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Dear Brian

By Sister Golden Hair Surprise*

Why me? You may be asking. Why am I receiving this proposal when I have a whole roster of teammates who are just as worthy as I am? And my response to you is, first of all, not all your teammates are MVPs, and secondly, why the hell not! You are a man. I am a woman. We are complete strangers, and therefore, you have not failed to hurdle my impossibly high bar of expectation.

Do I love you? Get real, Brian. I don't even know you. But I see no reason why I can't be in love with the idea of you. I won't lie to you Brian, for our relationship cannot be based on lies, but I have been around the giddy merry-go-round once or twice. In those madcap trips to the playground of love, I scraped my knees, got hard to wash rust stains from old equipment, had my summer dress embarrassingly flip up in the merry-go-round breeze, and fell face first into the sand. I'd like to think that in my slightly older than you age I have learned a thing or two. I'm confident that with my experience and directorial skills, I can now paint a prettier picture than Betty and Bud's. Yes, I have heard the old philosophy that one cannot control matters of the heart; but one can control matters of the mind. True, some might not see me writing this romance and essentially playing cupid as being the same as the real deal, but I know a quarterback of a Super Bowl team like you can appreciate my zealous attitude to win this game and get my super giddy glow at all costs.

I know you are a talented player, Brian, but do you think you could really handle whisking me away to whatever location my imagination could conjure up; knowing the lyrics to Escape, the Pina Colada Song; putting band-aids on my boo-boos; finishing the quote, "I shot an elephant in my pants!"; not being intimidated by my feather boa and Huggy Bear hat; planting flowers with me; leading me around an empty dance floor to the beat of Van Morrison's Moondance; sending me tantalizing e-mails that make me smile and have me respond with excerpts from obscure 70s tunes; finding me incredibly stunning even in a red plaid lumberjack shirt; when in public not walking 20 yards ahead of me forcing passersby to question if we are brother and sister or simply cousins; embracing my mood swings as a challenge; never leaving me in doubt; looking into my eyes and answering me with, "I have the rest of my life"; and most importantly, leaving me smiling even after the dream is done?

This is no ol' bootleg play, Brian. Only in my mind can I reward you for my perfect giddiness by never asking why you don't call, not being too terribly upset that you live in another state and not know of my existence, and never making John Elway comparisons.

I think you will agree that, as written, we have something special here, and the very fact that we do not know one another only adds to the excitement and mystery of our secret romance; not to mention, I will never have to actually live in your superstar shadow.

Of course, should you find that you can handle the aforementioned for real, and indeed, are not a Bud, and can score me some Bronco tickets, I might be willing to reconsider exposing my heart once again.

Yours truly,
Sister Golden Hair Surprise

P.S. Should you hear malicious rumors about Dear Harrison Ford, Dear Robert Redford, and Dear Colby from Survivor letters circulating around, please disregard them.

About the author:

*Sister Golden Hair Surprise (a.k.a. Shannan Keenan) is a writer and filmmaker living in Southern California with her dog, three horses, and luscious long blonde hair. Through her production company Just Hank Productions, Shannan wrote, directed, and produced the critically acclaimed independent feature LOAVES. Shannan's current script RANDY, about a 40-year-old Kansas dishwasher searching for the meaning of his life, has placed in several screenwriting competitions, thus, once again proving that Shannan is the voice for loser men of all ages. www.justhank.com

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