Wednesday, July 16, 2008

The secret to being married for thirty years is.......


These are two of my grandchildren. They're cousins. Angelina Isabella is almost two and John Anthony just turned two. Whenever they are together they “talk” and laugh and generally have a good time. We have no idea what they talk about or even what language. We think they're speaking Czechoslovakian, Greek or in some kind of code. So I believe that means my grandchildren are geniuses.

"What the hell are they talking about?"

“I think Angelina is a liberal."

"What!!!"

"She said something about Obama.”

“She said mamma.”

“I think John wants the remote.”

"I think they're talking about dinner."

"Nahhhhhh....... They'd be arguing....."

“Well they seem to understand each other.”

“That’s because they’re not married.”



I consider myself a very fortunate man.

There are very few of us that can say they’ve been married to the same woman for thirty years.

In a row.

Since our anniversary in June I’ve had a lot of people comment on how amazing it is that we’ve been married for so long.

Why is that such a shock?

You see I don’t believe the grass is always greener on the other side. I figure grass is grass; you just have to constantly remember to mow and water it.

Which is why I don’t have a lawn.

I hate yard work.

I have rocks.

Rocks never have to be mowed. Rocks don’t need fertilizer. Rocks never go anywhere. Rocks are just rocks. You hose them off every once in a while to keep them clean and they’re good to go.

But they don’t go.

Because they’re rocks.

Which in a nutshell is why I’ve been married for thirty years.

I like rocks.

Some people say that my wife is a rock for putting up with me for thirty years.



Now I know a lot of people that have been married more than once. I know one poor guy that’s been married five times.

Why?

Why would you do that?

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?”

“Well… kind of… what happens if she just wounds me?”

All his previous marriages ended in divorce.

Don’t you think at some point this guy needs to look in the mirror and say, “Is it me?”

And what kind of an idiot marries a guy that’s been married four times.

"Oh I know I’m the one, he says I’m his soul mate."

By the way he’s fifty four and his new wife is twenty seven.

Yeah…. That’s gonna last.


I could never do that.

Marry a woman in her twenties…

How in the hell do you listen to that music?

How in the hell does a guy in his fifties even talk to a woman in her twenties?

I’d have to hire an interpreter.

“She says you’re too old and you’re creeping her out.”

“Tell her I have money.”

I had one friend of mine tell me that my wife and I have been married for thirty years because we’re “comfortable” with each other.

Ya think?

Of course I’m comfortable.

What’s wrong with being comfortable?



They say the secret to being happy in life is comfortable shoes.

Maybe if you’re single, but trust me, the secret to being happy in life if you’re married is being comfortable with your wife.”

But this comfort thing didn’t come overnight.

I had to be trained.

Now I’m smart.

I’m like the farmers pet pig that only had three legs.

I’m too smart to eat all at once.

Even that pig was comfortable.

For a while.

But the real secret to being married for thirty years is communication.

It doesn't mean you have to understand what the hell your wife is talking about.

As long as you're communicating.

A typical conversation might go something like this:

“What do you want to watch?”

“I dunno. What to you wanna watch?”

“America’s top model.”

“I don’t wanna watch that.”

“Then go upstairs.”

“I’m hungy.”

“What do you wanna eat?”

“I don’t know. What do you want to eat?”

“I dunno… something.”

“Do want fast food?”

“I dunno.”

“Just get me something.”

“What?"

“Anything.”

“Okay I'll go to Wendy’s?”

“I don’t like Wendy’s”

“You said anything.”

“Anything but Wendy’s”

“How about Arby’s?”

“Anything but Wendy’s and Arby’s."

“But….”

“Just get me a cheeseburger.”

“From where?”

“I don’t care.”

And that my friends is the secret.

In the end it all comes down to making her happy.

Even if it doesn't make any sense.






Thursday, July 03, 2008

Walk Like a Man.........

Okay… This is a little personal.

It’s difficult to talk about.

It still gives me nightmares.

But they say time heals all wounds and it’s only been a week.

I spent four days in Las Vegas last week. My wife and eight other friends went with us. I had to do a radio promotion and a few other business related items but the trip was mainly for pleasure.

We all were going to see The Jersey Boys on Saturday night.

We stayed at the Venetian Hotel. The Venetian and the new Palazzo Hotel are really pushing the Jersey Boys theme. You can’t ride an elevator in either hotel without hearing Frankie Valli music.

Here’s the thing.

Lately I’ve been traveling a lot. A hotel suite, no matter how fancy, is just not the same as being at home.

They say a man’s home is his castle. That’s not entirely true. It’s really just one room of the house that’s his castle.

You got it.

The bathroom.

Sanctuary.

Next to the remote there is nothing more precious to a man than his bathroom.

