Proposing on the JumboTron; Think it Through, My Friend, Think it Through

These fellows who rent the JumboTron at the baseball park in order to propose to their partners have a higher tolerance for risk than a lot of the rest of us.

Apparently they get in touch with the fine people at the ball park on the phone and then casually ask what the going price is for proposing on-screen, in real time, in front of tens of thousands of people.

This brings a lot of witnesses to an event whose outcome isn’t fixed.

"Life is an uncertain venture, my friend," the observer wants to say, "and fortunes are subject to reversal at a moment’s notice. You might want to keep this one private."

They don’t stop to think that staging this important moment in this way introduces the possibility of stirring a lot of commentary regarding the fellow’s approach and execution, never a welcome development.

The words spelled out in letters twenty feet high generally fall along the lines of:

{Fill in the Blank}, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?

And the camera man is right there to capture the young man going down on his knee, presenting the ring, and then accepting the warm embrace from the person who has now agreed to become his wife.

Nice! Perfectly nice!

But it must be said that these young men proceed with a noteworthy degree of confidence.

I picture them in nature to be assured, directed, and goal-oriented individuals.

They are likely, over the course of their careers, to fall into the category of Titans of Business or Captains of Industry.

If we were to imagine one of these fellow’s life plan as he sees it playing out over these important years of his life, the timeline would go something like this:

·         Last week of April, begin to date

·         First week of May, settle on potential mate

·         Middle week of May, fall in love and so on

·         Next to last week of May, buy ring, reserve tuxedo

Last week of May, line up preacher, and rent reception hall

·         First day of June, get marriage license

·         Early June, the second Tuesday at the latest, propose on the JumboTron at the stadium

·         Mid-June, get married, spend rest of life in marital bliss and so on

These directed individuals always have their goal in sight, even during their busiest days of evolving into Captains of Industry.

It is hard for them to imagine where the plan could go wrong.

After all, the timeline is right there for anyone to see. What could go awry?

This manner or approach is in contrast to the ordinary proposal as undertaken by ordinary men. In that case the conversation goes something like this:

He: It’s a lovely night, don’t you think?

She: Yes, I agree.

He: The type of night that great things happen upon.

She: Yes, go on.

He: Well, is that quite right? Would you say great things would happen upon such a lovely night, or within such a lovely night?

She: I could not say. Both seem acceptable.

He: Maybe through such a lovely night. Yes, yes, I think that is more like it.

(long silence.)

She: Were you about to say something?

He: Hummph? Me? About to say something?

She: Yes, it seemed to me that you were about to say something.

He: No, no, not that I can….oh, wait! Yes I was! I was about to say something!

She: What was it?

He: Well, it was a matter of some importance.

(here follows a period of silence ranging from four minutes to an hour and a quarter.)

She: Well?

He: (with a start) Oh, you were waiting for me to talk! Isn’t that funny! And here I was waiting for you to talk! Funny, funny, funny! Don’t you think?

She: (cooly) Somewhat.

He: When people can laugh like this together, or better put when one of two people can laugh like this and the other one can look on with the sort of look people usually reserve for dogs and cats who have lost their minds, you know, kindly but resigned both, don’t you think it mean something?

She: Means something? Like what?

He: Well maybe it means that the universe has somehow or other driven them together in this great storm of chaos we call life, and then they date for a few months…

She: Three years, ten months, and a week and a half last Saturday…

He: And they get along and all, well, darn it, it just seems like they ought to make the whole thing a little more permanent.  Don’t you think?

She:  More permanent? How?

He: Well, they ought to get muh, muh, muh….

She: Muh, muh, muh….

He: (gathering all his courage) Married!

She: You know what? I think you might have something there. My answer is yes, of course, yes, yes, yes.

Now this is a happy ending indeed, but it took them a while to get there.

I don’t know how long these seventh inning stretches last at the ball park, but even if the above goes at a rapid pace more fitting to the back-and-forth patter of a vaudeville routine, it clocks in at a little over forty-two minutes.

This seems like a lot to ask of the other fine people at the stadium, who wish the lovebirds well, but also would like to get home before 5:00 the next morning.

Even worse for a fellow is if the conversation doesn’t go as planned.

I don’t care how confident a fellow is in those instances. As determined by The Chaos Theory, the conversation might go one of several ways:

He: Would you like to get married?

She: To whom? That would have a lot to do with my answer.

He:  Will you marry me?

She: Quit kidding around and hail down the cotton candy man.

He: Will you make me the happiest man in the world? 

She: Not if it means marrying you I won’t.

          He: Will you marry me?

She: Will you look at that poor dope proposing on the JumboTron with his back to the camera and blocking the view? I always feel sorry for the girl in these circumstances.

None of these are what you would call the kind of sure-fire answer to a proposal that warms a fellow’s heart. In fact, each of them is the type of answer that makes him wonder if he can get a full refund on the tuxedo and the preacher.

So, nothing is risk-free in this life, even for our future Captains of Industry and Titans of Commerce.