The Lens:
I feel the need for some levity these days. While things are improving, I still find the pure levity I used to enjoy elusive. So, I did a bit more reading of my past writings when my sense of humor provided the basis for my outlook.
Let’s start with the lens . . .
I have mentioned my guilty pleasure of reading advice columns in my “The Dear Abby Test” post. Two recent letters in Annie Lane’s column spark this latest post.
In the first letter, the writer complains that her husband can’t sing. Unfortunately, he really likes to sing. She has tried the subtle approach to express her dislike of the irritatingly poor performances to no avail. She asks for help in getting him to stop.
Annie isn’t very sympathetic. She notes the health benefits of singing. Her only recognition of the irritant comes in saying that, because of COVID, we find ourselves spending too much together time, and are discovering new “pet peeves.”
She advises to let him keep singing and reaping its health benefits. She then adds, “But try to gently steer your attention back to the bigger picture. Life is short. Love is long.”
She had me reluctantly following along here. I have a similar problem. My husband can drive me nuts playing his guitar. It is pretty difficult to get away from it in our little house, especially when the amp comes out. Even at a low volume, it permeates the walls and floors.
Now, to be clear, he is not a bad player. He is quite good. I don’t know why it bothers me, but it does. I am quite sensitive to noise and light and just about everything. Maybe that is the reason.
But, does there have to be a reason? We can’t help what bothers us.
As I said, I was reluctantly following along when Annie added, “And there may come a day when you’d give anything to hear that off-key voice from the next room.”
Ack!!! Nails on a chalkboard! I see this nonsense (I am being as kind as I can here) in advice columns way too much.
It usually follows the sequence of: First, someone writes in a similar letter to the one described. Then, someone else writes in to say that the original letter writer should count their lucky stars to have that annoyance. They explain that they just lost their beloved spouse and would give anything to have that person back irritating the crap out of them.
Ok. So, the letter doesn’t quite go like that. And, I get it that these people are in the throes of grief. And, maybe at that moment, they would give anything to have that person back, even if it meant being annoyed as hell with them.
Have you been to a funeral where, all of a sudden, the deceased was the perfect person? I remember a music awards show where the estranged wife accepted an award for her estranged husband who had just recently died from alcoholism. In her acceptance for him, she tearfully says something like, “He was the best husband.”
Maybe she was trying to pay him homage. But, I can’t think a man you are estranged from, for whatever reason, was the best husband. When faced with such a permanent loss, I can see where your thoughts might go directly to what you will miss and forget what you won’t.
I have been married quite a while. I have not experienced losing a spouse. So, maybe, in the event my husband goes before me, this will all make sense. But, I tend to think not.
I agree that we need to be tolerant of our mate’s annoyances. Afterall, we surely have some of our own. But, to say we just need to grin and bear every annoyance ignores that we are human and have limits to patience and tolerance. It also ignores the need for compromise and consideration for a successful marriage.
I pointed out in “The Dear Abby Test” one (somewhat drastic) solution to a maddening problem. Most of our “annoyances” are much smaller and either require more simple solutions or tolerance.
I do my best to tolerate the guitar playing by closing doors and putting on some quiet music. After some time, I will ask him to wrap it up, which he usually does. It is both tolerance and compromise. I tolerate the playing for a reasonable amount of time. He compromises by stopping even if wants to play longer.
The Refraction:
We are getting closer to my past writing.
First, regarding marriage in general, there are all sorts of reasons why people marry. I believe in love. I view it as the foundation on which marriage should be built. Yet, I know plenty of people marry primarily for other reasons. In those cases, as long as both parties are on the same page and neither is in a position of power over the other, who am I to judge?
If you have been married for a while, chances are your initial infatuation love has given way to a more familiar day-to-day love, the kind of love that has to deal with the ups and downs of life, the idiosyncrasies of our mates, etc.
I am a practical person. After years of marriage, practicality has entered the picture. Here is my writing:
There is a practicality to being married 25+ years. Many years ago while working toward a college degree that would elude me for another 20 years, I took an English course in which I had to read a Joan Didion (I believe) story. It was a bleak account of marriage. I don’t remember anything from the story except the end in which the focal woman “resigns herself” to her loveless marriage. At the time, I was engaged to be married. Being on the brink of taking the plunge, I wondered in my critique what experiences would the author have had that would instill such a dim view of marriage.
In my idealism, I missed the point it was just fiction. But, after 25+ years of marriage, I know of “resigning” oneself in marriage. I’m not talking about settling for an affectionless marriage. I am talking about accepting you are living with another human being you cannot control.
Several years ago, my husband bought a motorcycle against my wishes. He had a motorcycle when we met – it was great for commuting. He sold it, though, once the kids were born. Our lifestyle had changed considerably and there was just no need for it anymore.
Fast forward many years and my husband’s desire to replace the bike was feverish. A couple of his friends had bought bikes of their own and were strongly encouraging my husband to do the same – they could go off on “bike trips” together.
I knew I was facing a losing battle in objecting to the purchase. Not for the reasons one might think. We never have any money . . . until there is something my husband wants – a new guitar, another amp, a motorcycle.
To my extreme displeasure, he bought the bike over my protests. Notice I said “to my extreme displeasure” not “to my surprise.” We can both dig our heels in. (My husband has said to me on more than one occasion, “You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.” This is never said in a complimentary manner.)
A couple of days ago, we made an overnight trip to Tahoe to meet with a real estate agent about possibly purchasing a piece of property. As the three of us are driving about making idle conversation, the “bike” came up. The envious agent says, “I’d love to get one by my wife wouldn’t let me.”
I hear this all the time – all the guys who would love to have a bike but their wives would object. First, let me say, this agent is where we were 15 years ago with a little child. I may have felt differently if my husband wanted to purchase a bike when we had 2 small children to care for. But, we are not there anymore. Our children are grown and it is just the two of us.
Second, this purchase did not go without condition. Here is where the “practicality” of marriage comes in. If you can’t beat ‘em . . .
I said to the agent, just as I said to every other drooling guy who expressed the same sentiment, “I told him to make sure the life insurance is paid, and, if he wrecks the thing, go all the way.”
Lest you think I am horribly callous, before a recent “bike trip,” the guys met at our house. I was talking to one of them who, as usual, was giving me a hard time about the bike. I gave him my little speech to which he replied his wife has said the same thing. Her words were, “Don’t come back a vegetable.” Smart woman. This is not about love. It is simple practicality.
That is where my story ended. But, that damn motorcycle is still sitting in our garage. If there was a way for him to take that thing with him when he goes, I would be thrilled.
The idea that I have to tolerate all of my husband’s annoyances because someday he may no longer be here is absurd. First, I could die first and I would have spent almost the entirety of my adult life being annoyed as hell.
Second, at this point, should he go before me, chances are I will spend considerably less years without him than I have with him. So, I would still be spending the majority of my adult life horribly irritated.
Wouldn’t it be better for both of us to work together to irritate each other less? We don’t need to love everything about our significant others. That doesn’t make us bad. It just makes us human.