Empty Promises, Flimsy Excuses

Outta the way, people... I'm dusting off the soapbox and I'm not here to wash the floors!

A couple of weeks ago, I found out that possibly my closest friend I’ve ever had, who I’ve been friends with since I was 8, found a note in her husband’s pocket stating that he was unhappy with the marriage and wanted to leave. After confronting him, he admitted it was true and, just as the note says, he left and they have been separated ever since. That was a little over a month or two ago. Stand back, because the soapbox in going down and I’ve got a fistful of note cards to get through, so take a seat and get comfortable.

Ok, I’ll admit he’s not the first person to fall into this situation. I realize that this is not a unique situation and that this happens to a lot of couples. That in itself is the biggest problem. Who on this earth decided it was ok to walk away from a marriage because they were “unhappy”? Am I the only one who thinks this is the most royally insane excuse to ever cross a human’s lips short of the Twinkie defense?

Let’s clarify the details here: there was no physical abuse to speak of, no emotional abuse that I am aware of, and both husband and wife are of relatively sound mind and body. Given the circumstances, I use the latter description of the husband VERY loosely. I’m not standing on principle because he left her. I’m standing on principle because he left her and their TWO-YEAR OLD SON. I’m standing on principle because the guy hasn’t had a decent paying job since before they were married. I’m standing on principle because she is the sole breadwinner in the family and he’s the one unhappy. I’m standing on principle because he wants to settle out of court and have equal custody of their son. I’m standing on principle because this is the biggest JOKE I’ve ever heard from a so-called male in my 36 years of being alive.

Let me break it down this way… even if you’re not happy in your marriage, there are ways to get help. Counseling, family, psychiatrists, shock-therapy… pick one! But even if you’re not interested, has it ever occurred to you that one day your own son is going to look to you as an example of a responsible man? Every son does it, accept it. One day, that little boy is going to ask the question: why did my daddy leave? But under the circumstances, I can definitely see that he won’t get an answer from the source. You see, he’s simply taking the coward’s way out, so there’s nothing that makes me believe he’ll be around to confront that question when it happens. It doesn’t take a brave man to walk away when things get hard. Believe me, I know. I’ve seen the bank account go to pennies, the car payments back up, the rent check bounce… I’ve been there both single and married. I’m now sitting here out of that mess because I CHOSE to roll up my sleeves and change things. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life… and I’m on the other side because I fought through it instead of tucking tail and running.

It’s really simple. They didn’t get married because they got pregnant. They didn’t have the kid because she was the only one who wanted him. They had plenty of time before their son got here to decide what they were going to do with their COLLECTIVE lives. So you see, nobody forced the ring on his finger. His hand wasn’t influenced by anything fate dealt them. He wasn’t the victim here who needed to walk away because he just couldn’t take it anymore. The truth is he has a wife who supported him and his get-rich-quick schemes that invested HER money, a son who means nothing to him since he can just walk away from both of them, and has embraced the mentality of a teenager who couldn’t spell “responsibility” if his penis was stretched out on the chopping block in front of a blind butcher. Bottom line: he’s a coward who walked away from a marriage because he didn’t like playing house anymore. The best part of this whole situation is that he has the audacity to ask her to settle through mediation. Gee, I wonder F’N why???? No job, no money, and pictures on his Facebook page of him hanging out with 20-something’s boozed up in some nightclub. Yeah, you’ve got the wool pulled over our eyes, sparky…

Look, it may not be any of my business when things are all said and done. Yes, it’s my friend of over 25 years so I do take this a little personally. But the reason I’m on the soapbox again is not because it happened to someone I care about. It’s because it’s happening at all. How can any man, a real man, take the vows of marriage and have a family, and then decide that it’s not for him like he’s quitting the pickup game at the YMCA? I understand that some men are abused; it’s not isolated to the women. But I KNOW for a fact that he had a good thing going and is walking away from it because he’s not “happy”. I’ve been a married man for almost 6 years. I can tell you now that the only reason a man walks away from marriage that easily is because he has CONVINCED himself that he’s unhappy, nothing more. Chasing tail and living without consequences has its place… and that place is in your 20’s. Sorry, bud, but you’re missing the mark by about a decade. It doesn’t take a man to walk away from his responsibilities. It takes a man to accept them and deal with them. And no, whining about them doesn’t factor into it, jackass.

Maybe I don’t have the inside info on everything and I may be wrong on a lot of this. I don’t have a baby to take care of (yet) but I am a husband, and I can tell you that throwing it all away because your definition of “happy” is missing the right to act like a horny teenager is nothing short of pathetic. Grow a pair, take your medicine, man-up, and act like a husband and father while your son is still making up his mind about you. Naturally, if ever he were to read this I would expect all of this to fall on deaf ears (or blind eyes, as the case may be). But as we all know, karma is a bitch with teeth and to his ignorance, I offer this parting shot.

One day your son is going to ask you to meet in a restaurant somewhere and, regardless of your relationship with him or how he feels about you, he is going to sit down, take a deep breath, and ask you, “why did you leave Mom and me?” When the flimsy excuses and unfulfilled promises start to flow, your own son will begin realize how empty you and your words really are. Everything you have reaped will begin to reveal itself like so much compost, your son will walk away wondering why he ever cared why you left in the first place, and you will understand finally what it feels like to embrace your true nature: complete and utter uselessness.

