“What can be worse than the total agony of being in love?”


In the spirit of the holiday season…

“What can be worse than the total agony of being in love?”As spoken by an eleven year old from a line in the film, Love Actually. If you pause for one second and think about it, isn’t love the absolute worst thing ever? I mean it is sheer torture yet it is vital and what we all live for ultimately. Some say it’s not Love but Sex that we do all the work for i.e. Sigmund Freud, but I don’t think he had that one quite figured out.

The absence of love can create the most distressing feelings inside. Sadness, loneliness, the shallow feeling of hating the couple walking hand in hand in front of you on the street. What a nightmare. Yet when in love that couple barely exists for the focus is not on them, but on your own hand in that of your loved ones. Total nonsense I think, turns us into absolute jerks doesn’t it?What is it about love that can have you raging in anger and reeling from joy in the matter of minutes? How is it that we, seemingly rational human beings allow ourselves such beastly behavior? I know its chemical and I know we can’t help it, but why do we put ourselves through it time and again?

Why do we let love in, and then let it ravage us so completely often leaving us in tatters and destroyed? Then as time passes we consciously (or not) do it all over again, risking the same awful result? As adults are we not to learn from our mistakes and not repeat them. When we touch the super hot radiator, don’t we actively avoid it so as not to burn again?

What makes love different? I want to know what you think. I am clearly at a loss because I am responsible for the horrid behavior I speak of. Please share your thoughts with me. Maybe together we can solve this Love thing once and for all? Highly unlikely but worth a shot, no?

End Quote

” Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love. How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That’s relativity.”

Albert Einstein

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Romance is back!


Original post date 1/31/2008

Reposted 8/14/10

The Veteran’s Day Classic:

Since it is Veteran’s Day  Nov. 11, this post seems to be getting very popular again. I love the story behind the image as much as I like the image. A powerful moment captured on film, timeless and timely.

Glenn Edward McDuffie knows why the sailor kissing a white-clad nurse in that famous photo has his wrist bent back in an awkward position. Taken August 14, 1945 in New York City’s Times Square moments after the crowd there heard World War II had ended, that photo has epitomized the jubilant mood of a nation who had won our hard fought victory. Glenn knows why that sailor has his wrist twisted because he is that sailor. Glenn had come to New York after coming off the SS Alexander Lillinton with Jack Holmes (from Pittsburg), the sailor in the dark uniform seen laughing in that same photo. Glenn also knows the sailor in the white uniform’s name is Bob Little from Buffalo, New York since he also served on the same ship.

Now ready to turn 80 this August 3rd, Glenn wants to celebrate the 62nd anniversary of his kiss of an overjoyed nurse by setting the record straight. Though numerous would-be kissing sailors have tried to lay claim to being the man in the photo, none know what Glenn McDuffie knows because they are not the man in the photo. Glenn not only knows the names and home towns of the only other sailors seen in the photo. He knows why the sailor smooching the nurse has his hand in such an unnatural position. Glenn tells it like this,

“I rode the subway into Times Square, got off, and when I walked up the stairs, a woman at the top said she was so happy for me. I ask hey ‘Why?’ and she said ‘the war is over, you can go home now!’ I was so excited I started jumping up and down and hollering because my oldest brother was a Japanese prisoner of war. He was there when the Philippines fell. Then this nurse held out her arms and I just looked up because I thought we were going to get run over. When I saw it was a photographer, I bent my hand back so you could see the lady’s face…”

Glenn McDuffie’s chivalrous act is the only explanation that makes sense when one views the photo. Not only does Glenn know why the strange hand position and the names of every sailor in the photo, he is the only man claiming to be the “kissing sailor” who has taken and passed a lie detector test on that subject. In fact, Glenn has passed 10 polygraph examinations proving his claims of being the man in the photo are truthful. In September 1980, he took two polygraph examinations administered by Smiths Security Agency for ABC Channel 13 (Houston, TX) at the behest of reporters John Davenport and Marvin Zindler. On February 14, 1981, the took a series of five tests, all by different operators, for F. Lee Baily’s syndicated Lie Detector show. Finally, on August 13, 2005, David Raney, Houston’s premier polygraph expert tested Glenn, and he passed with flying colors. Raney has a large poster of the famous photo in this lobby, signed by the man he is certain is in the photo: Glenn McDuffie.

