by Scott Simon



kissLove is the greatest emotion there is.

Just ask anyone who has given it all up, burned every bridge, endured the risk of the greatest pain of loss …

But you know that.   You’ve felt it.  So have I.

The overpowering joy of it, the buzz that won’t wear off, the put-yourself-in-front-of-a-train for someone else kind of love.

And it’s not easy.  Love is a shady cat some times.  The emotion is timeless, but our love can be as fleeting as a face on a passing subway car.  It can inspire us with its beauty, then just as quickly morph into its evil step-twin.  It is a uniquely personal feeling, but we also own it communally, often in art and song.

Thom Yorke tells us he will “drown my beliefs to have your babies.”   2pac takes it a different direction with “Whassup – can you get away – let me come sweep you up.” Arctic Monkeys go superbly-English with “You’re rarer than a can of dandelion … and those other girls are just post mix lemonade.”

I know that G. Love’s baby “got sauce”  ’cause we went to Skidmore together.  Jerry reaches deep about that awesome “lovely view of heaven, but I’d rather be with you.”  The Buzzcock’s just want to touch it.

And Billie Joe, in an insanely tender and touching moment towards his wife, sings “My beating heart belongs to you, I walked for miles ’til I found you.”

Friends, in these notes and vocals we all all locate our common love-DNA.

Mix Tape
(Oh, and there’s that song that still rattles me after I gave a copy of it on a mixtape to my 9th grade girlfriend after she smashed my heart into 600 pieces, “So you can get on with your search baby, and I can get on with mine.  And maybe one day we will find … that is wasn’t really wasted time.”  My heart still hurts listening to that.)

What’s your song?

You know you have it.  That song that flushes your face.  Or heats you up.  Or sends the tingles.  Or breaks your heart all over again.

That one song will teach you so much about love – not just timeless, existential love – but the love that’s branded its particular logo on YOUR hide forever.

Play that song again today, and dive deep into that feeling.


This is where is happens baby













February, of course, is the month of LOVE.

(You know, Valentines Day and all)

And for good reason.  You might be interested to know the following statistics:

1,400 – the number of varieties of Hallmark Valentines cards

$136.96 – the average amount each American spends on Valentines Day

40.7% – the percentage of people who will buy gifts on their smartphone

And yes …

85% – people who hope or expect to have sex on Valentine’s Day.

In other words, this is a big day, people!   So let’s buy those cards … spend that money … use our smartphones … and get it on.

But first.

Before that.

I would like to make a pitch.

Get ready.

This is something that you will NEVER find on one of the 1,400 awesome varieties of Hallmark cards.

Here it is:  in the two weeks prior to Valentine’s Day, let’s really show love.

To ourselves.

Yep.  Before we can give ourselves fully on Valentine’s Day, let’s all take the time to invest in self-love, self-care, self-understanding.

Whatever that means to you.  Crack open a great book.  Get your butt back to the gym.  Grab a drink with a couple old friends.  Go vegan.  Whatever.

Just Own It.





It would be totally dis-ingenuous of me to make a pitch for two weeks self-love and not ante up myself.  So, let me start with an admission.


All kinds of food – brunch food, fried boudin with pickled peppers, soul-enriching ramenethereal bites which make me want to cry when I eat them, food that brings me back to my childhood, and food served in a innocuous stripmall.

And when it is paired with a freezing cold (gotta be freezing cold) Ketel One martini or an Oregon Pinot, I can be found floating smilingly and helplessly in the ether.

You can guess that the food I love is not always the most, let me say, ah, healthy, food out there.  I know how important eating healthy is, and in that singular moment of shavasana on my yoga mat re-commit myself to it …

But in the end, Crop’s blazingly hot deep-fried tomatoes stuffed with chorizo and monterey jack usually wins out.

So, in an effort to live out my words as deeds, I commit the following:

Jenna Pacelli detox photoStarting on February 2nd, after toxing heavily at a Superbowl party the night before, I will take on – wholeheartedly – Jenna Pacelli’s famous 15-day whole food detox.  What does that mean?

No sugar, no dairy, no gluten, no beans, no coffee, no alcohol, no meat.  15 days.  I will do this.

I will blog about it daily (or close to daily) on the blog.

You?  Join me.  Figure out your self-love two-weeker, and do it.  E-mail me and let me know about it if you’d like.  I post it on the blog so you can inspire someone else.

And, then, on Valentine’s Day – somewhere between the $136.97 meal and the sex – truly open your heart to someone else.

Because you opened yours first.



let’s be friends