And, Uncle Ronn will be there to drive him home… count on it.

Hibernation and Early Risers

Everybody does it at some point in their life. Sleeping stops becoming a necessity and starts becoming an addiction. I remember sliding into bed during hours that no longer qualify as "night" and getting up after most people had eaten two regular meals. It was a welcome knowledge to know that I didn't have anything to do during the day and I could stay in bed for as long as I wanted, and I was a rank-pro at pushing this as far as possible. Let's face it, when your parents are doing wellness checks on you on afternoon weekends, you have a problem.

But that was then. In recent months, my habits have been starting to spontaneously change and I'm beginning to discover a new phenomenon: it's called Sunday morning. For some reason, I have begun to lose the desire to sleep through the AM hours and actually have been getting up earlier and earlier. I can't explain it really, but I'm convinced that it's connected to that terrible occurrence that eventually consumes all of us: age. I used to wonder why my Grandfather would fall asleep before 10:00pm and be up and around at 4:00am every day. As a side note, the reason I know this is because I was usually going to bed when he was getting up. That used to make no sense to me since I loved to sleep so much and I couldn't wrap my head around why a retired man with no real responsibilities anymore didn't take advantage of the amount of free time he had earned. True, I was 19 at the time and didn't really understand the concept of responsibility to begin with, but it still made no sense to me how anyone could wake up at 4:00 in the morning.

Part of me thinks that it has something to do with the fact that I'm older and just don't really need that much sleep anymore. But the harsh reality is probably the onset of that dreaded occurrence that many try to avoid and deny when they can't: maturity. I have started to realize that I don't want to sleep the day away any more because there are things that I want to do. Granted, I'm not talking about getting up at 5:00am because I want to re-spackle the bathroom. Most times I'm up watching some TV, on the computer, or playing video games. But the fact remains that I'm awake during hours that I hadn't seen in my twenties. The irony here is that I've essentially changed the hours but not the habits. I'm basically doing exactly what I was doing in the wee hours of the night, but now I'm doing it in the morning instead.

So what's the point? As time has passed, it's amazing how priorities and perspectives can change without any reason or motivation. I didn't understand why anyone would want to pass up a morning sleeping in, and now I can't fathom losing all those morning hours to excessive sleep. I used to question the sanity of someone who got out of bed before lunch, and now I think the nuts are the ones still in bed after 10:00am. There's no real rhyme or reason to why this happens, but I do know that my priorities have changed so why not my sleeping habits. I will say, though, that if I take nothing else away from this change I have made one big revelation: Sunday morning TV is a helluva lot better than I thought.

Empty promises and TMI

Ok, so I lied...

With the best of intentions I intended on being more diligent about posting to my blog and, as you can see, that was a pipe dream at best. Still, inspiration can come from the most unlikely of places and in this case it comes from me READING a blog post. Truthfully, while I'm grateful for the writing muse to return, the subject of my motiviation to post was somewhat... disturbing.

I work with some colorful characters: let's just get that out in the open before I go any further. Needless to say, when a co-worker told me she kept a blog I was intrigued. As sharp as her wits are and as quick as her verbal jabs can be, I figured it would be a great read between calls and orders. I can't honestly say I was 100% correct, but if the the hallmark of good writing is an unforgettable experience, then baby this one was a SUPERB example of superior writing.

As I was sworn to keep my big mouth shut about the content of her blog, I will leave out the *ahem*... unnecessary details. Suffice it to say it was a detailed account of a wife and mother's afternoon with a sun beam and minimal coverage. And no, we're not talking about sunscreen here. Now, I'm a red-blooded mail who likes to take the occasional dip in the gutter every now and then. But, when you work with a person you respect who, for all intents and purposes, seems pretty laid back, reading an account like this can be a bit jarring.

Screw that, it was like getting smacked in the head with a pair of nunchuks during REM sleep...

Frankly, I'm all about the freedom of speech in writing and I fully endorse her ability (and guts) to write so honestly. In her defense, she's not exactly the Susie Homemaker type either so I guess I should have expected more than just what last week's barbecue was like. Knowing what I know about her from our working relationship, I did expect an edge to the blog and I was prepared for it. Still, that was a lot to hit a guy with mid-afternoon on a Friday.

So what's the point? First and foremost, this is mostly in response to her blogged apology for "burning my eyes out" with her post, which I do appreciate. But as all writers should do, I also needed to reflect on the experience. It wasn't so much the fact that I was reading a detailed description of a birthday-suit sunbathing of someone that I spend most of my working day with... I'll be replaying that account in my head whether I want to or not for the next week or so anyway. It has more to do with the fact that it occurred to me that inspiration for writing can come from the most unlikely of places. If she didn't feel compelled to post that experience, I would not be sitting here writing this after neglecting my blog for the better part of 6 months. Writers write, and in the absence of inspiration from personal experience, sometimes it does take an exterior influence to jar us into putting words down; No matter how random (or disturbing) the incident may be.

So, I extend my thanks to my co-worker (who shall still remain nameless under penalty of finding my cubicle varnished) for the kick-start back into my blog. Despite the oddity of the whole thing, it was nice to get the juice to write again and hopefully this time it will continue.

(... I can't wait to see her next blog about that barbecue, though. Can you imagine...?)