Glenn was shipboard in the middle of the Atlantic on August 27, 1945, when the photo of him and the nurse in a jubilant embrace came out in print for the elated American public. Glenn never saw it till years later. During the summer of 1945 he was more worried about whether his brother, Willie Durant McDuffie, would be liberated from the Japanese. Over the years, McDuffie has tolerated men who did not know the names of the other sailors in the photo and who did not pass, or even agree to offers, of lie detector tests, making frivolous claims they were the man in the photo. None of these men even mention the chivalrous bended hand to show the nurse’s face. This plausible reason for the pose proves his first hand experience that day.

The only man who knows everything about the photo is a hero who fought for our country and deserves his due. The young nurse held out her arms right after hearing the war was won and Glenn McDuffie delivered a passionate kiss, chivalrously twisting his hand to show a photographer her face. This country owes Glenn some chivalry now.

Original post. Romance it dead.

This photo is not as romantic as you think… On August 14, 1945 the news of Japan’s surrender was announced in the United States, signaling the end of World War II. Riotous celebrations erupted in the streets, but perhaps none were more relieved than those in uniform. Although many of them had recently returned from victory in Europe, they faced the prospect of having to ship out yet again, this time to the bloody Pacific.

Among the overjoyed masses gathered in Times Square that day was one of the most talented photojournalists of the 20th century, a German immigrant named Alfred Eisenstaedt. While snapping pictures of the celebration, he spotted a sailor “running along the street grabbing any and every girl in sight.” He later explained that, “whether she was a grandmother, stout, thin, old, didn’t make any difference.”  Of course, a photo of the sailor planting a wet one on a senior citizen wouldn’t have made the cover of Life, but when he locked lips with an attractive nurse, the image was circulated in newspapers across the country. Needless to say, “V-J Day” didn’t capture a highly anticipated embrace by long-lost lovers, but it also wasn’t staged, as many critics have claimed. In any case, the image remains an enduring symbol of America’s exuberance at the end of a long struggle.



AddThis Social Bookmark Button

Anger unmanaged


anger and fear, rage, hatred, revolting.
in one second sparks ignite nothing in its trajectory  safe.
words sputter through clenched teeth, raised voices, prickly tongues.
jabs, slices, punches  inflicting maximum pain.
no rational thought, respect, or love.
deeply planted wounds seep with fresh blood.
a storm so out of control demanding attention.
no cure once blinded by the rush.
it spins through each cell and fiber.
hoping, trying to regain control as the venom attacks the soul.
breathing steadies, pulse no longer blaring.
around, tossed in the rubble is the evidence the damage done.
despicable words spoken replay on the tape.
left standing amidst intolerable shame.

Copyright ©2009 Veronica Romm

AddThis Social Bookmark Button

About a Friend


From the archives:
This is the most popular of all my poems for the past year so here once again About a Friend.

Yes this is personal and yes it is true.
It is my experience that I am sharing with you.

We were so close like sisters people said.
Closer than that we were, it was over your head.

A bond that sparked instantaneously much like new romance.
Of course those that insinuated such did not follow the dance.

Give give, take take, it all seemed so equal at first.
No shadow of doubt, we would never be cursed.

Hours and days were spent sharing the past.
The laughter and tears were flowing and vast.

Each told of old sorrows and pain we had endured.
Consoling each other, we were each others cure.

We had found one another, knew it was different this time.
The ying to her yang, the partner to our crime.

We turned heads and made people wonder.
Quite a few tried to quiet the thunder.

This gave us our strength, like forces of nature together.
She and I against the world, no storm we couldn’t weather.

Life would charge in and test our power.
Tempted and taunted to see who would cower.

We prevailed time after time, year after year.
We drew lines for others that were perfectly clear.

Then one day it happened, the first of the clues.
A weakness exposed and a hint of a ruse.

“Not us I thought, this was not our path.”
Rips in the fabric, hidden agendas, you do the math.

And with just as much power as we united.
Truth had snuck in though reluctant and uninvited.

The face I began to recognize was that of a stranger.
I saw it clearly and knew of the danger.

I had heard the voice before and I remember I had shuddered.
Those combative words thrust at me she had finally uttered.

The loss was tremendous the grief devastating.
I now understood the line between loving and hating.

I missed her so, wishing for a branch or simply a leaf.
Yet not until I let her go was their any relief.

Why today of all days to write this for all to see?
Perhaps, maybe it means I can at last be free.

Copyright ©2007 Veronica Romm

AddThis Social Bookmark Button