Monday, February 13, 2006
Comfort in mutual misery
Last week is best described as frustrating. No real reason, or maybe a thousand little things all hung over me like the grey smog this city wears in winter, which smells like exhaust and soft coal and results in chronic fatigue, low-grade headaches and a perpetual sore throat and runny nose.
In any case, to assuage my midwinter blahs, I went to see some old friends, who've fallen out of the loop due to signing on to the 'maminka brigada'.
So on Friday I went to spend the night with my friend, a first-time mommy with a five-month-old daughter. That's about as young as I can handle them, any smaller and I feel sort of the way I feel when I've handed a live carp--hold too strongly and you'll sqush it, not strongly enough and the thing will flop out of your hands when you least expect it.
Luckily she was on her best behavior. She cooed and played and was generally pleasant and then slept while her mother and I caught up.
Of course, cooped up in the house all winter with a baby, while her partner is off at the cottage every weekend tending to the sheep they have. (I should add here that my friend at no point encouraged her mate to take on a flock of 150 or so sheep. But as a mid-life crisis remedy, I suppose it's better than getting a red sports car or joining a cover band.)
He was also in the dog house as far as my friend was concerned. At a critical moment in her life, the death of a grandmother, the partner went AWOL on the relationship. Instead of comforting his mate, he attended a previously scheduled engagement--a musical concert, followed by substantial beer consumption at the pub.
Does this mean he doesn't lover her? Of course not, which my friend is quick to admit. And granny had been out of it for a long time, so her death came more as a relief than a shock. This my friend also freely admits. But shoulda been there.
Another friend tells me a similar story. Her birthday is coming up. She wants him to take her to dinner. He wants to go to a previously scheduled concert. She doesn't ask him to take her to dinner, because, again, it's not the point, she says. "He's got to want to take me to dinner", she tells me. "If I ask him, it won't be the same."
The biggest sin a man can commit is to not recognise when your partner needs you and fail to take the appropriate innitiative. Both these men will likely feel the repercussions of their undone deeds for much longer than a simple dinner.
Not all my friends have such high expectations for their men. I call another member of the Maminka brigada. Her husband hasn't made it home from the previous night's partying. It's 11 a.m. The next day. Angry? No, she says, he called and told her he was crashing with some friends. Partied too hard to get home.
She just shrugs her shoulders and pulls out the couch to clean. The one he's usually parked on this time of day.
After a weekend hearing such negativity, you'd think I'd be ready to slice my wrists myself. Actually, quite the opposite. I felt great.
I've finally recognised a fundament of Mitteleuropa thought: The best way to crawl your way out of misery is to hear about the misery of others. For years I never got the myriad jokes that played upon this theme. Today, I'm laughing.
In any case, to assuage my midwinter blahs, I went to see some old friends, who've fallen out of the loop due to signing on to the 'maminka brigada'.
So on Friday I went to spend the night with my friend, a first-time mommy with a five-month-old daughter. That's about as young as I can handle them, any smaller and I feel sort of the way I feel when I've handed a live carp--hold too strongly and you'll sqush it, not strongly enough and the thing will flop out of your hands when you least expect it.
Luckily she was on her best behavior. She cooed and played and was generally pleasant and then slept while her mother and I caught up.
Of course, cooped up in the house all winter with a baby, while her partner is off at the cottage every weekend tending to the sheep they have. (I should add here that my friend at no point encouraged her mate to take on a flock of 150 or so sheep. But as a mid-life crisis remedy, I suppose it's better than getting a red sports car or joining a cover band.)
He was also in the dog house as far as my friend was concerned. At a critical moment in her life, the death of a grandmother, the partner went AWOL on the relationship. Instead of comforting his mate, he attended a previously scheduled engagement--a musical concert, followed by substantial beer consumption at the pub.
Does this mean he doesn't lover her? Of course not, which my friend is quick to admit. And granny had been out of it for a long time, so her death came more as a relief than a shock. This my friend also freely admits. But shoulda been there.
Another friend tells me a similar story. Her birthday is coming up. She wants him to take her to dinner. He wants to go to a previously scheduled concert. She doesn't ask him to take her to dinner, because, again, it's not the point, she says. "He's got to want to take me to dinner", she tells me. "If I ask him, it won't be the same."
The biggest sin a man can commit is to not recognise when your partner needs you and fail to take the appropriate innitiative. Both these men will likely feel the repercussions of their undone deeds for much longer than a simple dinner.
Not all my friends have such high expectations for their men. I call another member of the Maminka brigada. Her husband hasn't made it home from the previous night's partying. It's 11 a.m. The next day. Angry? No, she says, he called and told her he was crashing with some friends. Partied too hard to get home.
She just shrugs her shoulders and pulls out the couch to clean. The one he's usually parked on this time of day.
After a weekend hearing such negativity, you'd think I'd be ready to slice my wrists myself. Actually, quite the opposite. I felt great.
I've finally recognised a fundament of Mitteleuropa thought: The best way to crawl your way out of misery is to hear about the misery of others. For years I never got the myriad jokes that played upon this theme. Today, I'm laughing.
# posted by VMH @ 1:54 PM 
