This is how the French balladeer, Charles Aznavour, lovingly and frustratingly described the woman in his life in the song She.
He sang that the woman is a study in contrast and if you’re lucky, you’ll see this unfold before your eyes within 24 hours. Each one changes in demeanor and desires depending on the circumstances and the demands imposed on her by different personalities she meets and interacts with.
I searched for the song on YouTube where I watched Charles Aznavour sing it to an audience made up mostly of adoring and consenting women. After all, what woman won’t feel honored and pleased to be the subject of a beautiful love song? It was a lyrical ode that only a man enamored with love could sing and one that most women would love to be serenaded with.
Let’s follow the hands of the clock and imagine as she fits into these varied profiles:
By 7 a.m., she’d jump out of bed rushing to finish her toilette, determined to sit down to a full and hearty breakfast but couldn’t if she must beat the morning rush and avoid the traffic gridlocks. She’s groggy, grumpy, and monstrous (if she drives a car) and harassed.
But if retired, she’d say her devotional prayers, go to Mass at early dawn, read a verse from the Scripture and take her breakfast leisurely. She’s prayerful, cheerful, perky and eager to face a new day.
By 8 a.m., she’d be at work shuffling through stocks of paper, making and taking phone calls, flashing her corporate smile and be in her gray- or black-suited best to win clients’ confidence and admiration. She’s focused, determined, aggressive and gung-ho.
If retired, she’d still be at the breakfast table skimming through the morning dailies if not watching the morning show on satellite television. She’s cool and relaxed and in a slow rock, rumba state of mind.
By midday, she’d be hungry and would want to load on carbohydrates and sweets, but what about her diet? She can be indulgent and/or prudent.
If retired, she’d be lunching with friends and exchanging stories about their children, grandchildren, best buys (like a magnifying glass for the cell phone), new trends (like a two-color flat shoes), breaking news and maybe talk about her spouse, companion or partner. She’s animated, funny and philosophical.
By 2 p.m., she’d be at her peak, negotiating and arguing for more concessions or finishing the bulk of her paperwork. She’s still focused and aggressive.
If retired, her luncheon would stretch but she would be thinking of preparing something scrumptious for her children and spouse. She’s generous and creative.
By 5 p.m., she’d be doing more of the same but also entertaining thoughts of how to wind down her day. She feels accomplished and fulfilled.
If retired, she’d be back from lunch tending to her garden and would have finished a full hour in the gym or exercising in front of a fitness video. She’s athletic and health-conscious.
By nightfall, she’d be dining with her favorite beau or would still be in pursuit of that deal or contract. She’s fun and gregarious and intriguing.
If retired, she would have cooked or supervised a hearty meal, bid her grandchildren adieu (until the next day), and would have caught the latest on the world and local news. She’s doting, loving and well-informed.
Did you notice how many adjectives one can use to define a woman in the course of a day?
Now fired with curiosity, I decided to ask my children, “What is my profile?” They exchanged glances, unsure of how to handle this latest test of wits from their mommy dearest.
My daughter gamely replied, “Mom, you’re the Tasmanian ‘She-Devil’ when you whirl and twirl whenever you see dirt, clutter, and anything that’s not right and proper in our lives.” My son continued, “But you can be a sweet, thoughtful, can-do-no-harm, cherubic angel when you stop spinning and twirling.”
I shared this description with my peers and they all gave a hearty laugh. “Do you think that’s funny?” I asked.
One friend turned to me and said, “Listen to my profile as described by my brood:
“We sat down to a family meal that I painstakingly baked, roasted and grilled. I was making a long, impassioned speech (husband called it a ‘tirade of nitpicking’), frustrated over how messy the house was with daughter, son and husband making a collective heap of trash in their respective corners not to mention what they’re doing in their lives.
‘The phone suddenly rang and I lifted the receiver and curtly replied, Hello...@#%*!’
“It was my amiga, my best friend. In a flash, my countenance changed. It became soft and gentle — like being in love — and I listened attentively to my amiga who was asking for a donation to build a house for the elderly. She made me laugh to the point that I completely forgot about my frustration.
“Unknowingly, my husband, my daughter and my son were exchanging glances, amazed at the instant change in my demeanor. They saw me glowing. I was gracious and patient, in my best behavior that could make all our teachers in high school swell with pride. When I placed the phone down, my husband remarked calmly, ‘Honey, sweet munchkins, your children and I have come to an irrevocable decision. In our next life, we’re going to make sure that we meet again as your amigas!’”
Which husband believes this, too?