Hard to compete with that…
Hello from Surfside, Texas . We are here on vacation this week, which implies that I will be doing a lot of relaxing and having fun. Haha. In the words of the great Lee Corso, “Not so fast my friend.”
We are renting a different beach house this year than we usually do, and it has one television and no ESPN. And ten minutes into swimming, my oldest daughter was stung by a jellyfish. So yeah, it might be a long week.
Tell you what, though. It is kinda nice to sit on the beach and just stare at nothing for a while. I was in the middle of doing that earlier when I started thinking about my nephew and his new bride, who are celebrating their honeymoon on another beach a few thousand miles away right now.
It was a beautiful wedding, with everything going without a hitch. And it lasted about twenty minutes, which is unheard of these days. Every other wedding I’ve been to lately is an all day event.
My nephew cried as the bride’s father walked her down the isle. I’m sure his buddies will poke him in the ribs a little for that, but I won’t. I did the same thing thirteen years ago at my own wedding. You’ve somehow convinced the girl of your dreams to spend the rest of her life with you- if that doesn’t make you a little emotional, something is wrong.
I’ll tell you what I will have a few words with him about, though. In fact, I’m thinking of putting a bag of sugar in his gas tank the next time I see him. He wrote a song for their first dance at the reception. It detailed their time together, from when they first met all the way into the future when they have children. It was one of the most romantic things I’ve ever witnessed, and every married man there wanted to beat him with a tube sock full of batteries.
Have you any idea what kind of pressure that put the rest of us married guys under? We can’t compete with that. Every wife in there turned to their husbands and scolded them for never writing a song about them. As a married man, how was I supposed to follow that up? “Um, baby, want another jello shot? This one’s blue.”
Luckily, we had this vacation planned right after the wedding. So while everyone else’s wife had to go back to work this week, my wife gets to sit on the beach and watch me run into the ocean wearing a tiny speedo. That outta make her fall in love with me all over again. Heck, she might even write a song about me.
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Thursday, July 15, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
And the survey says…
My wife and I were having a discussion the other day. Well, I’m not sure “discussion” is the word to use. It was one of those talks that married people have where you make sure and chuckle after everything you say, just so it won’t turn into a real argument.
Anyway, during the “discussion” she let me know that I was a jerk- only she didn’t say jerk. She used another word for jerk that would never make the paper. It has seven letters, and begins with the letter ‘A’. I’m sure if you use your imagination you can come up with it. But for this column, we’ll use the word jerk.
I disagreed with her, of course. I know I used to be an as-, um, jerk. But I honestly don’t think I am anymore. Maybe it’s being a father, maybe it’s conversations I’ve had with people that I respect. It could be that I’ve just grown older and wiser. Either way, I think I’ve changed a good bit in the last few years.
“Tell you what,” I told her. “Here’s my phone. Let’s call ten people from my contact list that know me well, and we’ll just see how many people think I’m really a jerk.”
She didn’t just run across the room. She did three somersaults and a double back flip on the way. Come to think of it, maybe that was a bad omen for me.
We tried calling one of my nieces, but couldn’t get hold of her. Then we called my boss. The first thing I did was let him know that he was on speaker (always a good idea), then I filled him in on what my wife and I were doing. After what seemed like an hour he finally sided with me- he didn’t think that I was a jerk the majority of the time.
We then called my old boss here at the paper. Again, he took his time thinking about it, but in the end he also took my side and I led two to zip. Then the wheels fell off.
One of my closest friends in the world agreed with my wife. “I’m sorry Shannon ,” he told me. “But I’m a Christian man, and I have church tomorrow morning. There’s no way I can go with a clear conscience if I lie today.”
I told my wife that he shouldn’t really count, because he was letting religion cloud his thinking. I hate when people do that.
“Well, let’s call your sister then,” she said. That didn’t turn out so well. She also agreed with my wife, and it didn’t take her near as long to think about it as the first three people.
Told my wife that her vote shouldn’t count, either. She didn’t really know me that well anymore.
“She’s your sister!” my wife hollered. “I think she knows you pretty well.” Yeah, but we hardly see each other anymore. I’m a different guy now. Anyway, we were tied 2-2 when my wife’s friend Valerie’s name popped up on the screen. Oh Hell.
