Many happy returns

By Mike Thomas
Restless Native

Published in The Orlando Sentinel, May 10, 1998

I am celebrating the first anniversary of my first marriage.

If you want to send a gift, it must be valued under $5 to comply with the Sentinel ethics policy. However, I think this can be loosely interpreted to mean wholesale value.

So whereas a Gator Barbie may retail for $20, she only cost Target $5, making her a legal conveyance.

Furthermore ...

``I can't believe this,'' says my wife, whose name is Laurie. ``You actually are groveling for gifts from strangers!''

Well, I think I have earned them because now I am a shining beacon for all women to point to when their boyfriends say: ``I love you, but I'm not the marrying kind.''

The woman can now respond: ``Well, that guy who writes about the cat got married, and he was a bachelor for 40 years!''

And now he's been married for one full year.

That is no small accomplishment because the first year is the most difficult. That is when a man must adapt his orderly lifestyle to accommodate a woman who wants to toss all his expensive camping gear out of the bedroom closet and into the garage, where it will rot and grow fungus.

``I don't think this is an accurate representation of the facts,'' says Laurie, who keeps her ice skates hanging in the garage despite the fact that Lake Eola has not frozen over in 15 million years.

``Of course, we won't mention all your cave-diving stuff piled up in the second bedroom, making it completely unusable,'' she says.

It is being used. For storage.

As you can see, we are like two spoons in a silverware tray.

You ladies now can hand this column over to the guy you want to marry and I'll talk to him man to man. Please leave the room.

Let me just begin by saying this, my former fellow bachelor. I once thought I'd never get married. I thought I was too set in my ways to accommodate major lifestyle changes, such as a large, obnoxious cat that sits on my head at 6 a.m. because he wants food but won't wake up his real owner.

But it's not so bad.

Humans have adapted to living in tropical jungles, living in the arctic wilderness, even living in space.

So we can adapt to women, even if biologically we were designed to hang out together in the back of the cave, watching Gator football, only seeking out females for sex.

That said, let me give you a few pros and cons to consider:

Pro: It is nice to have someone who loves you besides yourself.

Con: You worry all the time. You worry when you see news stories about psycho killers and rapists. You worry about going on a business trip and leaving your wife alone. Lots and lots of worry.

Pro: Marriage brings stability.

Con: Stability is boring.

Pro: It is nice after getting home from a long weekend bike ride to have someone there who has made coffee and bought bagels.

Con: Sometimes when you get home from a long weekend bike ride, it is nice to toss your dirty clothes on the floor, grab a beer, turn on the Tampa Bay Bucs and crash out on the couch the rest of the day.

Pro: When you make a delicious beef stew with crusty rustic bread, it's nice to have someone to share it with so you don't have to form a mouth with your thumb and forefinger and say in a high-pitched voice: This is simply delicious!

Con: You can't read the sports page during dinner.

Pro: Sex.

Con: But not with that one over there!

Pro: When you go on vacation, you don't have to choose between paying a singles surcharge and sharing your room with a Cleveland postal worker.

Con: What you save on the surcharge, you'll lose in the antique shops.

Pro: Women can take a crash pad and transform it into an actual home with furniture, paintings on the wall, flowers in front of the fireplace and so on.

Con: When a woman's stuff is brought into a two-bedroom, one-bath house, it occupies cubic feet that could be taken up by your stuff. This puts a finite limit on toy acquisition.

Pro: You learn how to quit being so selfish.

Con: But I don't want to share.

Pro: A new family.

Con: In-laws.

Pro: Your friends' wives will quit trying to fix you up with their friends from the Junior League.

Con: You can't just pick up and move to Montana.

``Montana?'' says Laurie, who is eavesdropping over my shoulder. ``Where did that come from?''

Well, it was nice having that as an option.

``But you never mentioned wanting to go to Montana,'' she says.

I don't want to go to Montana, but it is nice to have the option.

This is called the Montana Factor and actually is the reason most single men don't want to get married. It will prevent them from doing all the things that they'd never do anyway. Like sleeping with 100 women. Or quitting their jobs and traveling around the world.

``So what is your Montana Factor?'' Laurie asks.

Chris Evert.

``And you gave her up for me?''

Yes, and I have no regrets.

And here is why: The happiest people I have ever seen -- and I do study people closely -- are those older couples who have lived a lifetime together and still hold hands and laugh at each other's jokes. They are happier than rich people, happier than people who have lots of toys, happier than people who have moved to Montana.

It will be nice to be one of those people.

Mike Thomas is a writer for Florida magazine. You can send him e-mail at resnative@aol.com