What I know after 12 years of marriage

On our anniversary I wanted to share some facts about my lovely bride and what I know about making a relationship work.

Ashley works harder than anyone I know, even though everyone already thinks she's amazing at her job.

She dances in the grocery store aisles: I give her a dollar to stop. This happens so often that I think it's really what's causing the economy to stall.

Our biggest fight was six years ago over how to load the dishwasher. It was a doozie. And it was the only fight I ever won. So now, I load the dishwasher 100% of the time. #Winner (Update: she loaded the dishwasher this morning while I was dozing and did a damn fine job.)

She's a better parent than I am.

If I could turn back time, I'd propose in some fantastically creative way that required tons of planning, prep time, props and people. Like a flash mob, but you know... cool.

She is WAY more forgiving than I am. WAAAAAAAAYYYYY more forgiving.

A lot of people don't know this, but Ashley and I broke up for a while when we were dating. I call it "being on a break" (a la "Friends"). Ash calls it "the six months I came to my senses."

She doesn't give herself enough credit. Ever.

I would do anything just to make her laugh.

Her taste and mine in music and movies don't really jive because she likes stuff that came out after 1997 and "Twilight."

Ashley makes great meatloaf, the best pumpkin pie and really good-looking babies.

She doesn't realize that she could have done SO much better than me. But don't tell her.

I can't think of a single time that she's ever said "No" when someone asked her for help.

I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. Choosing to be with her was not one of them.

A Man's Man's Advice to His Wife

Surviving Black Friday

I can’t fathom why anyone would subject themselves to shopping on Black Friday, but they do. Personally, I don’t see myself braving the crowds to save $2 on the next big thing.
  

Not trying to be sexist here, but this is almost purely an affectation for women. Men hate crowds (unless it’s a sporting event) and we hate to shop (unless it’s for cars, tools or grills.)

I have some experiences in life that can help you prepare and make your Black Friday more fun and more successful. For one thing, I picked up some survival skills when I was lost in the woods for almost two hours. As someone who enjoyed sports back in the day, I know to stretch and stuff. And I planned to be an Eagle Scout, until I realized I’d have to make my way through Webelos before becoming a boy scout, which was a deal breaker.

Plus, as a guy, I just have an overwhelming need to solve problems.

So here's my advice to the ladies venturing out on Black Friday.

 

Carbo load the night before.

Shouldn’t be a problem, considering the day was Thanksgiving and most people ingest the equivalent of a bushel of wheat in carbohydrates. But, make sure to eat a good breakfast. Get some protein, so you won't get hungry.

Pack a survival kit.

Yeah, I said it. Pack one. Include some snacks, drinks, an extra jacket and some band-aids, just in case it turns ugly. 

Fill up the night before… with gas.

Saves time. Who knows what the lines will be like. And under NO circumstances should you go inside a convenience store or gas station for anything. If you didn’t pack it, you don’t need it.

Buddy up.

Shopping with someone can keep you motivated and it’s always good to have support. But choose wisely. Leave you know who at home. You won’t be able to concentrate when they start whining. You’ll lose time when they wander off. They’ll want to get something to eat two or three times. You won’t want to deal with them asking why you’re buying that. In short, don't take your husband.

 

Be prepared for a fight.

You’d do anything for your family, right? Remember, what happens at Target, stays at Target. If it’s not worth fighting dirty for, it’s not worth buying.

Travel light.

Nothing bulky. Nothing heavy. Leave the big purse at home. You’re not laying siege. You’re hitting quick and moving on. LikeBritish Special Forces but with better dental hygiene.

Hydrate.

Take a couple of bottles of water with you. And remember the runner’s rule: If you’re thirsty, you’ve waited too long.

Caffeinate.

Early and often. You might even consider picking up a 5 Hour Energy and a couple of Starbuck’s Double Shots. Actually stopping by a coffee shop could cost you valuable minutes and mean the difference between getting your daughter an Ipad and getting her new clothes.

Stop for a light lunch.

Quick energy… something from the four basic food groups. Avoid anything that involves using a spoon, OK? Soup is slow. Sammiches are for winners.

Wear comfortable shoes.

Don’t be a hero and wear flats. Or sandals. You’re going to be traveling far and fast. Tennis shoes, or lightweight hunting boots, even. For God’s sake, get something with some support… arch AND ankle.

Dress for all conditions.

Layering is the key. Most likely, it'll be cold in the morning, but warmer in the afternoon. As you're working, you may start to feel warm. That's not good. Wear light layers that can be shed quickly. Avoid a heavy jackey, if possible. The last thing you need is a coat taking up valuable rolling real estate.

