Tucson Weekly: Dr. Luuhhv Speaks! (February 11

Here's Some Advice On Romance That's Worth Exactly What You've Paid For It.
By Tom Danehy
SO THERE I was, sitting at the UA baseball alumni game, reading the National Enquirer, and getting a head start on Sunburn '99, when I suddenly realized I had a public service to render. First, there are a couple things you should know.

The baseball thing was cool. They used wooden bats, which means there weren't any check-swing home runs and the final score added up to less than 50.
Coach Jerry Stitt has done a wonderful job getting the baseball program back up to a level of excellence. They should be very exciting to watch this year, and who knows, someday they may return to national-championship status. But I don't know if they'll ever draw as well as the women's softball team.

The much-maligned Enquirer (not to be mistaken for the Weekly World News, with the cover picture of an alien shaking hands with Garry Shandling at the Emmys; Shandling is the one on the right) has this killer article on Clinton prosecutor David Schippers. The life-long-Democrat-turned-Clinton-hunter was featured on 60 Minutes II a few weeks back, talking about how the President's adultery was shameful and sinful.
Well, Mr. Schippers showed up at the Congressional impeachment hearing with his wife and his mistress of 25 years. The paper has a picture of all three of them in the room at the same time, and has detailed accounts of his quarter-century fling. Many friends who said they had known about the affair for years said they broke their silence after he went on TV, pontificating about Clinton. And the sources, unlike the President, are indeed unimpeachable.
What is it about these guys that makes them think they can get away with this nonsense? Do they really believe that they, among all others, are going to be the one to get away with it and keep it a secret forever?
As long as two people know about it, it isn't a secret. Plus, there are an awful lot of Linda Tripps out there. If all the Barrs and Livingstons were to recuse themselves from this matter, there'd be about four people left sitting in that Senate chamber.
Now, as for the public service, this Sunday is St. Valentine's Day. A time of LUUHHV. But some people need help in love, and I'm here to help them. See, I've been married more than 20 years to the same woman. And she's still alive. And I'm not holding any of her relatives hostage or anything.
There's no big secret to longevity in a marriage. It's hard work, plus learning how to say, "Yeah, okay" without it sounding sarcastic.
You should also know that before I got married, I went on five or six successful dates in my life where I wasn't on the receiving end of gunfire. Call me Mack Daddy.
Now, on St. Valentine's Day, stick to the basics. No weird stuff, like hot-air balloon rides and stuff. You'd be surprised how quickly the romance goes away when she sees you bent over the gondola, ralphing all over the south parking lot of El Con Mall.
There are a few basic categories, with some Do's and Don't's:

FOOD

DO: Feed her.
DON'T: ...Take her to a place where you have to walk in line with a tray. Or where you'll have to unwrap your food when it comes.
...Do that trick where you lean the salt shaker over in a pile of salt.
...Eat off her plate. It's weird how some women just don't like that.
...Stare at the waitress' breasts.
...Take her to a place where the waitresses wear things that would make you even think about staring at their breasts.
...Order Jell-o. No reason really. I just find Jell-o creepy.

CANDY

This is a tricky one. It's certainly not the sure-fire winner it once was. If you do get her some, don't expect to sit there and watch her eat it. If she really likes you, she might let you watch her squish them open with her index finger, to see what's inside. Sorta like it was your heart.
One main rule on candy: DON'T BUY HER A PECAN LOG UNLESS SHE SPECIFICALLY ASKS FOR IT IN ADVANCE!

JEWELRY

DO: Stick with silver and gold. It turns out that "pewter" is a Romanian word that means "cheap sucker."
DON'T: ...Buy anything from a guy who says he got it right out of the window during the Rodney King riots.
...Brag about how much money you saved by using your brother-in-law's dealer ID to buy it at the Gem Show. If you care about her, you'll want her to know (or at least, think) that you were willing to pay the vastly-inflated retail price for her gift.

FLOWERS

DO: ...Go ahead and buy them, even though it's the ultimate racket. But try to remember to take the supermarket UPC label off the bottom of the vase before you get home.
DON'T: ...Ever, EVER utter the phrase, "I thought you liked these better than roses."

AMOR

DO: ...Be romantic.
DON'T: ...SPEAK FRENCH!!! It's not romantic; it's stupid. Get the sexiest man in the world and try to have him say, "Zhoo-zhu quah shway shee-sho" without looking like a complete idiot.
The only reason there are still people in France at all is that every time a Frenchman says something to a woman, it sends her screaming to the Southern border, where she's met by an Italian or a Spaniard who can speak a Romance language without sounding like a Rugrat.
After a night of passion, the woman returns to Paris, where she longingly thinks things like, "Wow, not all men smell like goats."

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