Burning the midnight oils here in Tucson, I cannot help but think that the lolcat of the week accurately sums up my love affair with coffee (and now tea). Enjoy!
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In roughly 1.25hrs, I will stand at the alter of Avoca Baptist church and pledge my love, and life to Gwyn Hamrick (soon to be Fodder).
My vantage from the small window in the alcove of the church shows an absolutely perfect day with only wisps of clouds in the sky. A crane of the neck looks out at a field of green behind the church. The warmth of the sun feels a lot like the Father smiling down, and feeling pleased. It’s the kind of day made for beginning life anew.
It might seem strange to some, adding my thoughts on marriage, and life here in this space normally devoted to political wranglings, and snarky remarks.Yet in other ways writing here could not be more appropriate. This peculiar hobby of mine has been one of the few things that I have continued throughout my formative years- from college, through my time in Boston, to my days of law school down in Tucson, until now. Why not share some thoughts with an old friend?
The single thought that occupies my mind in these waning hours of my single, adult life is the notion of loyalty, and its implications. I remain convinced, now as much as ever, that love is fundamentally a commitment. We choose whom to love. And love is something borne out in life’s great struggles as the commitment to another is tested, time and time again.
I am under no delusions that love, and marriage will be an easy commitment to keep. Any commitment given proper consideration requires some quid pro quo from both parties. But in marriage, the agreement should never terminate. Given this depth and breadth of commitment, deciding whether to marry or not is among the most profound decisions one can make.
And so marriage, in many ways, is not unlike any other major decision that life brings our way. We simply make the best decision we can with the information available to us, and proceed accordingly. I am confident in my decision. I am appreciative of my betrothed for her agreement. And I am joyed at our mutual decision to love each other.
And on this we can build a life.
In sum, I love my bride to be with all of the commitment a life time can afford. My feelings on this auspicious occasion are quite serene. The wedding itself, the reception, the entire production is ancillary to the actual commitment between the two of us that this day is set to commemorate.
But, ‘to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.” (Ecclesiastes 3.1). Today is our day to love, and to laugh.
And this is good.
With the big day looming on Saturday, it was unsettling to read today’s Daily Beast article on marriage and weight gain.
According to a recent study conducted by the University of North Carolina’s School of Public Health, adults entering a long-term cohabiting relationship, particularly those who get married, are prone to higher rates of weight gain and obesity than those who remain single.
The author’s solution endorses a heavy-handed government intervention in America’s obesity problem:
So where does this leave us? Ultimately, the Obama administration should fully embrace weight control as a societal issue, and realize it is not something that can be left to individual responsibility. There are so many useful things the government could do that would make it easier, from subsidizing the right types of farming to reining in the food industry and funding health-maintenance programs at worksites.
[Link]
The prescription does not square with the ailment. Later in the article, the author notes several tips for keeping the pounds under control even after tying the knot – chief among them eating less, and exercising more. One might be tempted to call such suggestions commonsense, and personal responsibility. Although, in the age of Obama, such notions are quaint.
Even so, the warning is a good wake up call for all Americans as health care reform dominates the Nation’s political landscape. In many ways, the health problems we face are ones of our own creation. The choices we make in life, and in marriage have real, long-term consequences.
Here’s hoping the future missus and I can learn to adopt healthy habits – lest Big Brother ‘make sure’ that we do. Ja?
From a child of the 80s, to the man who defined the decade, RIP.
Beat It
by Michael Jackson
They told him don’t you ever come around here
Don’t wanna see your face, you better disappear
The fire’s in their eyes and their words are really clear
So beat it, just beat it
You better run, you better do what you can
Don’t wanna see no blood, don’t be a macho man
You wanna be tough, better do what you can
So beat it, but you wanna be bad
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
Just beat it, beat it
They’re out to get you, better leave while you can
Don’t wanna be a boy, you wanna be a man
You wanna stay alive, better do what you can
So beat it, just beat it
You have to show them that you’re really not scared
You’re playin’ with your life, this ain’t no truth or dare
They’ll kick you, then they beat you,
Then they’ll tell you it’s fair
So beat it, but you wanna be bad
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it
Beat it, beat it, beat it
Beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or who’s right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it
Beat it, beat it, beat it
Beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or who’s right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Showin’ how funky and strong is your fight
It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or right
Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it
No one wants to be defeated
Just beat it, beat it
Beat it, beat it, beat it
The performance is notable for its exercise in contrast. Ms. Boyle is the 47-year-old virgin singer who had never been kissed; who lived alone with her cat; who though homely in appearance sings with the voice of an angel. In the youtube clip of the performance, one can nigh feel the Lord Himself urging us on toward our better persons through song.
Naturally, such viral interest heightens my skepticism. For once, I am not alone. Saturday’s New York Post easily published the most cynical response to the Susan Boyle phenomenon of any major publication in the world. The Post op-ed appears in relevant part below:
Most disturbing of all, perhaps, is that not since Saturday has Susan Boyle been Susan Boyle. It’s a permutation of the Heisenberg principle: That 30 million people have heard her, seen her, embraced her has already changed who she is. The shy churchgoer who said that her recently deceased mother encouraged her to “take the risk,” who admitted in her audition that she has never been kissed, who has forever lived as something of an accidental outcast – she now seems too much of this world. “I’ve been for a meeting with Sony BMG, but I can’t say much about it,” she said this week. “It’s early days.” Susan Boyle is now one of us. And that is really a shame.
[Link]
Aside from being a bit self-flagellating, writer Maureen Callahan utterly nails the cynic’s response. Aside from the substantive change in Ms. Boyle’s life, Ms. Callahan’s larger point is that the performance would be eminently forgettable were it not for the contradictions. In other words, if Ms. Boyle were more attractive, might not we be less entranced? And, by extension, isn’t Ms. Boyle a bit overrated?
Perhaps.
Regardless, I leave you to decide. The video clip of Ms. Boyle’s performance is below. Enjoy! (Or not).
