"Marriage is neither Heaven nor Hell, it is just Purgatory."
- Abraham Lincoln

"Love makes fools of us all."
- Shakespeare

"Love is friendship set on fire."
- Jeremy Taylor

"Marriage is for women the commonest mode of livelihood, and the total amount of undesired sex endured by women is probably greater in marriage than in prostitution."
- Bertrand Russell (1872–1970), British philosopher, mathematician

"Marriage isn't a word-it's a sentence."
- Caption from King Vidor’s silent film. The Crowd (1926).

March 14th, 2002

I wish to put a stop to this crap once and for all.

I was in the Yahoo Books & Literature Chat Room (2) a couple of days ago, as is my habit when things are slow at work or I have to get my mind off a particularly grating assignment when saw one of the chatters trying to make a statement on "true love".

Ugh.

Blecccch! Wretch! Spew! Hrwarrpfhh! BLAARRRRFFF! Ptui! and PHOOEY!!

Sorry, I had to get that out of my system before continuing. Ahhhhh! Much better now.

So, anyway, this poor deluded soul was trying to make the point of self sacrificing, love to end all loves, perfect, be all, end all, deny your mate nothing, make other people sick watching you and your mate, meaning of existence, love.... for a relationship and marriage. This chatter truly believed that if you can't sacrifice everything and do everything you can to make your mate happy, then you don't really love them.

Um..... no. That's not how it works. Not for the long haul anyway.

Although, I am sure that it does exist. I am also sure that it rare. Really rare. Like Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot rare.

But, there are such cases. The specific case, I am reminded of is the relationship that Charles Boyer, French movie star lover of the silver screen, had with his wife, British Fox starlet, Pat Paterson. Their marriage lasted 44 years until her death of cancer, August 23rd, 1978.

On August 25th, 1978, two days before his 79th birthday, Charles Boyer, put his affairs in order, took an overdose of barbiturates, and died.

Ahhh, the French. I can truly appreciate the spirit of the gesture. Not wanting to go on without the person that you woke up with for 44 years. The woman that brought into the world their only son and then buried him 21 years later. They had been through a lot together and had built their relationship, based on trust and fidelity. They both shared the same interests and lived a nice quiet life. I'm sure that after 44 years that the depression would've been overwhelming. I would've had a hard time, too, if my Sherry had passed on after that amount of time.

But, I tell you this, I am certain (as sure as I am typing this) that there was the occasional knock down, drag out, argument in the Boyer household. It HAD to happen. It just had to. You cannot live with a person for 44 years without having an argument or without ruffling the other's feathers. That's just impossible. I am certain as well that there were just some things that Charles would NOT do for his wife, at least not without grumbling about it. I'm also sure that there had to have been a time when he just woke up one morning and said "I'm just gonna start some trouble today." Or she said, "Let's see what I can do to piss him off." This was a monogamous relationship. You just can't have one of those without a little bit of mischief*.

It's just the way things are between men and women. It's hardwired into us. We can't help it.

Where I notice the most amount of naive romanticism is among the single youth. They are mostly women but you do get the occasional man in the mix. With women, it starts with the Romance novels with Favio on the cover wearing the pirate eyepatch holding some almost bare breasted young woman just waiting to be taken. The wind is blowing through their hair and there will be rivoltry afoot. Phrases like "he unsheathed his manhood", "deflowered", and "she awaited him wantingly" are spouted about without care. And you know that before the end of the novel someone's gettin "boinked".

Young women eat this crap up and swallow it whole. They fantasize that the muscular long haired pirate will claim them as their booty. Avast ye matie, and lower the boom, while shifting the handspike! AR! AR! AR! AR!

And therein lies the problem. It's not reality. Women are eating this slop and are expecting Joe Average to come and violate them while, of course, being perfect gentlemen and then living happily ever after in ever lasting fidelity.

Excuse me..... BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! BOOWAHHAHAHAHHAA!

In this day of sexual harassment, date rape, law suits, jail time, bad touch, good touch, rules of engagement, S&M, stalkers, web stalkers, and Mormons, how can this possibly exist? Yet, the fantasy of "the rogue" is still perpetuated.

"Oh, treat me like a woman," they say. "Ravage me!" they say.

I'd like to talk to women as a whole on this next point.

MAKE UP YOUR F%@$KING MINDS!!!!!!

If you want us to be pigs - no problem! Sometimes, all we have to do is wake up! Let us shave, gather our clubs, clean the cave, paint the wall, grunt, scratch ourselves, delouse, belch and drink beer. We will be every bit the caveman you'd expect. The only thing that is standing in our way from being the pirate you want is just THE LAW.

