The end of intrigue?

I'd never heard of the idea of married couples having "Date Night" until three years ago.

Like all new ideas, "Date Night" took some time to work its way through the calcified neuron tunnels in my brain pan and even though I'm not married, Date Night makes such good sense I gotta wonder why nobody thought of it sooner.

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Remember what romance was like back in high school? The thrill lasted for about five minutes after finding out that so-and-so really liked you, too. Then all so-and-so's flaws, irritating habits and clinging-ness dimmed your starry-eyed pulse and Restlessness began clawing its way through your daydreams ... and forced you to confront the realization that, "Hey! He/She's boring and irritating to be around ... and now I know I can do a lot better!"

Romance tended to wear think pretty quickly back then.

And so the search started all over again for someone "better" who's not only more attractive, but more intriguing, more mysterious and perhaps even more elusive ... someone who'd not only start our hearts a-fluttering, but also someone with the juice to keep the fluttering going and going and going, in ways we never get tired of enjoying.

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Do we really fall in love with a person, or with the ooey-gooey way that person makes us feel?

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Ugh, then along comes marriage ... usually for a barn-full of wrong reasons ... accompanied by a sense of finality, closure and uncertainty: I'm no longer single, no longer free to pursue romance, and no longer free to feel attractive or even desirable.

Sounds like an ALARM going off because the marital boiler lost all its steam.

The harsh, unavoidable realities of sharing life with another person sprout seed pods like kudzu in an untended tomato patch. Ignored and overlooked long enough, the spreading vines find nurture in the marital manure and reproduce themselves until the undergrowth becomes neck-deep ... and threatens to suffocate everything underneath ... including communication.

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Mary Pickford was the original Queen of Hollywood. Newspapers called her "the most desirable woman on earth" even though she was married and, unusual for Hollywood, remained faithful to her husband, Douglas Fairbanks, until his death.

The point is that what made her irresistible to men wasn't her promiscuity, but her absolute fidelity. Every man on earth (especially those Lotharios brash enough to actually try) knew he stood no chance, none whatsoever. It was her total unattainability that made Mary Pickford so obsessively intriguing.

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Especially in affairs of the heart, men seem helplessly lured and attracted to The Unattainable, Impossible Challenge. We can't help or deny it. It's in men's nature to try and test themselves, to succeed and satisfy his ego's questions and resolve any doubts about his abilities.

Men yearn to find a noble and perfect cause, to rise up from the anonymity of their peers, to take action and announce to the world, "Step aside, losers. I can do this."

And is there anything on earth more compelling and uncertain than pursuing a woman's heart?

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Who am I to offer advice, particularly when it comes to marriage? Just seems to me that if a wife was worth pursuing once, she's certainly worth pursuing again and again for a lifetime. In part because men tend to forget

Young and ancient, innocent and corrupt
In every woman
A mystery.

- John Fowles, The Magus

A man might think he's caught a woman, but her heart isn't something he can keep and hold onto with his hands.