Creating a new, user friendly, system for finding a good man or woman

One day, as I was checking my snail mail, my neighbor watched her boyfriend leave in a puff of motorcycle smoke.

She turned to me and said "All I want is Orange Arrows".

I asked. She said "I want to be able to go out any where ... and every where I look, the good men are identified with orange arrows floating above their heads. That would rock." She turned back to her house without another word.

You know ... I like the idea. Just think: go to a mall, walk around. Just think about the approach. "Hi, I see that you are a good man. What do you like to do in your spare time?"

What would be your system?

He just needs to walk up to me and say, "You complete me." That is the sign I am looking for.........not.

Ha! Ha!

OK. This thread tickles me ... and I'm in the mood to write an epic. Just ignore me ...

My mom is an only child, and so is her best friend from high school and college. So, it was not a surprise that the little old ladies decided to move in together. One of the reasons might have been that Miss M had never lived alone. Mom is independent but Miss M, extrovert on wheels, needed company.

However, at some point Mom had to have major surgery. She would be in the hospital several days. Miss M was distraught. She would be alone. Miss M decided she needed something special to feel safe in this big lonely house. Apparently her big, beautiful, polished gun wasn't cutting it.

Miss M found this safety website. You know the kind: window locks, car kits, etc. Miss M made a selection and waiting for arrival. But shipment was late. Mom was in the hospital. At the hospital, Miss M nervously asked me over to the house to help her get situated. No problem.

In the den was an enormous box. Miss M told me her feeling of personal safety was in this box. I used Miss M's pocket knife and pulled several large bundles out.

What unfolded was ... well ... Safety Man.

Safety Man was intended to be six feet tall with life like hands and head. Intended. You see, the body of Safety Man was a soft plastic shell. Like a balloon. Miss M perched on the Duncan Fife. She stared at me. I stared at her. I raised a life-like hand. She nodded. I yanked out the instructions and read them. I was to inflate Safety Man's body and attach his hands and head afterward. I looked at Miss M. She smiled sweetly. I tried to find the inflation area. Well, there were several. One on each appendage and one on top of his neck where the head would go. I asked for a pump. Miss M shook her head.

I sat in a wing-back chair with Safety Man's body draped across my lap and legs. Geez. But, I love my mother, I love my mother, I love Miss M.

I inflated an arm. Attached the hand. Same on the other side. Weirdness. Giggled. Miss M giggled. I inflated the legs. Chortle. I stretched Safety Man across me. Looked down at the life-like head on the floor. Sighed. Deep breath. Pulled out the intake valve on his neck and proceeded to blow Safety Man to full size.

This is where I lost it. I fell out of the wingback laughing. Miss M was squealing. Finally, I pulled myself off Safety Man and attached his lovely head. I put him in the wingback and gave him a thorough inspection. He was quite a man. Really. Rugged face with a little silver in his hair. Nice hands. Safety Man was hot. Miss M wandered off to get some of her father's old clothes. We dressed Safety Man and put him in the living room in front of the picture window.

Now, Miss M was safe. No one would bother her with a big plastic man in her house.

I was to learn later that Safety Man took road trips to the hospital. *CO hangs head.* The bank tellers learned of Safety Man.

You'd think they would box him up after his usefulness had passed. Um, no. Sam, as we now call him, is dressed for each season. Normally, he hangs out in the billiard room. But he has been known to take trips to Hilton Head and at times of great stress, is prominently positioned in the living room at the picture window.

*sigh*

I have no illusions that I have an average family. But they keep life interesting.

OK. This thread tickles me ... and I'm in the mood to write an epic. Just ignore me ...

My mom is an only child, and so is her best friend from high school and college. So, it was not a surprise that the little old ladies decided to move in together. One of the reasons might have been that Miss M had never lived alone. Mom is independent but Miss M, extrovert on wheels, needed company.

However, at some point Mom had to have major surgery. She would be in the hospital several days. Miss M was distraught. She would be alone. Miss M decided she needed something special to feel safe in this big lonely house. Apparently her big, beautiful, polished gun wasn't cutting it.

Miss M found this safety website. You know the kind: window locks, car kits, etc. Miss M made a selection and waiting for arrival. But shipment was late. Mom was in the hospital. At the hospital, Miss M nervously asked me over to the house to help her get situated. No problem.

In the den was an enormous box. Miss M told me her feeling of personal safety was in this box. I used Miss M's pocket knife and pulled several large bundles out.

What unfolded was ... well ... Safety Man.

