So... apparently I have things buried so far into my head it will take a few lifetimes for me to dig it all out. Remember two years ago when we were talking Valentine's massacres? Well I chose the term Valnetine Massacre because I knew I was being funny in an Uncle Willy (not that one) is rollin in his grave over yet another pun (yep, that one) kind of way. But for the life of me I couldn't pinpoint WHY. I was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the guy for whom the arrow flies. And I was nearly 100% certain that the church didn't start a crusade on a February 14th even though you never know what a jihadist by any name is going to do. So I resigned myself to not knowing and not caring enough to Google it. Just incase it wasn't previously used that little bit of head in the sand behavior would let me think I coined a perfectly good phrase. Called myself clever. Called it a post and said Good night to Mrs. Kallabash.
As historical footnotes go this one has been pretty successful. My girlfriends who are in the know use it as a handy reference, as it was meant to be, whenever we need to discuss the individual involved in launching the first salvo of that 3 month battle. It has also been handy as code when discussing other people's boyfriends' insensitivity. You know, as in "It could have been worse, ie... VM2010." Seems to convey quite accurately both the power of a poorly worded and tmed meltdown and also, in the intervening years the model of forgiveness. Odd right?
Well imagine my surprise as I lay watching TCM and host Robert Osborn starts talking Rod Steiger and Al Capone. Turns out, there was a St. Valentine's Day Massacre. On this day in 1929 5 members of a gang were killed in Licoln Park near Chicago. Al Capone hired men outside the city to execute his competition in his bid to take over the whole town. By many accounts, there was little left of the 5 men killed that day. Thompson sub machine guns tend to shred human tissue. Two men didn't have faces left. What a bloody mess.
And that is how I felt then. And what was done had been done by a friend. There was nothing personally wrong in the relationship between Capone and "Bugs" Moran, the target. It was just business. Unlike the 1929 massacre, there are survivors. We both done some growing since then. The friendship has survived. The playfulness in the interaction returned. I ended up with someone else for a boyfriend and he has dated a few people since then.
One of the girls at work once said that if you can be friends after you break up then you either weren't really in love to begin with or you never stopped loving each other & let your shit get in the way.
Words to ponder.
Now.... I wonder what else is lurking in the dark spots of my brain.