food. Also, people in other countries just aren't as romantic as you. Their idea of romanticism involves a beautiful dinner, followed by a long, sensuous night of powerful love-making."
You: "Wait, that doesn't sound so ba..."
Them: "That'll be $300."
You: "Umm, okay. Should I make the check to out God?"
Them: "Why don't you just make it out the 'Star Registry' of Mt. Laurel, New Jersey, and one of our guys will give it to God when he goes up to outer space to put a sign on 'Amy.'"
Hey, while we're at it, let's name everything! We're Americans, gosh darn it! I won't sleep until I start hearing conversations like this:
Guy: "Hey honey - Happy Valentine's Day!"
Girl: "Happy Valentine's Day to you! I got you tickets for the game tonight!"
Guy: "Wow - that's great! Thanks so much, honey. Now it's time for YOUR gift. They ran out of stars, so I named that patch of air over there after you. Try not to breathe it in. I didn't know who to pay, so I just flushed $300 down the toilet. And then I named the toilet after you. Happy Valentine's Day!"
Girl: (stunned silence)
Guy: "Sooo...do you want have sex now, or wait until later?"
Thank God for sports.
For starters, I'm not exactly sure who the authority is in this matter. Who decided that it would be romantic to name stars after women? Was it that infamous group of playboys, the astronomers? Or was it the astronauts? Or maybe it was God, who seems to me to be the only feasible authority when it comes to labeling various parts of the universe.
Whoever's idea this was, it is truly American. Only in this country could somebody begin the process of convincing guys that women would rather be unofficially named after a mass of gas than receive jewelry, and then charge them to do so. I'm sure the Native Americans - who never believed in the concept of owning land until we kicked them off of it - are getting a big kick out of this one. Wherever they are.
And I don't know how the actual process works, but I imagine that it goes something like this:
Them: "Star Registry, how can I help you?"
You:"Yeah, I'd like to name a star after my wife."
Them: "Okay, great! Did you have one in mind?"
You: "Ummm...yeah - the yellow one."
Them: "Okay...which yellow one?"
You: "Oh - sorry! I'm an idiot. The yellow one in between the two yellow ones."
Them: "Are you talking about the one over Staten Island, that blinks every 4.7 seconds?"
You: "Yeah - that's the one!"
Them: "Ooohhh - we're sorry. You must be talking about 'LaChondra.' She's obviously, already taken. But, let me look at my list of available stars. Okay...I see that I have a yellow one here, not far from the moon, with a great view of Kashakistan. How does that sound?"
You: "Uh, yeah. Whatever."
Them: "Wonderful! Now, what's your wife's name?"
You: "Amy. Actually, I just had a quick question. How do you know that this process isn't available elsewhere throughout the world, and that someone in say, Bosnia, didn't already name THIS star after HIS wife?"
Them: "That's a great question - one that we hear quite often. First, other countries are poor, and don't have time to concern themselves with naming things that aren't really theirs after the people that they will eventually divorce. They are too busy looking for food. Also, people in other countries just aren't as romantic as you. Their idea of romanticism involves a beautiful dinner, followed by a long, sensuous night of powerful love-making."
You: "Wait, that doesn't sound so ba..."
Them: "That'll be $300."
You: "Umm, okay. Should I make the check to out God?"
Them: "Why don't you just make it out the 'Star Registry' of Mt. Laurel, New Jersey, and one of our guys will give it to God when he goes up to outer space to put a sign on 'Amy.'"
Hey, while we're at it, let's name everything! We're Americans, gosh darn it! I won't sleep until I start hearing conversations like this:
Guy: "Hey honey - Happy Valentine's Day!"
Girl: "Happy Valentine's Day to you! I got you tickets for the game tonight!"
Guy: "Wow - that's great! Thanks so much, honey. Now it's time for YOUR gift. They ran out of stars, so I named that patch of air over there after you. Try not to breathe it in. I didn't know who to pay, so I just flushed $300 down the toilet. And then I named the toilet after you. Happy Valentine's Day!"
Girl: (stunned silence)
Guy: "Sooo...do you want have sex now, or wait until later?"
Thank God for sports.
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