Thursday, February 24, 2005

Focusing on the Important Things

Lots happening around this globe right now, unless you live south of Okeechobee. All day long the news cycles down here have been pumping out one main story—Shaquille O’Neil was injured in last night’s game!!!
Let’s see…war is still in progress, democracy is creeping across the Mid East, President is touring Europe, tsunami relief in progress—nope, Shaq twisted his ankle. Good thing I don’t watch basketball. At least that pushed Paris Hilton’s phone book off the charts.


On Being Held AS the Higher Example

This past weekend we went to the annual RenFair--which always strikes me as being similar to regular fairs except that the carnies have all their teeth and can read. The kids enjoy the games & rides and the parents enjoy the bawdy atmosphere. TOW and myself also appreciate the preponderance of corsets, although it is a double-edged blessing. Just as many women should be banned from wearing them as look good in the trusses.

When we announced that we were going our good friend S mentioned he wanted to go with us as his wife, and TOW’s friend, M, was working all weekend long. He and The Odd One both knew that doing so was going to lead to tension for both of them. One of the problems involved M not wanting S to go this week, wishing instead that they could go as a family this coming weekend. She didn’t say that, of course. She said it was no problem for them to go with us, and then hoped S would suggest they go the next week. This is where my head shaking begins.

Monday at work my wife and her friend talked, and as we rode home that night she says to me, “Are you ready to be creeped out?” During a lengthy bout S tells his wife she should be more like TOW, and M retorts that he should be more like yours-truly. As flattering as it is to be held up as archetypes I said it would do the two of them better to try being themselves. TOW then theorized what it might be like if we replicated one of those Swapping Spouses-type shows. He would certainly lose his teeth from clenching them over battling with her. I in turn would drive her batty within 2 days with my numerous idiosyncrasies. Stop talking to the television, I’m trying to watch this—and NO, we are not making fun of “Catwoman” again!!

I have heard their problems for some time now and the amazing thing is that it sounds so easy for them to fix things if they both put forth a small amount of effort. He wants her to be more passionate, she wants him to act more caring, and they both have said they’d do what the other wants if the other would only do what they ask. Yet they cannot get things working right. They can tell us all the things that are wrong, but get them together and they say completely different things.

I have always said communication is the lynchpin to a good relationship. Hell, if our two friends even tried communicating for any length of time they would make progress. Now though I’m starting to amend that thought. Connecting may be even more important. My wife and I—we connect, more so than I ever had with a person. We get each other, and I love the fact that the small things between are as significant as the big ones.

Driving to work one morning I am still in the shallow end of my coffee when the urge comes about to call the local radio show. Phone in hand she asks me for the number and after I spout it she looks down and says, “No, that’s wrong.” I recite it again, and again she tells me, “Nope, not right.” We do this 3 more times, my voice raising each time like I’m trying to talk to a foreigner, before she finally shouts back, “You’re not giving me enough numbers!” I count on my fingers and find my mistake, she strikes me because we missed the chance to win something.
I now shout, “We will never win The Amazing Race if you can’t decipher what I’m telling you!” She picks up on my reference to Jonathon, the misogynistic entrepreneur from said program.
“Like I’d go on that show with a caffeine retard!” she shouts back.
Laughter ensued.

For me that’s not communication, that’s connection, and it is why I love her like I do.

Posted by Anonymous :: 6:29 PM :: | ---------------------------------------