David Spates "Therefore I Am" Published May 20, 2003

Please get your hands out of your wife's pockets

Maybe I'm a prude, but most PDAs make me cringe.

What do I have against personal digital assistants, you ask? After all, they're quite handy for keeping telephone numbers, addresses and reminders to pick up a case of Yoo-hoo after work. What's wrong with that?

Those aren't the PDAs I'm talking about. Incidentally, I maintain a retro-style PDA. A few years ago I realized that personal digital assistants are just a flashy replacement for paper and pen -- so I just carry around a pen and some paper. I don't have to remember to charge the batteries, the paper has no problem deciphering my penmanship, and it's no sweat to sync data with my home computer.

That being said, the PDAs that give me the willies are public displays of affection. Maybe I'm just getting older, and, again, maybe I'm a prude, but it seems as though PDAs are becoming more flagrant and widespread than in years past. When I see a couple walking through the mall with their limbs intertwined and their faces locked at the lips, I fight a noble urge to hose them down. Hey Romeo, you and the queen need to take that somewhere else. I just bought a extra-large slice of Sbarro, and you two are killing my appetite.

It's a very fine line between an acceptable PDA and an unseemly one. In the World According to Dave, a peck on the cheek or even a quick smooch on the lips is OK PDA. Holding hands is fine, as long as the two lovebirds in question are willing to unclasp their hands when needed.

An unwillingness to let go of your beloved's hand, no matter what the circumstance, is a bad PDA. Here's an example: Have you ever been walking through a really crowded room, a room so crowded that everyone is smashed together, chest to back, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip?

There's always at least one couple holding hands, thereby transforming themselves from two nimble individuals into one slow-moving bloc that bottlenecks the flow of humanity. For goodness sake, just let go of your sweetie's hand and let him or her arrive at your mutual destination as a free-thinking, self-directed entity.

My "favorite" PDA is when a couple will, sigh, put one another's hands in the other person's back pocket as they're walking. It's just so -- high school. Rarely does one see such tacky behavior outside the confines of a county fair, but I saw it the other day. My eyes nearly rolled out of my sockets as I pointed out the double-grope to my wife, who had to bite her lower lip to keep from snickering. Then, just for good measure, she backhanded me in the stomach for my efforts. That's a PDA in our family.

Some PDAs are less overt than others, less open and obvious than canoodling in a restaurant booth. For instance, I take note when a couple riding in a pickup truck sit very close together, even though there's plenty of room for them to have their own comfortable space. Of course, you need to have pickup with bench-style seats to pull off this a move, but it's a sure way to express to the world that you're deeply in love -- or at least deeply in lust. I wonder if they ride everywhere like this, or maybe I'm just catching them in a moment of passion. I'd think that after 300 miles or so of snuggling in a stuffy pickup cab, you'd want a little personal space, but that's just me.

People who enjoy performing PDAs will say they have a right to express their love anyway they want, and if I don't like it, well, that's tough. They're right, I guess, but it's not just me. I think most of us prefer to be spared groping in the post office and soul-kissing in the grocery store. We have no interest in their love lives, and, truth be told, they appear insecure and unconfident. Maybe they are and maybe they're not, but that's the way it comes across. They doth protest too much, methinks.

If they truly are insecure and unconfident about themselves or their relationship or their lives or whatever, I wonder if they do the same things at home -- private displays of affection, if you will. Do they walk around the house with each other's hands in their pockets? Do they fold their laundry while kissing? How does the yard ever get mowed at their place? Can you imagine trying to clean out your gutters with your spouse's hand in your back pocket?

I probably don't want to know what goes on at home. If you're willing to walk around town with your hand in your wife's or girlfriend's (or both!) pocket, I can only guess what you do behind closed doors. Just do us all a favor and leave us out of it.

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David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column is published each Tuesday. He can be reached at davespates@chartertn.net.