Safety Man was intended to be six feet tall with life like hands and head. Intended. You see, the body of Safety Man was a soft plastic shell. Like a balloon. Miss M perched on the Duncan Fife. She stared at me. I stared at her. I raised a life-like hand. She nodded. I yanked out the instructions and read them. I was to inflate Safety Man's body and attach his hands and head afterward. I looked at Miss M. She smiled sweetly. I tried to find the inflation area. Well, there were several. One on each appendage and one on top of his neck where the head would go. I asked for a pump. Miss M shook her head.

I sat in a wing-back chair with Safety Man's body draped across my lap and legs. Geez. But, I love my mother, I love my mother, I love Miss M.

I inflated an arm. Attached the hand. Same on the other side. Weirdness. Giggled. Miss M giggled. I inflated the legs. Chortle. I stretched Safety Man across me. Looked down at the life-like head on the floor. Sighed. Deep breath. Pulled out the intake valve on his neck and proceeded to blow Safety Man to full size.

This is where I lost it. I fell out of the wingback laughing. Miss M was squealing. Finally, I pulled myself off Safety Man and attached his lovely head. I put him in the wingback and gave him a thorough inspection. He was quite a man. Really. Rugged face with a little silver in his hair. Nice hands. Safety Man was hot. Miss M wandered off to get some of her father's old clothes. We dressed Safety Man and put him in the living room in front of the picture window.

Now, Miss M was safe. No one would bother her with a big plastic man in her house.

I was to learn later that Safety Man took road trips to the hospital. *CO hangs head.* The bank tellers learned of Safety Man.

You'd think they would box him up after his usefulness had passed. Um, no. Sam, as we now call him, is dressed for each season. Normally, he hangs out in the billiard room. But he has been known to take trips to Hilton Head and at times of great stress, is prominently positioned in the living room at the picture window.

*sigh*

I have no illusions that I have an average family. But they keep life interesting.

I now love your family.

OK. This thread tickles me ... and I'm in the mood to write an epic. Just ignore me ...

My mom is an only child, and so is her best friend from high school and college. So, it was not a surprise that the little old ladies decided to move in together. One of the reasons might have been that Miss M had never lived alone. Mom is independent but Miss M, extrovert on wheels, needed company.

However, at some point Mom had to have major surgery. She would be in the hospital several days. Miss M was distraught. She would be alone. Miss M decided she needed something special to feel safe in this big lonely house. Apparently her big, beautiful, polished gun wasn't cutting it.

Miss M found this safety website. You know the kind: window locks, car kits, etc. Miss M made a selection and waiting for arrival. But shipment was late. Mom was in the hospital. At the hospital, Miss M nervously asked me over to the house to help her get situated. No problem.

In the den was an enormous box. Miss M told me her feeling of personal safety was in this box. I used Miss M's pocket knife and pulled several large bundles out.

What unfolded was ... well ... Safety Man.

Safety Man was intended to be six feet tall with life like hands and head. Intended. You see, the body of Safety Man was a soft plastic shell. Like a balloon. Miss M perched on the Duncan Fife. She stared at me. I stared at her. I raised a life-like hand. She nodded. I yanked out the instructions and read them. I was to inflate Safety Man's body and attach his hands and head afterward. I looked at Miss M. She smiled sweetly. I tried to find the inflation area. Well, there were several. One on each appendage and one on top of his neck where the head would go. I asked for a pump. Miss M shook her head.

I sat in a wing-back chair with Safety Man's body draped across my lap and legs. Geez. But, I love my mother, I love my mother, I love Miss M.

I inflated an arm. Attached the hand. Same on the other side. Weirdness. Giggled. Miss M giggled. I inflated the legs. Chortle. I stretched Safety Man across me. Looked down at the life-like head on the floor. Sighed. Deep breath. Pulled out the intake valve on his neck and proceeded to blow Safety Man to full size.

This is where I lost it. I fell out of the wingback laughing. Miss M was squealing. Finally, I pulled myself off Safety Man and attached his lovely head. I put him in the wingback and gave him a thorough inspection. He was quite a man. Really. Rugged face with a little silver in his hair. Nice hands. Safety Man was hot. Miss M wandered off to get some of her father's old clothes. We dressed Safety Man and put him in the living room in front of the picture window.

Now, Miss M was safe. No one would bother her with a big plastic man in her house.

I was to learn later that Safety Man took road trips to the hospital. *CO hangs head.* The bank tellers learned of Safety Man.

You'd think they would box him up after his usefulness had passed. Um, no. Sam, as we now call him, is dressed for each season. Normally, he hangs out in the billiard room. But he has been known to take trips to Hilton Head and at times of great stress, is prominently positioned in the living room at the picture window.

*sigh*

I have no illusions that I have an average family. But they keep life interesting.