He’s No George Clooney, But…

… But I love him anyway. Much as you can love an animated super-celebrity, at least.

How could anyone not love him. His tall, confident carriage. His laconic demeanor. His alluring, northern-midlands dialect. His asymmetric blue eyes. His stylish, high-waisted aubergine pants. His hip, thick patch of leprechaun-green hair…

Yes, it’s true: I have fallen for Ferb Fletcher.

The chemistry of my attraction to Ferb is primal. For starters, he’s multilingual, capable of speaking in a variety of human, animal and alien tongues. Ferb is also well read, a music aficionado and master of countless instruments, an amazing dancer and the holder of five world records (including one for the largest bowling ball). He even writes a blog. And, being left-handed, Ferb is clearly right-brain dominant with over-the-top levels of creativity and focus.

Ferb is also an engineering genius. He’s a ultimate handyman, capable of building virtually anything. Need a time machine? No problem.  A private surfing beach? You’ve got it. A rocket ship, giant robotic shark, x-ray spectacles, a magic carpet or a true-to-scale replica of Niagra Falls? Coming right up! Most women get wet at the idea of a man who looks great in a tux or surprises her with flowers and all things romantic, but those steely good looks won’t get you very far if you’re ever stranded on a remote, deserted island. George Clooney would never know how to build a tropical themed two-bedroom bungalow with built-in, bedside margarita blender. No siree: give me a man who can use his (ahem) tools and I will forever swoon.

I know what you’re thinking about those steely good looks. I realize that Ferb hardly qualifies as man meat.  In fact, his physique is more along the lines of Geek gods than Greek ones. But my feelings for Ferb reach beyond the physical. He is charming, generous, endearing and loyal to a fault. And while he is a man of few words, Ferb speaks with precision and wit, a plethora of fascinating articulations always at the ready… including these dandy samples heard just this past week:

‘That was definitely better than the gorilla in the cake.’

‘I smell magma.’

‘The cartilaginous fibers from the bovine patella structure gives it a fun, bouncy quality.’

Good heavens… someone fan me.

But despite my passion for my pint-sized paramour, I know this affair is not meant to be. Ferb is only available for 72 minutes each day, and even this limited time is at the mercy of Disney’s programming schedule.  He’s also animated, which poses its own series of difficulties.  Then there’s our embarrassing age difference: I am approaching the semicentennial of my birth and – according to his Wikipedia bio – Ferb is barely 13 years old.

Alas, our love will remain sadly unrequited.

Oh, Ferb, my heart aches.  No worries, though: we’ll still have our special times at 5:00 am weekdays and 9:00 pm Fridays. Meanwhile, grow up and build us a de-animator machine…