T O D A Y

Drama Queen candidates:
The strangest declarations of love

Contestant No. 1
Contestant No. 2
Contestant No. 3

Vote now!

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TABLE TALK

Is Tinky Winky a subversive pawn of the militant gay agenda? Discuss the true nature of the Teletubbies in the Mothers are of Table Talk

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R E C E N T L Y

A sardine's story
By Sallie Tisdale
A picture book that follows the life of a fish, all the way to her death and packaging in a can -- has some grown-ups squirming. Maybe kids need to help them face reality
(02/11/99)

The city of lost children
By Katherine Ellison
Is a Brazilian judge stealing babies for American families?
(02/10/99)

The feminist queen of the Middle East
By Geraldine Brooks
Queen Noor deserves much of the credit for Jordan's transformation from police state to cradle of political freedom
(02/09/99)

What is Victoria's secret?
By Coleen Hubbard
How do you explain to your little girl that we live in a world where breasts get graded, and some of us flunk?
(02/08/99)

Lichen
By Anne Lamott
My father believed that "nature bats last" -- and it did, unfolding my family's destiny
(02/05/99)

ARCHIVES

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Mamafesto
By Camille Peri
Why it's time
for Mothers Who Think

"We'll have a son and name him Scooter"
By Karen McKeown

When I was 20 years old and living at school in Indiana, I came to know a small circle of friends. One of them, John, was a business major. He was industrious without being too studious, he was nice and he did a lot of drugs. While John and I did not have a great deal in common, there was a definite sexual attraction. We tried to date, but each evening ended with some sexual fumbling.

We hung out with the rest of his gang: Gary and Elizabeth, a couple, and Ricky, also a business major. One Sunday afternoon, all five of us went to a park to have lunch and drink a little beer and wine. We drove to a place on the outskirts of town and enjoyed the beautiful spring weather. I was feeling hopeful and decided to try making a spark, a real spark, with John.

The picnic was fine. The weather was fine. John and I were not fine. After a couple months of feeling our way toward each other, we each decided this was a no-go. Neither of us said anything on that afternoon, though, and we all seemed to be having a pretty good time until the food poisoning kicked in. Elizabeth, I think, threw up first, and in our concern and care for her, we each in turn started to feel the flip-flops in our own stomachs. Gary and John took Elizabeth home, and Ricky and I were to follow in his car. I was worried about soiling Ricky's sports car (Ricky was a bit of a rich kid), but luckily, I threw up before we left, and on the drive home, with the fresh air, I started to feel a little better. Ricky suggested a walk, and it sounded good, so we parked and walked on a very pretty trail in the middle of campus.

As we walked, Ricky began to very carefully broach the subject of me and John. My initial fear was that John cared more for me than I had thought, and Ricky was playing middleman. But as he spoke, I noticed that Ricky was denigrating John's potential in a relationship. He began to extol my virtues in a way I found flattering, but a little confusing. Then he began to outline the many things we had in common, all the ways he believed we were compatible.

Of course I couldn't stay with someone like John, Ricky said, I deserved better. I deserved someone like him! He laid out for me all he could offer: He was smart, he was sure to be a success. We would get married when I graduated and then I could do anything I wanted. We could live in New York or Chicago. We would have a son, and his nickname would be "Scooter."

More than a little overwhelmed, I was slow to fully comprehend this marriage proposal. A wonderful guy, Ricky, but when had this whole thought process occurred? What signs had I missed? I decided there had been none. This was the first.

We approached a fork in the road. Ricky stopped very importantly here and told me that he had thought all this out -- our walk, his arguments -- and here we were, at the fork, so to speak. The choice was obvious. I could walk over the bridge with him, or leave him and take the other path, on my own. Ricky was silent, looking at me, all anticipation.

I tried to speak gracefully, reassuringly and yet firmly. I failed. My nausea was coming back and I fumbled an apology. I was sorry if I'd ever given Ricky reason to think, well, that I liked him. I enjoyed being with him, but this was, well, this would not work. And I was sorry, and flattered, but no, I was afraid that this could not happen, and, I'm so sorry.

Ricky seemed to take this pretty stoically. He suggested that I needed to go to my dorm room, to bed, and he would be happy to drive me there. We drove in silence, arrived at my dorm, said our goodbyes. In subsequent meetings, we acted like nothing had ever happened. And upon reflection, I think nothing really had.
SALON | Feb. 12, 1999

Contestant No. 1 | Contestant No. 2 | Contestant No. 3 | Vote now!