What's that smell in this room? Didn't you notice it? Didn't you notice the powerful and obnoxious odor of mendacity in this room? There ain't nothin' more powerful than the odor of mendacity. You can smell it.
Yes Big Daddy, it smells like death.
Neurosis reinforcement. Santa is Burl Ives. I watch Rudolph and The Island of Misfit Toys every year. They put the dirt on Rudolph's nose and it comes off. They laugh and he goes away. No reindeer games.
(don't look at me, I'm not crying) Well anyway, for some reason when I was little, I always thought of Santa when listening to "Little White Duck." Just last year, I found out Burl Ives sang it. Funny huh? Oh just say yes.
New subject! Back in '99 my friend was divorced for the second time. She'd never been alone and was scared. I said the independence would be good: learn, live, just do it, at least for a little while. She said she married, both times, someone she wasn't compatible with so she didn't have to be alone to do it all ... settled.
She is very, let's say rigid. Scheduled maybe. She has a time and place for everything and it must stay that way. Any variance upsets her. Both times she married guys who weren't rigid. They weren't slobs, not at all. They just didn't have the same definition of proper and exact. When I say scheduled I mean scheduled. Let's take bedtime for instance. It's 10p, no later. Anything that upsets this time, upsets everything. Chior practice is every Monday night. Every! Don't make a plan with her on this night ever, otherwise suffer the wrath.
She is very intellegent with no time for anything less. She has always complimented me on my patience and says I should have been a teacher. I really don't think so but I always say, "If you want someone to learn or understand, you have to teach them, nicely & tactfully." She agrees but remarks that I have patience and tact, she does not. And in the latter, she is absolutely right.
So soon after her divorce she announced getting remarried. They'd been dating a little while and I knew he didn't at all ascribe to her philosophies. I could only cringe inside and wish them luck. I knew they'd need it.
Fast forward. She still has no interest in what he enjoys, nor does she plan to gain any. It's not that she knows or cares anything about his interests, she just has her own and that's enough for her. He's a wonderful man but now he is ridiculed or talked down to for what he likes. It's not that I think she needs to be involved in everything he does, but jeesh, just hush up. This is the man you married. Let him be happy working in the garage or on the house or whatever. He can build or fix anything. Send him to my house or something.
He stays up later by an hour or so. His coming to bed "disturbs" her. They now have separate bedrooms. Last year she asked, "Remember you said you hoped your future husband never wanted his own recliner?" I said, "Yeah, unless it seats two." She laughed and said, "We now have our own bedrooms." And how is this funny, I thought. They both seem fine with it. And this I do not understand and I hope I never do.
They share little time together. They never know or care what the other is doing. They lie to each other. Not lie, but omission. Truth results in eye-rolling or ridicule. How long can a marriage like this last? Why even want it to?
Then I wonder, maybe it's me? Nah, can't be. Unthinkable. Then I wonder, do they even make recliners that seat two? My knowing this has yet to become necessary. Not that I'd allow it, because I am just that intimidating.
Yes Big Daddy, it smells like death.
Neurosis reinforcement. Santa is Burl Ives. I watch Rudolph and The Island of Misfit Toys every year. They put the dirt on Rudolph's nose and it comes off. They laugh and he goes away. No reindeer games.
(don't look at me, I'm not crying) Well anyway, for some reason when I was little, I always thought of Santa when listening to "Little White Duck." Just last year, I found out Burl Ives sang it. Funny huh? Oh just say yes.
New subject! Back in '99 my friend was divorced for the second time. She'd never been alone and was scared. I said the independence would be good: learn, live, just do it, at least for a little while. She said she married, both times, someone she wasn't compatible with so she didn't have to be alone to do it all ... settled.
She is very, let's say rigid. Scheduled maybe. She has a time and place for everything and it must stay that way. Any variance upsets her. Both times she married guys who weren't rigid. They weren't slobs, not at all. They just didn't have the same definition of proper and exact. When I say scheduled I mean scheduled. Let's take bedtime for instance. It's 10p, no later. Anything that upsets this time, upsets everything. Chior practice is every Monday night. Every! Don't make a plan with her on this night ever, otherwise suffer the wrath.
She is very intellegent with no time for anything less. She has always complimented me on my patience and says I should have been a teacher. I really don't think so but I always say, "If you want someone to learn or understand, you have to teach them, nicely & tactfully." She agrees but remarks that I have patience and tact, she does not. And in the latter, she is absolutely right.
So soon after her divorce she announced getting remarried. They'd been dating a little while and I knew he didn't at all ascribe to her philosophies. I could only cringe inside and wish them luck. I knew they'd need it.
Fast forward. She still has no interest in what he enjoys, nor does she plan to gain any. It's not that she knows or cares anything about his interests, she just has her own and that's enough for her. He's a wonderful man but now he is ridiculed or talked down to for what he likes. It's not that I think she needs to be involved in everything he does, but jeesh, just hush up. This is the man you married. Let him be happy working in the garage or on the house or whatever. He can build or fix anything. Send him to my house or something.
He stays up later by an hour or so. His coming to bed "disturbs" her. They now have separate bedrooms. Last year she asked, "Remember you said you hoped your future husband never wanted his own recliner?" I said, "Yeah, unless it seats two." She laughed and said, "We now have our own bedrooms." And how is this funny, I thought. They both seem fine with it. And this I do not understand and I hope I never do.
They share little time together. They never know or care what the other is doing. They lie to each other. Not lie, but omission. Truth results in eye-rolling or ridicule. How long can a marriage like this last? Why even want it to?
Then I wonder, maybe it's me? Nah, can't be. Unthinkable. Then I wonder, do they even make recliners that seat two? My knowing this has yet to become necessary. Not that I'd allow it, because I am just that intimidating.
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I'm hungry. Not that you needed to know that.