Find of the Day

Here's a funny poem that my Amazing Bob wrote plus a rumination on love, on why our relationship worked (I HATE the past tense!).

Those Terrible Things
             sung to the tune of My Favorite Things by Rodgers and Hammerstein
Green shoes and red coats and bags with cheap presents
TV commercials with bad British accents
Seasonal music with saccharine strings
All of us sneer at these terrible things

Clap on clap off and crap made in China
Chia pets, magic sets, dolls with vaginas
Gold-plated jewelry they market as “bling”
All of us sneer at these terrible things

Teenagers shopping with rings in their noses
Middle-aged people in lamely hip poses
CDs by pop stars who can’t even sing
All of us sneer at these terrible things

When the mail comes
When the phone rings
And I’m going mad
I work at forgetting these terrible things
And then I don’t feel so bad.
~~~

Carl Reiner has been married for 61 years. Here’s what he says about choosing your mate:
Pick someone who can stand you. He says that you can be in lust with almost anyone, that love is more difficult, that like is sometimes tough, but if you pick someone who can stand you, you’ll do well. He went on to say that if you choose someone who just hates the music you listen to or can’t stand the way you use a toothpick in public, you’re in big trouble. And it helps if you choose someone you can stand.

I remember a line in a book by Donald Barthelme in which he’s talking about love and he says something like: That’s the way it is behind the veil of flummery which surrounds relationships. You put up with her shit and she puts up with yours. That’s the deal.

OK, so that’s not very romantic or flowery but I personally think stuff like that is why our relationship works so well for both of us. Yes, we love each other but, beyond that, we can stand each other. Do you think that makes sense?

~~~
Yes. Yes, I do very much think that makes sense.

TAB wrote this in October of 2004 when I was in the thick of stereotactic fractionated radiation action. He wrote to me near daily while I slept and slept and then, between retching and rounds of dry heaves, napped.

We weren’t the hearts and flowers type but we were truly, madly, deeply in love AND we could stand each other. He took brill care of me when I was in my always illin’ 40s and I took care of him in his annually illin’ 60s and 70s.

We took turns being sick – we were all considerate and shit like that.

You know you’re solid partners for life when you can get through all the smelly, messy, sometimes projectile bodily excretions and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to and still be crazy about each other.