Category: Dad

This whole marriage "thing"

So the point of last week’s road trip was not only visiting with family, but also a fun engagement party, the subject of marriage has been the hot conversation topic.

Since becoming engaged, I’ve been talking to a lot of friends and family who have been married for a while to get their thoughts. Everyone has an idea on what it takes to “make it work”.

Obviously, I’m very conscious about being a good partner, friend and spouse, so I’ve been listening.

Here’s some of the thoughts I’ve gathered so far.

From Grandmother of The Good Man, her advice to me was to “have a room of your own in the house…because you’ll want your alone time”. I replied, “yes, that’s seems true…” She leaned forward and fixed her eyes steadily on me. “No, I’m serious. You are going to want your own space!”

Point well taken, ma’am.

From my Aunt in Arizona, her advice was to work to keep things from being boring. Can’t disagree with that one, seems easy to slip into. I have a couple friends who got married and slid right into the sweatpants and television mode. I suppose if it works for the couple, that’s ok. But I think my Aunt has good advice.

From my own mom, she told TGM about the rather expensive toaster her own mom gave her for her wedding present. My dad, the ever tinkering electrical engineer, kept that thing toasting for the better part of forty years. Mom said that even when the toaster died, she kept it polished up and on a shelf. She said, “I figured that if we had that toaster, we had a marriage.”

So maybe not the toaster itself, but a talisman, a symbol, a “something to hang on to” when the seas get rough is important.

I like it.

A friend at work who despite being about my age, has been married over twenty years (very YOUNG bride…wow!) says that for her, she laid down the law early on. For example, they have two beautiful children. She’s made it clear that if they part ways, the kids are hers, no dispute.

This was along the same lines as the advice from the dad of my best friend…

He also said that both sides should set down the rules early on.

It all seems a bit rigid to me, but maybe it’s not the “rules” so much as “these are the lines that cannot be crossed”.

Mom of my best friend, upon hearing this advice about the rules said, “yes, that’s true, I told him if he cheats on me I’m going to jail because I’m taking him out”

Wow. But hey, there’s no gray area there, now is there?

I do think it’s good to communicate “these are my non-starters” from the beginning. TGM and I have done some of that already…entering into this relationship later in life, we both had some previous experiences…so there were a couple “if you are going to xyz then I’m out” moments.

Other things heard are:

“Keep your own interests, don’t make your spouse the only thing in your life”…ok, good.

“Communicate, communicate, communicate”…also good and one already well used. In fact, I know I’m guilty of sometimes OVER communicating…but I do have to say, if TGM and I find a disagreement, it’s over pretty quick because we’re good at talking and being honest about what’s going on. (again, that “late in life” thing helps)

“Keep laughing.” Ah yes.

All good things to ponder.

Anyone else got thoughts? If you don’t want to put in comments, shoot me an email. I’m all ears.

Utter distruction.

I have this fabulous little SmartDisk drive that I adore.

It has this great form factor that rocks. It’s one inch by one inch square with a little flip out arm for the USB connector.

It is twelve nice-and-roomy GB’s. I admit when I bought it, I thought 12GB was an odd size, but whatever.

Been carrying this around in my backpack for about a year now. It has all of my blog post drafts, lots of photos, a couple videos, much of my writing and various other things. I just dig this little guy.

It’s what I use at work so no personal stuff ends up on the work machine. All safely put away on a jump drive. And I can take work files home on it and not have to carry my entire laptop.

About a month ago, my Little Drive turned up missing. I was distraught. I had gone sailing out of the office late for the shuttle bus and was just sure it had fallen out of my handbag as I ran.

I was heartsick. I had made that major IT error. I had failed to back it up. It had several original files on there, including the beginnings of a new novel. I was 6,000 words into it, and sure, I could recreate, but who wants to!?

Highly depressed, I went back to the online store where Little Drive was procured only to discover they no longer make the 12GB version. The best I could do was an 8GB, so I bought one.

I was too depressed to even fire up this new drive. Unsure what to do, I soldiered on. Until I got a call from security at work . Seems they found Little Drive on the shuttle bus. I almost wept with joy. I ran over the security department and retrieved my creative soul. I immediately brought it back to my desk and backed it up to my Big Daddy firewire drive.

Whew.

So, reunited, we began again, writing together, saving interesting tidbits. A letter to the editor. A draft of an entry to a local poetry contest. Yes! We were happy again, side by side.

Then there was yesterday…

For the past several days I’d had that odd back of my mind feeling that I needed to backup Little Drive. Paranoia, I think, after being parted. But when I got to work, I got out Big Daddy drive and backed Little Drive up.

Then I plugged Little Drive in and started working on some stuff.

