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A Sign of the Times--It’s Not in the Cards

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You’re having a special moment, but it’s not a Kodak moment. It’s time to relax, but it’s not Miller Time. You wouldn’t really rather have a Buick. It’s a non-greeting card occasion.

You look through the categories at the stationery shop--Birthday . . . Humorous Birthday . . . Get Well . . . Wedding . . . Bereavement . . . Humorous Bereavement--but there is no category for what you need.

My husband and I had one of those moments. I’ve known him since we were sophomoric high school sophomores. “You know, honey,” I said to him, “we’re almost the age our parents were when we first met each other.”

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“Oh, boy,” he said. “I think we should send each other greeting cards on this one.”

(Actually, I didn’t say honey. My husband and I use honey only sarcastically, as in, “Your turn to apply the Tidy Bowl, honey.”)

Sure enough, there is no Old As Your Parents Were section between Sweet Sixteen and Silver Anniversary. There’s not a single card saying: “To My Husband, We’re Growing Old, Fat and Ugly Together.”

Here’s another non-greeting card moment: Recently, I had a friend who was falsely accused and eventually exonerated on charges of child molestation. He is a wonderful person, and his life was turned into hell for seven months because of one misinformed or stupid or evil person. To help him through his ordeal, his friends organized a chain of support. We would each leave a gift on his doorstep every morning until the trial. I went into the store and looked at the cards. Not a single one said, “Congratulations! You’ve Been Falsely Accused of Child Molestation!”

Obviously, Hallmark is not keeping up with the times.

A final example arises from a conversation I overheard between two men leaving work for lunch. One was saying he wanted to go down to a certain outdoor plaza where women office workers are known to congregate at lunchtime. He said he wanted to check them out but was afraid his wife would get angry.

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” the friend said. “Tell your wife that just because you’re married, that doesn’t mean you’re dead.”

“Yeah,” said the married man, encouraged. “I’ll tell her, ‘Just because I take a test ride, that doesn’t mean I’ll buy the car.’ ”

“No! Test ride is not the concept here!” explained his friend.

“I guess you’re right,” the married man said. “I suppose I should say, ‘Just because I go into the showroom, that doesn’t mean I want to buy the car.’ ”

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“Much better,” his friend said as they both headed for the Plaza de las Administrative Assistants.

Now, if some sharp greeting-card company were on its toes, this poor slob wouldn’t have had to invent his own inadequate metaphors. One crummy phrase could wreck an entire marriage. The poor couple would never have lived to see each other get as old as their parents were when they first met.

And if greeting cards were really keeping pace with our evolving world, the husband could have gone into a card shop and bought: “To My Wife, Thinking of Having an Affair but Want You to Think I’m Just Planning to Trade in the Volvo, Honey.”

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