I have just spent the past 72 hours emmersing myself in not only one but two different Phantom of the Opera soundtracks, and then going back to compare them by watching the 2004 film version. Through all this, I have come to this conclusion:

Michael Crawford may sing better than Gerald Butler, but if I had been Christine I would have left Raoul high and dry in the graveyard in favor of Butler's Phantom. Okay, so he would have to change the murderous streak and the bouts of freakish insanity, but c'mon...can a man possibly ooze any more passion?

On a personal note, it was like watching my husband on film. Robert is a dark, passionate soul whose desires inflame me. Fortunately, he is born again and does not cater to the "keep your hands at the level of your eyes" kind of aggression, of which I am most grateful. He even shares my interest in this particular production and he enjoys discussing it with me. As we were watching the end of the sword fight between Raoul and the Phantom, he turned to me and said, "You know, if I was Raoul and you told me to spare him, I would be like, 'Stacey! After all he put you through, how can you say that?" I calmly responded, "My dear, that would not have been an issue for you would have been the one lying in the snow." He didn't get it, but my mother-in-law did and howled with laughter.

What can I say? I married my romantic hero; thick dark hair, eyes so dark they blaze black, skin that can tan under a 40 watt bulb, and a genius intellegence that never ceases to amaze me. Yes, the bouts of moodiness drives me nuts, but he is a complete package that completely thrills me. I am a fortunate woman, indeed.

Fortunately, he feels the same way about me. I think more marriages could weather the storms better if the husbands and wives were genuinely nuts about each other.

::::::::: runs off to send hubby an e-mail which humming "All I Ask Of You" ::::::::::::::

Mah Mood:romantic
|