Oldies but goodies

As mentioned before, I've been listening to Patsy Cline lately, whom I adore. During "Back In Baby's Arms," my childhood favorite, Patsy's voice lilts "don't know why we quarreled, we never did before."
I have two notebooks, one is my journal/diary, the other is a notebook solely for lists. I have a favorite word list, and quarrel is going on there immediately. Why did quarrel get elbowed out of the English language by words like "baller," "bling bling," and "Facebook friend (the verb)?" OMG! He defriended me on Facebook!
Poor quarrel is there sulking in the dusty and cobwebbed corners, rarely used, rarely heard, mostly forgotten. I feel bad for it, and I think it should return from its tragically long exile. Couples that quarrel are probably much happier fundamentally than those that fight. I want to have rows, not blow-ups. I want to quarrel.
When I imagine a night of quarreling I see a quiet night alone with my man; we pick a fight about something silly, something domestic. It gets a little out of control and after a while I look up at him and say sweetly and softly, "I'm sorry, I don't want to quarrel anymore." Afterwords, we dance slowly to the jukebox, maybe to Patsy herself, he in his cardigan sweater and button-up, and me in my apron and starched dress. His cigar smolders, abandoned.