Later, I had to attend a “lunch and learn” meeting that I’d rather have poked my eyes out than sit through…

So I decided to take my MacBook and “appear” to be working while really working on my own stuff. I had Little Drive attached to the MacBook. In a rush to get to the meeting, I hurriedly picked up my MacBook and whacked Little Drive on the underside of the shelf right above the laptop stand.

Broke the USB connector, yes I did. Well, it was connected…but hanging there by its blue and red and green and yellow wires…

I was able to gingerly plug it back in and it mounted. Yes! I pulled off the files I’d worked on that day (that didn’t make the morning backup) then I ejected the drive.

I peered into the little arm and thought “well, it’s connected, I’ll just push this back in and it will work fine.”

I’ll spare the suspense. I did and it didn’t. Meaning I fixed it but it no longer worked.

So I yanked the USB connecter back out. My “fix” had snapped off all the wires.

Damn.

I pried open the cracked plastic a bit and took a look. It didn’t look good. But I thought maybe I could take it home and fiddle with it. Ok, to be fair, since I’d backed it up, there was no need to resuscitate this drive…I’m just…emotionally attached to it.

Owing to being “raised by engineers” (an honor bestowed on me by the engineering team of which I was a part of…as their financial analyst…right out of college) I figured I could figure this out.

I mean, my dad could make a toaster last for thirty years, I could fix a damn USB connector!

The Good Man suggested that even if I fixed it, odds of “data loss” were high with my kludgy fix.

Well, he needn’t have worried.

In one of those bits made for sitcoms, the more I tried to fix it, the more I broke it. I kept trying to pull the wires out a bit more. Trying to take the shielding off so I could get more space. All I did was fray the wires to unrecognizablility.

Then I thought maybe I could pop out the 12 GB drive and put it in the 8GB case! The one with the working USB connector!

After busting it wide open, I discovered that, yeah, those wires were attached to the drive in such a way as to not be easily removed.

Basically, I pulled a big ol’ Bull in a China shop on this poor little drive. It’s now in many, many pieces on my desk at home.

*sigh* Gonna miss you, old friend…

So the new 8GB has gotten the call to the bullpen. You’re up, fella. Let’s see what you got.

Patience

I don’t have it.

Despite it’s virtuous qualities.

Was talking with a friend at work today (she’s my lunch buddy). We were lamenting a current frustrating situation involving both of us.

She said, “I know the universe must be testing my patience, this just has to be a lesson.”

I said, “Well, I must be having to learn this lesson just by being in proximity to you. I’m *sure* I’m good on the patience.”

To which we both burst out laughing.

I have to wonder how I got so damn impatient with the world.

Then I remember my hop-from-foot-to-foot-like-a-flea father and wonder how I ever could have ended up a patient person. He was a good man, but patience wasn’t his virtue either.

Ah well. I yam what I yam.

Memories

I am quite thoughtful today. It is an anniversary of sorts, but not the happy kind.

It was three years ago today that my dad passed away in Albuquerque. In some ways it was like yesterday, how fresh the hurt is. But in other ways it seems like a million years ago.

It wasn’t a surprise when he died. It was expected. He’d been sick and we knew it was inevitable. It was, actually, in many ways a relief when it did finally occur.

Losing a parent is, in my opinion, among the hardest things an adult must deal with.

I didn’t have much of a relationship with my dad, but he was my dad, after all. He was cranky, cantankerous, Type A, driven, rigid, incredibly intelligent, hardworking, a loyal friend to his friends, never lazy, handy, proud, insecure, funny, a thinker, and unstoppable.

In other words, an imperfect human.

For me, the things that needed to be said were said before he moved on. I don’t have any open issues there, and I count myself lucky in that regard.

So today, I feel a bit of sadness, a bit of thoughtfulness, and the drive to keep moving ever forward.

"Let me tell you how it will be

There’s one for you, nineteen for me

Cos I’m the taxman, yeah, I’m the taxman”**

Ah yes, it’s that time of year again.

Paid a visit to Mr. Tax Man today. A good man. Conservative. Just what I want in a tax preparer.

I sold a couple shares of stock this year. So Uncle Sam will come whistlin’ through my paycheck before April. Ouch.

I asked Mr. Tax Man if he thought the planned rebates would help stimulate the sagging economy. He said he didn’t see how since the last one didn’t either.

Oh well. All my employees are madly scouring their W2’s to see if they get the rebate. One will miss it by $800. An f-bomb was issued in response. No rebate will be coming my way. *sigh*

So it goes. I remember taxes always made my Dad incredibly tense back in the day. I’m rather happy to give money to a professional to worry about such things. I give him my ragtag pile of documents and he makes magic.

It’s all good.

“If you drive a car, I’ll tax the street
If you try to sit, I’ll tax your seat
If you get too cold, I’ll tax the heat
If you take a walk, I’ll tax your feet”

**with thanks and acknowledgement to The Beatles for writin’ it and Stevie Ray Vaughan for making it move.