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Jon de Vos: The measure of one’s love

Jon de Vos / The Friday Report
Fraser, CO Colorado

“With us in the studio today is the twerp, Tom Shame, to talk with us about the three C’s of diamond buying. Good morning, Tom. Say, that coat’s a little snug. Have you been smuggling Belgium chocolates along with your diamonds?”

“Uh, what? Excuse me? The Twerp?”

“Huh? No, Tom, I said, Antwerp, you know, the Diamond Capital of the world. Now, tell us about the three C’s of diamond buying.”



“You . . . ah, yes, well, there are actually four C’s, Color, Clarity, Carat and Credit Report.”

“Credit Report?”



“That’s right. An engagement ring is more than a precious stone. It’s a measure of the quantity of love that a man has for a woman. A man in love should spend five years of projected income on a diamond engagement ring, adjusted for inflation, raises and bonuses, of course. This ring, for instance, represents about 82 percent true love. It’s a flawless, unique orange gem, sixteen carats in weight. If you buy today, it comes with its own resting tripod when she tires of waving it in front of her friends.”

“Did you say, ‘flawless.’, Tom? Uh, what’s that smudge? Look! Just scratching at it with my fingernail …”

“Stop that! You’ll ruin it! Give it back. Where was I? Oh yes, an engagement ring purchased from me, Tom Shame, and not one of those rat-infested “mall” stores, says to the world that the man’s father has so much faith in the promise and love of this new daughter that he was willing to co-sign for him.”

“What do those tiny ‘mall’ diamonds say, Tom?”

“Sadly, ‘mall’ diamonds shout out that the love does not rise above the 20th percentile. It might be a smoking-hot Facebook girlfriend, possibly a kid in Detroit, or maybe even a recurring medical condition. These are all hidden risks of buying diamonds at ‘mall’ stores.”

“Tom, young couples today are concerned about value. Everyone knows the astronomical price of diamonds is based upon an artificial scarcity. If the whole Antwerp stockpile were dumped on the market, prices would plummet like the lumps of coal they are.”

“You hate me, don’t you?”

“No, Tom, I hate pitching a product I don’t believe in. I’d rather be doing Salad Shooters. Let’s get back to the script so I can get paid for this lousy commercial and dive into a bucket of gin. Gee, Tom, what’s a Cocktail Ring?”

“When young couples come in, I feed them cocktails until we come up with something that perfectly matches their parents net worth. Then we hold their hand tightly as they sign the promissory note and the Certificate of Eternal Indenture.”

“You hold their hand because they’re nervous?”

“No, no. It’s because they’re stone drunk. At the Shame Company, we insist upon complete satisfaction. As soon as our legal department is completely satisfied that there’s no way out of the slavery clause, we slap them awake and it’s off to detox. Have I mentioned that I hold the patent on the Tennis Bracelet as well?”

“Tom, some people say that buying a diamond is stupid. They’d be better off buying a reliable car or saving for a down payment on a home.”

“What? I … I never heard anyone say that. People say that? What people? Who said that? NAME NAMES! WHO’S SPREADING THAT GARBAGE?! I’LL CARVE MY INITIALS ON THEIR HEART AND FEED THEIR SPLEENS TO THE PIGS!!! I’LL BOIL THEIR GRANDMOTHERS!!!! I’LL …”

Now you have a fiend in the diamond business.


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