A couple weeks ago, my wife and I were enjoying a fine summer evening on the porch of our new house (light breeze in the air, streetlights just coming on, a little red left in the western sky, neighborhood quiet and content), when my wife said, āYour columns havenāt been so great lately.ā
I nearly spilled my coffee.
Jeez, what a thing to say to a guy, I thought. And then I reminded myself that this was a benign criticism from my wife. Normally, when my writing isnāt up to par, a very different string of words (not suitable for print) comes out.
āReally,ā she said. āEver since we moved, your columns have been not as good as they used to be.ā
My ego twitched.
āHow so?ā I asked, wanting to say, Can you blame a guy? We just moved and expanded to a weekly paper. Iāve been a little distracted. Major life changes have a way of hampering creativity. She knew all this, of course, so I kept my mouth shut. And then she hit me where it hurt.
āThey havenāt been very funny.ā
Now hold the train. Not funny? Not funny? How could you say that? Iām a married man. All I have is funny to fall back on. And no matter how bad my jokes, itās your job to laugh at them. Isnāt that the unspoken credo between husbands and wives, after all?
Getting defensive now, what I also didnāt say, was moving has put me more in touch with my feminine side than Iām comfortable with. So maybe my creative side has taken a back seat. Where I formerly didnāt pay much attention to window coverings and accent pieces, Iām now saying things like, āOh, that would be cute [CUTE!] by the fireplace.ā
āAll Iām saying is Mason wrote a really good column [sheās referring to his one last edition on superstitions].ā
And the blade sinks deeper. Outshined in my wifeās eyes by my protĆ©gĆ©? And arenāt I too young to have a protĆ©gĆ©? I wanted to pick up the phone and fire Mason.
āSo what should I do?ā I asked. āMake something up so I can beat the pants off Masonās writing?ā
And since when did this become a competition between Mason and I? Of course, if I said this to her, she would have undoubtedly sighed, āMale prideā and said āIām not making it a competition. You are.ā
You bet I am.
(Sorry, Mason, but when it comes to my wifeās respect of my writing, no holds barred. Game on.)
āJust pick up the pace a bit,ā she responded.
Will do, honey. And I think you just gave me all the material I need.