Love Is In The Air?

     Today is Valentine's Day and love is in the air.  I may not be able to remember what I had for lunch yesterday, but I can still sing the words to that song by John Paul Young.  "Love Is In The Air", 1977, ah yes, the disco days.

     Since love is the big topic for the day, I'm going to blog about something else in the air.  Gas.  You know, flatulence, the dreaded fart.   I don't know what it is about passing gas that can turn a room full of stone faced individuals into a blubbering heap of hysteria, but it always seems to do the trick.  

     When I was a kid, fart was considered a four letter word, a word that got that "look" from Mother.  But, sister Lela bought one of my grandsons a book about a farting dog and she is WAY older than I am, so I guess it's OK for me to use it now.  Now a days, you can even buy a fart machine for flatulenciness entertainment.

     My first encounter with a fart machine was at a gathering of some friends.  We had just started our Friday Night Supper Club with this group.  Several of them had been my husband's classmates in high school so I knew them, but I didn't know them well.  After supper we went to one of the couples' house to socialize and play some billiards.  

     The lady of the house and my husband situated themselves on a couch on one side of the room and unbeknownst to the rest of us, they had a fart machine hid between them.  When it was my turn to shoot, every time I bent over, the fart machine went off.  This was a deluxe model fart machine because it made four different entertaining sounds.  

     Those two laughed like idiots, but the other ladies of our group were failing to see the humor in it because they really thought I was actually farting.  Since I was the newcomer of the bunch, I certainly wasn't racking up many popularity points.  One of their husbands even commented that he didn't realize women could fart like that. 
Seriously?  Oh yes, but we can.

     When my husband's birthday rolled around his friend gave him the deluxe model fart machine and it has been a big hit with him and his grandsons.  Literally bringing tears to their eyes in an electronic sort of way.

     Most men find farting most entertaining.  They take great pride in letting a stinker slip and usually try to do so while you are standing at the check out in a clothing store.  Naturally, they keep right on walking so you are left to stare blankly into the eyes of the check out person.

     Farting knows no language barrier either.  A very good friend of mine shared the following story.  She was in the deep south with a group of friends close to the border of Mexico.  They had stopped at a huge warehouse full of Mexican laced fare.  She had entered an area that was tucked away in the back of the warehouse to look around.  Since she was there by herself, she let one rip.  No sooner had she done so, two handsome young Latinos entered her space.
She may not have understood the language, but she sure knew what they were saying.  She said she couldn't get out of there fast enough. 

     Well, that pretty much clears the air on farting.  I've used the word fart, or variances of it, fifteen times and ya know what?  I think I feel better!

     Happy Valentine's Day.