Voodoo Dating: White Knight
Throughout this fabulous course of events (my life), I’ve encountered several notions which I’ve fashioned into perquisites for my personal ‘White Knight’. Ideas such as the Knight must indeed be white, play the harmonica, and be tall never quite made the list. Instead, my notions formulated their own gestation period from being Harrison Ford-esc, hailing from California, singing ‘White Room’ or ‘Space Oddity’ on command, to sitting through An Affair to Remember (not that anyone with a soul or an ounce of romanticism couldn’t sit through that film).
So, how white does the Knight have to be in order to grind up the grade and produce an all-out stellar partner? While my Boy Wonder gets over-the-top marks for everything from style to stubbornness, I’m going to gift you several (or five) of my other favourites.
Gregory Peck: The man is rounded-out rough suave. He exfoliated compassion and competence between his children and his criminal case in To Kill a Mockingbird. In Roman Holiday he took on Audrey Hepburn’s Princess character and manned-up to keep her hijinks out of the press because he realized his adoration for her over his need to further his profession.
George Peppard: God smack and little fishes, the man is well-dressed-quietly-stating-the-obvious (and humourously, too!) sophistication. If you’ve even seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s, not only could you possibly relate, but also confirm. He is sweet, strong, and about 70% of the reason I needed to go to Tiffany’s when I visited NYC. Plus, the man is from Michigan-representin’ the D!
Mr. Vree: Heck yawse my High School Spanish instructor made it into the mix at lucky number three. If Greg Peck is suave and Georgie is stating the oblivious, Mr. Vree was (and probably still is) pure sex. The man is Dutch, speaks five or twelve languages, is the only human I could EVER stomach a Heineken with, lived in a cave for a year, and gypsily slept on some train tracks in Nova Scotia. He also remarked, ‘I’m not sure what you’re learning in my class, but I see you’re learning something’ when I passed him a note, in Spanish, which read, ‘I need a claim cheque for my chicken’. Romantically, I am proud to write that the only time I ever witnessed an embarrassed Mr. Vree was when I pencilled ‘I love you’ on my eyelids.
Paul Furgale: The bassist for Painted Thin, one of my best Canadian Punk bands. Paul and his fellow Painter, Stephen Carroll, played Denison University while I was in attendance there. Besides being typically Canadian and lovely, Paul was genuinely charming when I served him a coffee & Coca~Cola. He exclaimed, ‘Goodness, you’re so nice! I can’t believe you said “Thank you” when I purchased my drinks! You’re very sweet.’
Chris Osgood: The brilliant goalie for the Detroit Red Wings is my first Hockey crush. While he weaves in and out of ranking with Kris Draper, the stick of it is that I adore #30. He’s a West Coast Canadian Boy with a lotta heart, a stellar goalie when he’s in his zone, and I have to admire anyone who is that stubborn about adding eye protection to his facemask.
Those are the Boys, the Knights of the White, the black curtains in my Cream, etc. Anybody else care to pony up?