Sometimes men will just take the remote into the bathroom with them. It doesn’t get any better than that.

A man’s bathroom is comforting. It’s private. It’s like going back to the womb, if the womb had a sports page.

But a hotel bathroom is different.

Especially if you’re sharing one with your wife.

You have to plan “sanctuary”.

On Saturday morning I woke up at 4:30 in the morning for absolutely no reason. This happens to you when you turn fifty and is the primary reason for early morning traffic jams.

Old people awake with nothing to do and no where to go. “I think I’ll go for a drive.”

But that’s another story.

Since I hadn’t gone to bed until 2:30 in the morning this was at first a little annoying. But as I looked over at my wife who was sound asleep, and by the smile on her face obviously dreaming of a Nordstrom shoe sale, it hit me.

Sanctuary!

Then my next thought was that I needed something to read.

Men know what I mean. I’ve read everything while seeking sanctuary. I don’t know what methyparaben, propelene glycol, Octyl methoxycinnamate, sodium laurel sulfate or FD & C colors are but I know they’re in shampoo.

So I grab all the magazines in the suite. “One of these has to be worth reading.”

“Sanctuary” in a suite at the Venetian is actually a little closet inside the bathroom. So technically you can close yourself off in the bathroom and then close yourself off in the little closet so you have an extra layer of “sanctuary”.

Ummmm……

This is the tough part.

Just as I started to get “settled”……

“BOOOOOOOWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOOWWWWOP!!!! This is the Venetian hotel early alert system. There has been an incident in the hotel that we are investigating. Blah blah blah blah blah….. BOOOOOWWWOP!!! BOOOOOOWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOWWWOP!!!!
What the hell?

Did you know that there’s a speaker in your hotel room that broadcasts messages and alarms?

I didn’t.

You can’t believe how loud this was.

It sounded like we were under attack.

F%*&ing Taliban.

Figures…. Just as I get “settled” the commie bastards attack.

I thought maybe I was dreaming.

But then…..

“BOOOOOOOWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOOWWWWOP!!!! This is the Venetian hotel early alert system. There has been an incident in the hotel that we are investigating. Blah blah blah blah blah….. BOOOOOWWWOP!!! BOOOOOOWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOWWWOP!!!!

Crap!

Now I’m locked up tighter than an altar boy before mass.

But I’ve got a decision to make.

Do I finish getting “settled”?

“BOOOOOOOWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOOWWWWOP!!!! This is the Venetian hotel early alert system. There has been an incident in the hotel that we are investigating. Blah blah blah blah blah….. BOOOOOWWWOP!!! BOOOOOOWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOWWWOP!!!!

Or do I flee for my life?

Then the answer came to me.

It came over the speaker in our room.

“Stay…. Ahhhhhh just a little bit longer…..please please please please tell me that you’re gonna….”

Frankie Valli had answered the question.

“BOOOOOOOWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOOWWWWOP!!!! This is the Venetian hotel early alert system. There has been an incident in the hotel that we are investigating. Blah blah blah blah blah….. BOOOOOWWWOP!!! BOOOOOOWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOWWWOP!!!!

There couldn’t possibly be a real emergency if they were playing Frankie Valli music in between the announcements. Could there?

“Hang on, hang on, hang on to what we got Dooh doo, dooh doo, dooh doo……”

This had to be a sign.

I’m not going anywhere. This was my “sanctuary”. This was my moment. I may die but I’ll die… ummm… lighter.

I told you this was difficult to write about.

I get my concentration back and read about the Blue Man Group, the best buffets in town, where to buy jewelry, Las Vegas restaurant reviews, the Tao night club………………

“BOOOOOOOWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOOWWWWOP!!!! This is the Venetian hotel early alert system. There has been an incident in the hotel that we are investigating. Blah blah blah blah blah….. BOOOOOWWWOP!!! BOOOOOOWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOWWWOP!!!!

“Working my way back to you babe with a burning love inside…….”

You can’t make this stuff up.

Now some of you are probably wondering what my wife was doing during all of this.

It’s simple.

She was snoring.

Yes through all the commotion, the alarm, the music….. she slept.

I leave “sanctuary” shave, shower, get dressed and turn on the TV.

“BOOOOOOOWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWOP!!!!! BOOOOOOOOOWWWWOP!!!! This is the Venetian hotel early alert system. The incident has been investigated and has been resolved.”

Now my wife wakes up.

“It’s six o’clock in morning! Dammit Calabrese you woke me up! I need some sleep. What the hell are you doing up at six o’clock in the morning? We’re in Vegas who the hell gets up at six o’clock in the morning?”

“My eyes adored you….. though I never laid a hand on you…. My eyes adored you….”

“Where is that music coming from? Turn that damn radio off!!!”

“So close… so close and yet so far……”

And the music stopped.