Saturday, June 01, 2013

A More Perfect Union

It's probably not a coincidence that I am reading a book about alternate time streams, or that the movie I went to with my wife last weekend ponders some of the same questions. Turning fifty has allowed me plenty of time to reflect on the "what-ifs" in my life. These days, I'm hearing as much about the lives of my friends' children as I am about their lives. As people begin to settle down and settle in, I am reminded that I am about to celebrate two thirds of my life as part of a happily married couple.
I also mourn for those pairings that didn't quite pan out. My wife has suggested that those of us who attend a wedding owe the bride and groom some measure of allegiance. If you're standing there in the chapel or under the chuppah or out in the meadow as you watch two lives joined together, maybe we should offer up some kind of commitment to that pairing as insurance against the storms and struggles that will, almost certainly, beset these intrepid lovers as they meander down life's highway.
All that said, I'm still happy to see anybody else take the plunge. I don't marvel in it the same way my wife, who cries at every wedding she sees on a sit-com, does. I am happily surprised by any and all efforts on the part of single human beings to become more than that. Coupling suggests that all that hooey about love just may turn out to be real, after all. Scientists may want to tell us that it's really about pheromones. Accountants may encourage it as a hedge against the Taxman. Your parents may want you to put a happy ending on the story of their lives. But there really is something magical about when things all come together and two individuals decide to form a consolidated household.
Standing outside of my friend's apartment in Manhattan, years ago, I was surprised to see Martin Scorcese's mother come out of the same building. My friend's father, who may or may not have recognized her as I did from her numerous cameos in her son's films, announced to her and anyone else who would listen: "Hey, my son's getting married today!"
Ms. Scorcese turned to us and said, "Some marriages work. Some don't," and then she dropped herself into the back seat of a waiting town car which sped off into the morning traffic.
Over the years I have thought about those odds. I'm not a big risk-taker, but this is the gamble I'm willing to take.

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