“Valerie,” my wife told her. “Shannon and I are doing a survey, and we want to know if you think he’s a jer-“
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to answer right now,” I told her. “Take your ti-“
“Yes.”
“Look,” I pleaded, “Think about it for an hour or so, and call us back in a little whil-“
“Yes.”
And that’s pretty much how it went from there. Another one of her friends said I was a jerk. Another one of my friends said I was a jerk. Hell, before long we had people calling the house asking to vote.
I couldn’t take it anymore, so I finally threw in the towel. Imagine being made to watch a Nancy Grace marathon with bamboo sticks underneath your fingernails- that’s how painful it was towards the end.
That’s okay though. This weekend, I think we’ll call ten people from my wife’s phone and see who all thinks she is a, um, “jerk”. Any volunteers?
Love the column? Hate the column? Have an idea for a new column? Go to http://robconews.com/ or http://shannonscasta.blogspot.com/ and leave a comment or suggestion.
My wife and I were having a discussion the other day. Well, I’m not sure “discussion” is the word to use. It was one of those talks that married people have where you make sure and chuckle after everything you say, just so it won’t turn into a real argument.
Anyway, during the “discussion” she let me know that I was a jerk- only she didn’t say jerk. She used another word for jerk that would never make the paper. It has seven letters, and begins with the letter ‘A’. I’m sure if you use your imagination you can come up with it. But for this column, we’ll use the word jerk.
I disagreed with her, of course. I know I used to be an as-, um, jerk. But I honestly don’t think I am anymore. Maybe it’s being a father, maybe it’s conversations I’ve had with people that I respect. It could be that I’ve just grown older and wiser. Either way, I think I’ve changed a good bit in the last few years.
“Tell you what,” I told her. “Here’s my phone. Let’s call ten people from my contact list that know me well, and we’ll just see how many people think I’m really a jerk.”
She didn’t just run across the room. She did three somersaults and a double back flip on the way. Come to think of it, maybe that was a bad omen for me.
We tried calling one of my nieces, but couldn’t get hold of her. Then we called my boss. The first thing I did was let him know that he was on speaker (always a good idea), then I filled him in on what my wife and I were doing. After what seemed like an hour he finally sided with me- he didn’t think that I was a jerk the majority of the time.
We then called my old boss here at the paper. Again, he took his time thinking about it, but in the end he also took my side and I led two to zip. Then the wheels fell off.
One of my closest friends in the world agreed with my wife. “I’m sorry Shannon ,” he told me. “But I’m a Christian man, and I have church tomorrow morning. There’s no way I can go with a clear conscience if I lie today.”
I told my wife that he shouldn’t really count, because he was letting religion cloud his thinking. I hate when people do that.
“Well, let’s call your sister then,” she said. That didn’t turn out so well. She also agreed with my wife, and it didn’t take her near as long to think about it as the first three people.
Told my wife that her vote shouldn’t count, either. She didn’t really know me that well anymore.
“She’s your sister!” my wife hollered. “I think she knows you pretty well.” Yeah, but we hardly see each other anymore. I’m a different guy now. Anyway, we were tied 2-2 when my wife’s friend Valerie’s name popped up on the screen. Oh Hell.
“Valerie,” my wife told her. “Shannon and I are doing a survey, and we want to know if you think he’s a jer-“
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to answer right now,” I told her. “Take your ti-“
“Yes.”
“Look,” I pleaded, “Think about it for an hour or so, and call us back in a little whil-“
“Yes.”
And that’s pretty much how it went from there. Another one of her friends said I was a jerk. Another one of my friends said I was a jerk. Hell, before long we had people calling the house asking to vote.
I couldn’t take it anymore, so I finally threw in the towel. Imagine being made to watch a Nancy Grace marathon with bamboo sticks underneath your fingernails- that’s how painful it was towards the end.
That’s okay though. This weekend, I think we’ll call ten people from my wife’s phone and see who all thinks she is a, um, “jerk”. Any volunteers?
Love the column? Hate the column? Have an idea for a new column? Go to http://robconews.com/ or http://shannonscasta.blogspot.com/ and leave a comment or suggestion.
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