The Prophecy has been fulfilled!
I am often amazed by how we all draw motivation and positive outlooks from any situation. My dear sweet wife will notice shooting starts, double rainbows, and more Hallmark Channel-type signs On the other hand, I see motivation in dead squirrels on the road. Right or left, zig or zag, any decision would have been better than no decision. When I am unsure what to do or what path to take, I have to remember the squirrel that couldn't make up its mind. The wrong choice is often better than no choice. Indecision can be deadly and, at the very least unproductive.
My darling wife can often look at world events with empathy and sorrow. Yes, there is suffering and pain throughout the world with no hope of improvement for generations. However, what breaks my heart is seeing someone buy a zucchini at a farmer's market. They must indeed be without a friend if they are paying money for a zucchini. There is always a glut of those delicious squash during the summer months. It seems all you have to do is make eye contact with anyone that gardens, and your porch is loaded with zucchinis if you leave the house for a minute. Spending good money on a zucchini signifies true loneliness.
Another difference is when my beautiful wife looks at another woman and says the dreaded, "I wish I were built like her." Not once have I or I assume any other man thought that, let alone spoken that thought aloud. My opinion is I am a lucky man because I haven't wasted time or money on a haircut for years; that poor soul with a full head of hair has to waste time and money cutting that flowing mane of locks every few weeks. When I see a man who is almost a foot taller than me, I think, I bet he hits his head a lot. As for the body type my wife desires, I think she is insane. The best roads to travel have some curves. I can't say I have ever enjoyed a drive that was all straight roads the entire trip. As incredible as it seems to have a body that looks like you spend hours every day at the gym, chances are it requires hours a day at a gym.
In and of itself, spending hours at the gym would not be a bad thing if it just stopped at the gym. However, it would not. That level of commitment does not simply stop at the doors of the workout facility. It becomes a lifestyle. A cookie-free, low-calorie, carb-counting lifestyle. Did I mention the best part of zucchinis is when they are fried in lard? I could never forgive Little Miss Workout for taking away such a simple pleasure. On top of it all, you never know if it will be a harsh winter. Historically, low body fat means a higher chance of freezing to death. Let us not roll the dice. In my book, my wife, with her curves, is perfection.
Another difference between myself and my lovely wife is that I am no longer surprised that whatever I enjoy must be improved upon as a gift. I enjoy cheap—something not bitter and from "Swisherland." I would go as far as calling them Swisher Sweets. My missus has her mind made up that if I like cheap cigars, I would undoubtedly love fancy cigars: two different animals, my dear. As sure as Christmas is coming, I can expect to hear antismoking propaganda from the said gift giver within a month of being gifted the cigar of the month club. The ever-trendy IPAs will never replace a PBR. If we were to really go all out, I could tolerate "the champagne of beer," but that's as far as my fancy tastes can go. I know for a fact that if my wife enjoys something, she will enjoy the same thing, only with higher quality. As delightful as it would be to have a smooth ride in a Cadillac, I have been accustomed to bouncing around in an old Chevy. I like the old Chevy. The old Chevy is safe, familiar, and reliable. A fancy dry table wine will never have a chance of replacing a bottle of Two Buck Chuck in my simple world.
Entertainment is another difference between the two of us. If I had a nickel for every time I heard, "I'm so glad you entertain yourself," my working days would be behind me. Tina likes to ignore or just hang up on telemarketers. I challenge myself to waste their time. I know that everyone needs a job, and they are supporting themselves and possibly a family. However, they started it. I hit every button on the robocalls until I talk to a live human being. I answer with everything they want to hear minus the personal information, of course. But in this day and age, if you don't know, your time is wasted when talking to "Henry Winkler," shame on you. I challenge myself to get to move up to speak to a manager or supervisor and am not satisfied until they either ask if I am wasting their time or hang up. Apparently, there is no extended warranty for your car that covers a 1972 Nova or the brand new Bently; you know, the awesome one when asked for its make and model. Also, term life insurance has no time for you when you don't want to buy for yourself, but rather for someone that would statistically stand a better chance of dying sooner so you can enjoy the payout. The solar panel people don't have a response if you question the adverse results of bird poop. There are a lot of birds in these parts, you know. There isn't a charity out there that can answer the simple question of what percentage actually goes to the cause. Making myself unpopular with the telemarketing community is my favorite form of entertainment. My dear wife just rolls her eyes and walks away.
Until next month, remember that happiness is a journey best enjoyed on a curvy road, not a destination on the straight road to the gym. Everyone wants to save the white rhino unless a white rhino is constantly trampling your village. We all have different perspectives on life, but having the proper perspective by your side makes all the difference.