We just legally can't be that way.

The rules of engagement are defined by women. Men really will never know where the line is until they've crossed it. And once they have, they are screwed. They have everything to risk in one night of careless passion, throw caution to the wind, world of casual sex.** Men take this stigmata for life. If they should get arrested for rape, they will go to jail and do time. But it doesn't end there. When they get out, they have to contend with Meagan's Law. That means, essentially, they can't start anew. All because they may or may not have been careless and a woman (dare I even say a consenting woman) who declares a rape after the fact can ruin a man's life.

How romantic.

But let me step back for a second and not talk of brute, violent, male behavior and go to the other extreme.

Let's talk about the good man. The cautious man. The BORING man. You know who I'm talking about. The quiet guy, who studies hard, works hard, makes his money, knows his business, and goes to work from 9 to 5. Yeah, him. How often do you hear ladies say, "Look at the stability of that guy!" Or "Boneventure! How could you have known? That's my faaaavorite car!" Or "Who cares about your hairline? At least you have poor muscletone." Or "Is that whole milk you're drinking, you must have strong bones!" Or "See him? He's a reader!" And my favorite, "Comicbooks!!! You too?!!!"

What a shame that a man's sexual peak is at 17 and a woman peak's at 40. Couldn't God have designed this any better? How many 17 year old boys do you see boinking 40 year old women? It's just not in our wiring. That is, at least, not in America. I'm sure that there is an island off the coast of Sumatra that the 17 year old boys are part of a stable of a 40 year old queen and she's pumping out the kids like puppies.

But I digress.

Good boys and men just don't get the girls. It's just a rare thing. Men can't make the first move anymore or harassment could be intoned. And guys, let's also remember the humiliation of gathering the guts to ask the really cute girl to the dance and getting shot out of the saddle. 17 is a rough age to have acne.*** This situation was not unique among the members of the Chess club and the Debating team. I'm certain that the football players with the mustangs really can't comprehend what the little guys were going through back then.****

All these little guys wanted was what we all want at that age - to be liked. Every rejection they got was a reaffirmation of "No", "Sorry", "You are not good enough for me." Things change and people change too. Many times for the better.

But let's get back to the concept of Romance.

I was lucky. I married a beautiful woman who loves me. Is this the "be all end all" love of the poets? I don't think so. Is it the "I'll walk the dog for you if you're sick" kind of love. Yeah, that's closer to the mark. In actuality, the sacrifices that we make in our relationships are the willingness to make them but (and I say BUT) on the reciprocation side of this, you should never be asked to make them.

I get so pissed off when I hear "Well, he just doesn't love you because if he did, he would have spent his last dollar for that dress." Or "If he really loved you, he wouldn't have gone golfing with his buddies and stayed home with you to watch the Olympic figure skating event."£ Yak, yak, yak, yak, yak.

Couldn't you just strangle these people?

That's not real love. Real love is what my wife did for me when we were dating. My father was in a serious car accident while on vacation in Florida. My wife to be and I were dating for about two months when she dropped everything to accompany me to visit my father and mother in Miami General Hospital. It was not a pleasure trip. I didn't ask her to come. She just thought it best that she come with me. We would be in the hospital most of the day and then go to the hotel at night. I never forgot it and from that moment on, I knew that I'd wind up marrying her.££

Real love is when you don't have to be asked. When you get something that's our of the goodness of his or her heart even when your spouse would rather be doing other things. Real love is when she can't stand your friends but invites them over anyway. Real love is when you start reading something that she likes just to see what all of the fuss is about. Real love is being part of their lives and them being part of yours. Real love is not only love, but also, trust and respect.

And that's what these nimnulls will never understand and will never see it when it drops right in their laps.

* - I'm not talking about an extramarital affair. I'm talking about just being a bit of a jerk for the sake of being a jerk.

** - Just so you know, I am not endorsing rape or the concept of reckless abandonment. I have always been this way. I don't believe and have never believed in the concept of doing something REALLY STUPID. My attitude has been (even while I am married), if I hear anything wrong, I'll stop.

*** - Yes, I had horrible boil-like acne when I was a teenager. It eventually went away thanks to Acutane, a very experimental drug at the time, that caused me no end of nosebleeds and embarrassment in high school. I blossomed late in life, like, college. Think I have issues?

**** - I hope you are all digging ditches now.

£ - Don't laugh. It has happened to others I know.

££ - This was in January as well, not typical tourist season.