Use social check-ins.

Unless you don’t LIKE saving money or knowing that they're serving snacks somewhere in the store.

Don't take down the first thing that comes along.

Stopping off to find clothes in junior miss, no matter how good the deal, is a rookie mistake. That sweater will be there in an hour. The new Tranformer won’t. Hit toys and electronics first.

Cash is for amateurs.

It does slow down the process. If you lose your wallet, it’s a hassle, but credit cards can be replaced. Cash can’t. Flash a lot of cash, and you just became a target. Make sure to have some coin on-hand for parking meters and bell ringers, though. That’s pro preparation right there.

Let your husband go play poker when you get home.

That’ll do it. Happy shopping. I’m out.

Open Letter to My Dad

Dear Dad,
It's been a long time. I'm not saying that to be an asshole or anything, but it's been 11 years since I got that phone call at 6:30 in the morning on November 12, 2001.

We knew it was November 11 when you left, because there's no way you made it to midnight that day. You worked around the farm most of the day, and I know for you, that day was probably about as perfect as you could get. In a place that you loved, doing the things that you loved, working around the farm, cooking up some venison, having a few

and some of your favorite deer camp "horse dervies" which no one in their right mind would eat

By the way, that pronunciation died with you. But I'm bringing it back. Along with the camel joke.

For the first time since you left, November 11 was Veteran's Day for me. I didn't think much about it being your last day. And I know you wouldn't want it any other way. "Ten years is a long time to grieve," you'd say.

Like almost every other thing you said, you'd probably be right.

But the thing is, there's not a day goes by that I don't think about you. Everyone misses you and still talks about you like you're still here, even eleven years later. That's strong, Dad.

Dad with his little buddy, Levi, sporting the do-rags.

I'll let you know that I finally visited you. Twice now. The first time, I lasted about 15 seconds. But it broke the ice. This past Memorial Day, I went with Toby, his buddy, Mike and Ashley and we drank a beer with you. For you, I guess is the more appropriate term.

I still haven't been down to the farm. I may never go, even though I know it is a special place you chose because you wanted to retire there someday. Someday just came way too fast.

I know what you'd say about that, too, Dad: "I wanted this to be a place where you boys could go and take your families. You should go."

But I really only know it as the place where you died and would only know it without you. Toby and Duke know the place with you there. They got to see how you looked at it and talked about it.

I know that's where your spirit is. Danny has said he's seen you there. I hope he's right. But he knows the place with you there, too. I think that's why I've been reluctant to go: I'm afraid I won't see you there. It would just be the place where your journey ended and I don't want that. Hopefully someday, I'll be able to make that trip and walk your land with you.

I miss the way you'd laugh. The way you'd grin, with the glint in your eyes because you knew something funny was coming. There was that snort thing you'd do. Then three or four chortles that could be mistaken for a coughing fit. Now I'm thinking that watching you laugh is the reason I try to make people laugh.


I think what I miss most about you is how damn philosophical you were. I'm not really sure that others know that about you. But there was just so much I learned about how to be a man shooting pool with you. You taught me more about life playing pool and drinking a few beers than all of my professors put together. You were my greatest teacher. I want you to know that.

I guess I've come to the reason for this: I'm working through some things that I need to change about myself. I don't have your patience, and I sorely wish I knew your secret. I don't have your wisdom, even though I'm as old now as you were when I graduated high school. I'm still not half the man you were, but I'm trying, Dad. I'm trying.

So for me, November 11 was Veteran's Day. I'm fairly certain you'd be comfortable with that. But your birthday's coming up next weekend. That's always been harder for me. I don't think November 19 will just be Saturday.

Love you,
Number one son (I even remember the Charlie Chan reference)
Joel

Breaking up

Seriously, Tom. You've gotta quit showing up here.

You keep sending me those "I miss you" emails. And now you keep showing up on my wall. Like every other day. You're embarassing me in front of my friends. You're better than that.

Plus, I heard you were with Justin now? What's up with that? You should be concentrating on that relationship, not trying to talk to me.

You keep asking me to come back. You said you've changed, but it's too little, too late. You just couldn't give me what I need.

If it's any comfort, I never cheated. We were through when I found Mark. I'm with Mark now. Sure he's a little pretentious and sometimes can be a little heavy handed, but he's got goals. Oh, you heard that he picks what he thinks I should read? Yeah, he does that, but I think he'll stop. I can change him.

No, Tom. You're great. I think you're great. You'll find someone else. I just know it. You're laid back and you have your bands and all. And that's great! You should do what makes you happy. I just need something else.

