|Curing Male Mental Pause (standard:non fiction, 1297 words)|
|Author: Eutychus||Added: Feb 03 2003||Views/Reads: 1789/996||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Some of the best reading I've ever done have been letters. I have received some that I save like pieces of written artwork. This is one I wrote to a friend during a decisive time in his life. I think it helped.|
Tom- Hi. I thought write and thank you for the birthday card. In that you are six months older than I am, I have a tough time understanding why you view my turning forty to be so amusing. I suppose this indicates life after forty is something that one can easily laugh at. Remember that I told you about my boss' wife running off with a friend she acquired after twenty-five years of seemingly happy marriage? Well he seems to be doing better. He's moving past all the anger and bitterness that having to pay lawyers usually causes and has found a new friend of his own. Met her in a chat room of all places. I always viewed those places as the last refuge of the digitally desperate, but she seems to be an all right kind of person. As long as he's happy, I suppose. I wondered about what might cause a person in an established relationship that seems to be working to go over if not to the dark side, at the very least, to the not-so-bright side. I mean there are children to consider, an investment of time, effort, and emotions to weight in the balance. I know there is no way that I can reasonably understand the situation, and I know that it takes two to make a marriage work or fail, but I've already warned Kim not to do to me what she did to him because I don't want to have to kill her. (ha ha!) The other morning I got a taste of that whole scene and thought I'd share my observations with you. Do you remember that A-frame house behind the McCoy's property that they rented out to college students? Mr. McCoy called the office a few days ago and said there was a leak in the kitchen ceiling. If you are unlucky, this means you have to open up the ceiling to find and fix the leak. I was not unlucky. It turns out the girl living there (they have been renting to small families and unwed mothers since five years after we graduated from college) doesn't understand the importance of not letting water collect on the floor outside the tub. Water finds its way to any available crack and heads for the lower floor. Easily fixed with some silicone caulk. After taking care of several “as long as you're here can you take a look at...” problems, the young mother sent the four-year-old upstairs and signed the work order indicating that the work had been done to her satisfaction and that I had performed the service in a neat and workman-like manner. It was at this point that things got a little odd. She asked if we did creative financing for our service work. After explaining that I was totally out of the loop regarding the billing end of things, her robe opened farther than I thought it needed to be, especially when there appeared to be nothing under the robe but flesh. I excused myself and made a hurried exit. Whether she meant what I was assuming I'll never know, but I will not be going back to the A-frame for a while. I explained the situation to the boss and flat out refused to service that young lady. You can read into that whatever you like. My next service call sent me up to Solon to change some sprinkler heads that had popped when temperatures over the oven at a facility that heat-treats steel got much higher than the sprinklers were rated. During the drive I had a chance to reflect on my recent encounter. But in actual fact, I found myself thinking more of home than the rental property. At home I'll find a six foot tall fourteen-year-old who will without fail still expect me to come outside with him every night to play basketball. He knows there is still a kid inside me, though that kid comes out less frequently to play. The kid will usually wind up injured these days even when there was no real incident. That happens to forty-year-old kids, as I'm sure you recall. Also at home there is a woman with whom I feel comfortable. I don't mean that to be interpreted “used to”. I mean I feel comfortable with her. She gives me comfort in so many ways. She appreciates me in ways no one else ever has. I simply can't imagine anyone else in the world erupting into a fit of giggles when I fart in bed and throw the covers up over our heads. Yes, I'm gross, disgusting, and rude, but she takes it all in stride. She knows me at my best, worst, and silliest and still washes my clothes and lets me take her out to dinner. There is something to be said for that in the world today. Click here to read the rest of this story (43 more lines)
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