Mountain Musings


My Funny Valentine


For Valentine’s Day this year, me and the Missus decided to do something different. Instead of celebrating at home or attending one of the many Valentine’s Day dinners around the mountain, we headed out to Las Vegas, where we stayed at what used to be The Stratosphere Hotel and Casino. Nowadays it’s just called “The Strat.”


The Strat, which is known for having the tallest, freestanding observation tower in the USA, stretching 1,149 feet toward the heavens, is a place we have frequented many times over the years, but never on Valentine’s Day.


Folks come from all over the world and shell out a hundred bucks to jump off the roof. Don’t worry – they are strapped to a harness hooked to a cable, which offers them a free-fall until the last 30 feet or so when it slows down to a soft landing below.


Well, the Missus kept egging me on to jump, but I politely declined the offer. The only problem was that I wanted to be strapped to the cable, but she wanted me to leap without benefit of the cable. As it turns out, she thought it would be funny, as if it were April Fool’s Day. It even brought a smile to my face. You might even say she’s my Funny Valentine. Okay DJ, crank up the Victrola…


“My funny valentine, sweet comic valentine, you make me smile with my heart. Your looks are laughable, unphotographable, yet you’re my favorite work of art. Is your figure less than Greek? Is your mouth a little weak when you open it to speak? But don’t change a hair for me, not if you care for me, stay little valentine, stay. Each day is Valentine’s Day.” (“My Funny Valentine” Penned by Rogers & Hart in 1937 – Performed by Anita Baker, Sarah Vaughan, Linda Ronstadt, etc, etc.)


Yep, she’s the vindictive type and she’s still steamed about this year’s Valentine’s Day gift. So, being the practical person that I am, I got her a brand, spankin’ new chainsaw. You know, we still have quite a few tree limbs and branches lying around that need cutting up after that ferocious windstorm we had a few weeks ago, and I figured she she’d be good at cutting them up. Well, I was wrong. And I’ll tell you what, I’m lucky she didn’t chase after me like that Texas Chainsaw Massacre dude. But I did end up sleeping in the doghouse, and we don’t even have a dog, not since our Springer Spaniel, Freckles, passed away.


But that’s nuthin’ – you should have seen the look on her face last year. Again, being the practical person that I am, I got her a brand spankin’ new ironing board. Well, in a few days I should recover from the lump on my head I got for my considerate and practical gift.


Keep it flyin’ Uncle Mott