I know you said you want to be friends, but I think we need to make a clean break. I'm not trying to be mean, but if you ever liked me, you need to let me go. We had some good times, and I want to keep those memories. but I don't want to see you here. Please don't come here any more. It's too painful.

I just don't want to lead you on. I hope you don't read anything into this, but I just need my space.

Open Letter to My Wife on Valentine's Day

Hi honey. This is our tenth Valentines Day together. And people said we'd never make it past two. Truth be told, I had four in the pool. Don't blame me, though. Your Mom took three and my Mom took one and two, but she knows what it's like to live with me.

Seriously... can you believe it?

When you think about it, it doesn't seem that long. How can 10 years have gone by so quickly? On the other hand, when you  think about it, it seems like an eternity. I think that's because things have changed in our relationship.

We don't stay up till all hours talking about weird stuff like movies and books and where we want to go and what we want to do and why "adhese" isn't really a word.

We barely make it till 10:00 these days.

Valentines Day started with cards and poems. Dinner at a nice restaurant, or at least someplace special to us. It ended with candles, in bed and falling asleep in each other's arms.

This year, it was Taco Bueno before rushing to Aidan's basketball practice. The creaking and moaning sounds coming from the bedroom are from me and my aching knee which makes noises all its own.

I don't want you to think I regret the changes in the relationship; I don't. It's a natural progression of breaking in and getting comfortable. Like your favorite flannel shirt.

By the way, that used to be MY favorite flannel shirt. Why the hell did you start sleeping in that, anyway?

Even your snoring is different. I used to find the soft purr coming from you so cute. It became comforting, and I couldn't sleep without you next to me, lulling me to sleep with the soft drone of your sleep sounds.

Now I keep the guest room bed made because it's more like the not-so-cute drone of my old shop vac. I know it's true when you say the shop vac would be drowned out by my own chainsaw-like buzz when I get into deep sleep.

One thing that hasn't changed is my love for you. You are more beautiful now than the day I met you. You've become your own person. You have brilliant, creative ideas. You still make me laugh. I still love to see you smile. Your touch is still electric to me.

Especially when it's your cold feet on my legs in the middle of the night. Seriously, woman. Wear some socks.

Love,

Joel

Gay marriage? Go for it.

Friday, I was listening to the Shanin & Parks show during afternoon drive time. It's a local talk show that deals with the issues of the day and has a conservative bent, for the most part.

The issue was gay marriage. Callers were understandably split, as this is a divisive issue both socially and politically. Most who opposed gay marriage cited the Bible as the source of their objection. They use terms like "sanctity of marriage" and "union between man and a woman." Those who support gay marriage usually don't cite anything. They just say that it doesn't bother them, or that society has evolved. They will say that society is more accepting of inter-racial marriage and people who live together and never marry than it once was.

Then there was Terry from Overland Park.

He wanted to know why more people didn't mention studies done in countries that allow gay marriage, 70% of the children born in that country are illegitimate. The people in Holland and Denmark, he said, where gay marriage is allowed, are popping out illegitimate kids at an alarming rate. Why weren't people mentioning those studies?

I reached for my cell phone.

First of all, I hate the term "illegitimate children." All children are legitimate. They all need food and clothing and love. To me, it doesn't matter the marital state of their parents. Do "legitimate" children suddenly become illegitimate when their parents divorce?

I'm getting off the subject at hand. Suffice it to say that no one addressed Terry's concerns about why these studies to which he was privy were never cited. And I never got through to the station to voice my opinion.


So I'm going to use this forum to state my opinion about gay marriage and Terry's opinion about those studies.

I have searched the Internet and haven't found those studies. I've found opinions in support of some studies that kind look at that correlation. One even went so far as to examine possible objections to his opinion.

You might say, “Correlation doesn’t always indicate causation.” Yes, but often it does.

Wow. That's compelling. Yes, but often it does. The author then went on to talk about no-fault divorce, which has nothing to do with gay marriage. Like Terry, he offered no real support for his opinion.

Children being born out of wedlock (another of my favorite terms) are not the result of gay marriage. How can it be? By and large, gay people are not breeders.

In those countries that allow gay marriage, adoption by gay couples is more prevalent. A child who needs a family is adopted by two people in a loving committed relationship? Fine by me. In my mind, that child is much better off than one who is brought up by a single parent who either can't support him or doesn't want him.

In direct response to Terry from Overland Park, I would say that no one cites those studies for several reasons:

1. No one can find them.
2. Even the most ardent anti-gay marriage Bible thumper has to agree that any argument citing the correlation between gay marriage and illegitimate kids is thin, at best, when discussing gay marriage. At worst, it's irrelevant.
3. You're a jackass for thinking that way.

