Tag Archives: marriage

Hot, Hot, Hot

Image: Cover art for The Feral Chicken of Clayton (and other essays)
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(This essay is several years old and refers to my very patient and forgiving ex-wife. Enjoy.)

COUPLES ARE WONT to go through many pleasant infatuations after getting married. A gardening fad, a fancy for sewing, a board game craze – these are all well known. Sometimes these are long and involved, others are brief, like a shooting star. My conservative estimate is that my wife and I went through at least 5,237 different mania during the seven years we were married.

The majority were of a singular kind – I began woodworking, she began doing something called ‘tatting’. Notable were the obsessions that involved both my wife and myself, such as the ‘survivalist’ frenzy of 1999, or the disastrous ‘Atkins Diet’ event. For a time (an odd time), I even found myself saving dryer lint for a planned future mania (I was not informed what that might be). Few of these frenzied activities came and went as quickly as the Great Dehydration Passion of 1995.

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Post-Op

Image: Cover art for The Feral Chicken of Clayton (and other essays)
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(This essay is several years old and refers to my very patient and forgiving ex-wife. Enjoy.)

MY  SURGERY WAS COMPLETE, so I returned to my humble abode, and did rest. A few beverages, a cold compress to reduce the swelling, and sleep.

I awoke feeling some tenderness. Mild discomfort. This was to be expected, I was advised. I was further advised to avoid sex for 7 days, and continue to use protection for a month, until such time as I could return to the doctor’s office and it could be determined that I was, in fact, sterile.

However, upon rising from my chair I saw that mild discomfort was merely the beginning. There was an odd sensation of pressure, and a distinct pain that went with movement. It was rather like a small dog had bitten my crotch, and would not let go.

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Dr. Warm Hands

Image: Cover art for The Feral Chicken of Clayton (and other essays)
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(This essay is several years old and refers to my very patient and forgiving ex-wife. Enjoy.)

THERE ARE FEW THINGS as near and dear to a man as the subject of reproduction. In particular, the tools he uses for the purpose of reproduction. We learn as boys that they are not toys to be put on display at a dinner gathering. We discover in the most alarming way that they are delicate, and the merest injury will cause a disproportionate amount of pain. The advantages of the arrangement seems dubious at best – they get in the way, are sensitive to misplacement of the undergarments, etc… what good are they, really?

This perspective is modified somewhat in the teenage years, as it is discovered that there are indeed compensations for the otherwise noted shortcomings. These bring about a new set of complications, but they are generally ignored in favor of creativity and experimentation, not unlike an artist finding a new brush who sets about painting every surface he finds. Subsequently, an alarmed property owner may take issue with his muse. We thus learn that discretion may be useful in our efforts.

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Driving Physics

Image: Cover art for The Feral Chicken of Clayton (and other essays)
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(This essay is several years old and refers to my very patient and forgiving ex-wife. Enjoy.)

I DRIVE TO WORK. Thirty-five miles is the exact distance from the end of my driveway to the driveway of my workplace. Over a period of two years, this drive took exactly 35 minutes per day, due to the speed limit over the bulk of my sojourn being 70 mph, or so I thought. I recently discovered the reason my journey took so little time. It was because of Driving Physics. I will explain.

Physics is the science of explaining why something beyond understanding happens. It succeeds, because it uses mathematics as it’s language. This leaves most people at a bit of a loss. Attempts to explain physics using a written language almost always fail, and further attempts to show why the math works ends with hurt feelings. Expressing the incomprehensible ideas of physics with math, for most people, is like taking your car to a mechanic. When you’re done, it works, but you have no idea why.

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Car Rides With In-Laws

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(Author’s Note: This essay is several years old and refers to my very patient and forgiving ex-wife and her relatives. Enjoy.)

THE OCCASION WAS AUSPICIOUS. My wife and I were to sojourn to the Great State of Arkansas, (the Natural State) spend 24 hours with her sister and said sister’s spouse. After that, we would all travel in one vehicle North, until we had reached Missouri (The Show Me State), whereupon we would spend Thanksgiving with my wife’s Father, his wife, and her 2 children. I was making efforts to try to remember the current family tree, while my spouse was determined that I would know the history of the tree as well. In addition, I had been given clear instruction not to mock or ridicule things that seemed peculiar to the region. I planned to ignore this advice, but I did not say so at the time, for I was not in the mood to defend my right to be sarcastic and ignorant as I chose.

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The Snake Charmer

Image: Snake
Coluber constrictor - The Black Racer

(Author’s Note: I am re-publishing all of my past writings here on the new Komejo.com. This essay is several years old and refers to my very patient and forgiving ex-wife. Enjoy.)

THERE ARE MANY CHORES that befall a man when he owns a house. Lawn care is traditional in this regard; there are few men who pass up the chance to wander the yard in the company of the lawnmower. In the summer, this task must be performed every two weeks or thereabouts, and it adds still more order to an otherwise well regimented existence. All men know the true meaning of a quietly rhetorical question about the state of the lawn. It means you need to hop to it, man!

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The Dishwasher Incident

Image: Cover art for The Feral Chicken of Clayton (and other essays)
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(Author’s Note: I am re-publishing all of my past writings here on the new Komejo.com. This essay is several years old and refers to my very patient and forgiving ex-wife. Enjoy.)

I CLEARLY REMEMBER the first episode in my marriage that caused dissent between my wife and myself. It was in the spring, perhaps a month or two after our blessed union, that we were in the process of cleaning the kitchen after an evening meal. I was clearing and cleaning, my beloved was rinsing and loading. After a few minutes, I began to notice certain difficulties with my wife’s method of loading the dishwasher. It became apparent to me that the entirety of the night’s dishes would not be accommodated by the limited space afforded.

Somewhere, floating in the dark recesses of my mind, is a list. This list contains the many things that I find slightly annoying, mildly irritating, and extremely bothersome. I became suddenly aware that the inefficient loading of a dishwasher was on the ‘slightly annoying’ part of the list. Being the wise and thoughtful fellow that I am, I waited until my wife had completed her activities, then made my way over to the dishwasher, and calmly analyzed the situation. Continue reading The Dishwasher Incident