CSotD: Separate Lives
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Brad Diller's salute to marital empathy and engagement in Funday Morning struck me at the right moment.
I've been streaming Netflix while doing dishes recently, and, in particular, the "American Experience" series on presidents. Apparently, finding a spouse who even knows what you do for a living, much less gives a rat's patootie about it — or about any of your other interests, activities and personal needs — is pretty uncommon and could perhaps be a barrier to greatness.
And it also appears to be one area in which gender equality has truly been achieved.
Poor Harry Truman was devoted to Bess, but she wouldn't even live in Washington, leaving him to serve his terms in the Senate and the White House essentially alone, writing lovelorn notes to her and sending them back to Missouri. Every once in awhile, he'd rise to a level of anger, disappointment, loneliness and sorrow sufficient to motivate him to write her a note expressing how much he needed her support, but those letters were found in his papers, unmailed.
And his predecessor, FDR, married his brilliant, witty and devoted but physically unattractive and socially insecure cousin Eleanor and, as soon as he began amassing a little street cred in DC, essentially abandoned her in favor of open affairs with more attractive aides.
How different history might have been if orthodontia had been more advanced a century ago!
And then last night, with the Texans and the Saints tied — TIED! — the dog got up off the couch and went to lie down in the bedroom. Okay, it was 10:30, but still.
Man's best friend my ass. I might just as well be married.
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