Welcome readers, to the inaugural post in what may or may not become a regular series on this fair blog: We Wish You Were Right, But Goshdarnit! You're Wrong. Our featured player this week is, appropriately, the Baroness Schraeder, a.k.a. Elsa, a.k.a. the apathetic, draped-in-pointless-luxury Austrian lady of leisure who was presumptuous enough to think she could get in between Maria and Captain von Trapp. Ha! As if, lady...
Even a stopped clock is, as we know, right twice a day, and the Baroness was on the money with: "Somewhere out there is a young lady who I think will never be a nun." Good call, Elsa. And hey, we'll even grant that maybe, just maybe, that strudel was entirely too delicious for your figure.
But we're here today to talk about some dangerous advice you've been doling out to impressionable young girls who might develop a bad "habit" (zomg punz, stop it...) because of you.
Know what we're talking about, Elsa?...
...That's right!
"There's nothing more irresistible to a man than a woman who's in love with him."
WRONG.
Like, beyond wrong. A brand-new stratosphere of wrong.
What's next, Elsa? "Yes, by all means invade Russia in the winter"? "Sure, why not Mr. President, take a ride through Dallas in an open-top convertible"? "Getting involved in a land war in Asia sounds like a fantastic idea"? What kind of advice is this to give to the impressionable viewers of The Sound of Music?!
It's just patently not true. In fact, everyone from dastardly pick up artists who practice the art of "Negging" to serial monogamists who haven't been without a boyfriend since they were twelve will tell you the same thing: men get bored pretty fast by a woman who's super-obviously into them. Cue a vapid Cosmo article about how it's "All About The Chase, My Slutsky Little 'Hos" or some such nonsense.
Consider this a PSA warning for all little girls sporting Shirley Temple curls: Elsa is WRONG and you shouldn't tell little Frankie how you think the two of you are going to get married and have lots of babies next time you find yourselves together on the playground. Why don't you spit in his Sunny D instead? That's how you win the hearts and minds of men.
Besides, how can you trust a character - in a musical! - who barely has any songs? In the film she has all of 0 and in the stage play? A whopping 2, including this elitist little ditty (a duet with Uncle Max)...
So, skidoos, the moral of the story is plain: don't say "I Love You" unless you're three sheets to the wind and a countdown to zero away from breathing your last. Only under those circumstances is an ILY even marginally acceptable.
***
OK, OK fine. You caught us. We don't really believe that. We're world-class hopeless romantics at heart (or, if Joan Wilder is even the teensiest bit legit, world-class hopeful romantics).
We're just still pissed at Elsa. All that false hope is just inexcusable.
I hear you ladies but I gotta hold out hope that there's a guy or two out there who isn't terrified of a woman being in love with him. here's hoping!
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