If I had gotten through to the radio station, I wonder if I could have snuck that one by the sensor. Probably not.

I think a lot of people have problems with the semantics. "Don't call it marriage. Call it a civil union." That's a crap argument, too.

Marriage is a civil union, even if you get married in a church. Don't believe me? Try getting married in a church by a preacher, minister or priest without presenting them with a license. The state is giving its OK for the union, the church is just providing the place and the officiant. (Ours was George Harrison... the banker, not the Beatle.)

In the end, I have to agree with a lot of the people who called when I say I'm fully in support of it. Two people in a committed relationship should not be denied the same rights that I have when it comes to the economic benefits of marriage, if there are any. They should be able to buy a house together, be eligible for insurance provided by their partner's employer if it's better, be allowed to inherit property without contest, and be allowed the power of attorney when it comes time to make decisions.

They should be subject to the phone calls about when they'll be home, the nagging about their habits or hobbies, the arguments about money or toothpaste on the counter, or whose turn it is to carry out the trash. Who am I to deny them that?

Why I'm an asshole

Over the years, many times someone has come to me and said, "You're a good person and I love you, but you can be an asshole sometimes." So today, I've been thinking about why.

I think people thinking this of me stems from two possible scenarios. The first happens more often than not; the second is what I'm talking about here.

I have a very dry sense of humor. It's not very often that I set out to say something mean. It's just that some people take what I say way too seriously. It happens often. I don't deny it. I don't understand how the person I've offended doesn't say, "Wait. What does that mean? Are you serious?"

I would. But that's me. I give people the opportunity to explain what they've said. If they're joking, I forgive. If they're not, I give them a chance to apologize. If I've said something to offend someone (it's happened) and I am told they're offended, I like the opportunity to tell them "I'm sorry. It was a joke. And a bad one." If I'm not joking, I tell them why I said what I've said. If they don't like me for it, then it is what it is.

The other scenario occurs when someone acts in such a way I find disappointing. They do something that is despicable. Something that goes beyond decency, and offer no explanation for what they've done. Or worse yet, offer weak explanation for what they've done.

When someone is disloyal, it really makes me mad. When I've done nothing but be there for them, make sacrifices for them, and they do something to deliberately hurt me, it makes me question their very souls.

When my former friends and employees took over the space that used to house Kyle's Tap Room, the bar I owned for six years, it hurt me incredibly. If any one of them had been forced out of business as I had by an unscrupulous landlord, I would have helped them get even, not sign a lease agreement and gone into business using the equipment my friend couldn't remove. They are creating a business from what I was forced to leave behind. They never came to talk to me about it until they'd signed the lease. Even though they knew the landlord's actions cost me my life's savings and six years of work, they decided the best thing to do was go into business at no cost to them. My friendship and loyalty wasn't worth doing the right thing.

And now, another instance of someone behaving in such a way, that I find unforgivable recently happened. (This would be the example of the "weak" explanation for what they've done.)

I really take offense when someone lets another person down and justifies their action with their own personal problem. I've seen it happen when relationships break down when one is going through a tough time. Illness, money problems, unemployment... they're all part of being in a relationship. I've seen too many people abandon their significant other when they're going through a tough time. The explanation being, "I have my own problems to work out. I can't be there for you."

Usually the problem they need to work on is significantly less problematic than what the other is facing. The one leaving the relationship is the weak one. The one who needs to lean on the other in trying times is the stronger of the two and asks for nothing more than a little support.

But they get none. It makes me want to lash out at them, but in this case I can't. I'm not close enough this time to take the person aside and tell him what a jackass he's being. If telling him he's a sorry excuse for a human being makes me an asshole, so be it. I won't lose any sleep over it. How could I? I only sleep four hours a night.

These things make me question the moral fiber of some people. It makes me realize that some people truly have no souls. In some small way, however, it makes me want to be a better person, because I know that sometimes people don't get the support they need when they need it the most. It makes me want to be there for them, as I wish people would be there for me when I need it. Know this: If we are friends, I'll never betray you. You can always count on me to help, if I can.

Anyway... if you're reading this, and you've ever thought I was an asshole because of something I've said, it's one of two things. Either I was joking with you and you didn't get it, or you did something I would NEVER do because my Dad would kick the shit out of me for behaving that way.

 If it's the first, we can talk about it and I'll probably apologize. If it's the second, you can talk to my Mom and she'll kick the shit out of you.