Sunday, August 07, 2005


Shrevie: Ok, now ask me what's on the flip side.
Beth: Why?
Shrevie: Just, just ask me what's on the flip side, OK?
Beth: What is on the flip side?
Shrevie: Hey, Hey, Hey, 1958. Specialty Records. [Beth nods blankly]
Shrevie: See? You don't ask me things like that, do you? No! You never ask me what's on the flip side.
Beth: No! Because I don't give a shit. Shrevie, who cares about what's on the flip side about the record?
Shrevie: I do! Every one of my records means something! The label, the producer, the year it was made. Who was copying whose style... who's expanding on that, don't you understand? When I listen to my records they take me back to certain points in my life, OK? Just don't touch my records, ever! You! The first time I met you? Modell's sister's high school graduation party, right? 1955. And Ain't That A Shame was playing when I walked into the door!

That scene in "Diner" kind of sums up my periodic angst about being married. Why don't we care about the same things? Why doesn't it get easier? Well, the truth is, it does. It just takes time. And patience. What does it mean to get up every morning for twelve years with the same person? Well, if you're not a teenager sharing your room with anolder brother, then maybe it feels something like marriage. There is a certainty to it that I enjoy immensely. I do a little dance each anniversary that I like to call my "Thank God I Never Have To Date Again Dance."
I know more now about who I am than when I started this relationship. A lot of things that I believed to be certain truths turned out to be a lot of hooey. To her credit, my wife has had the same challenging learning curve. We're trying to do all of this as we glide through our own discovery of just what we want to be when we grow up.
Of course, this path is frought with peril. There is money and childrearing and chores and the ever-present spectre of failure. That fifty percent divorce rate does a lot to keep my brain attached to my mouth. I have learned to be more careful with what I say and how I say it. Do I still need practice? You bet I do - but the real amazing thing about this is that I am being allowed to get it right over time. Perfection is still quite a ways off, but I'm waddling there as fast as I can.


haywagon said...

"You're not perfect sport, and let me save you the suspense, this girl you've met she's not perfect either. But the question is whether or not you're perfect for each other."

Anonymous said...

Love is blind. Marriage is an institution, an institution for the blind.

Love, Ervin