P.S. Torn Slatterns and Nugget Ranchers


That was just my lovely wife, Virginia on the phone. I can describe the difference between me and my wife like this: Remember the Sheryl Crowe song “All I Wanna Do”? The song describes a guy in a sleazy bar getting a beer buzz on early in the morning while looking across the street at the self-car wash where "the good people of the world are scrubbing their cars as best they can in suits and skirts." Well, I am the shlub in the bar and my wife is one of the good people.

Long before real estate agents bastardized it to stress location, Washington Irving once said the three most important qualities in a person are kindness, kindness, and kindness. Well, my wife is extremely kind. In fact, maybe too kind. Would it kill her to actually take her turn at a four way stop sign, or does she have to let everyone in the world go before her?

And she thinks it’s rude to ever hang up on someone in any way, so, as a result, her side of the phone conversation never actually ends. Ever. I like to talk on the phone, but I want to talk like a field commander talks in battle on the radio:

“Send in air cover now. Click.”

My wife takes longer to say goodbye than I want to talk;

Me: Honey, seriously, for the third time, I really gotta go.

Virg; Oh, OK, well then I guess I’ll see you at home later and . . . oh, yeah, what do you want to do for dinner? Oh, and remember, I’ve got that thing I want us to go to . . .

Me: I HAVE TO HANG UP THE PHONE NOW!

Virg: (Silent hurt pause) Why do you have to yell?

God forbid, but if my lovely wife, Virginia, was ever on the radio in battle, everyone in her command would be dead from sniper fire before she even got done saying hello to the person on other end.