A Line in the Sand Photography By Anne
One subject. Two opinions.
The Blame
Game
Barry Kaufman
T
he other day, bored out of my skull due to the endless lull between NHL playoffs and pre-season football, I started thinking about my two great loves: monster trucks and barbecued pork. In that vein, I’ve decided to go off-script and spend the remainder of this column talking about how great both are, with extensive sidebars on proper
techniques for reeling in a bass, the implications of changes to Major League Baseball’s home-plate rules, why Hooters has the best cuisine and why I think Schwarzenegger should have won at least one Oscar by now (for Predator, naturally). Okay. I can’t imagine that any women are reading
this column past that paragraph. Gentlemen, our time is short, so read the following carefully. I’m told this is the bridal issue, so odds are good if you’ve picked this up you’re in the process of planning a wedding. (I’m kidding, of course; if you are the groom you have no involvement with the planning whatsoever. Just look busy). Congratulations on your upcoming nuptials and I wish you the best. But marriage is not an undertaking for the ill-prepared, and you do not want to enter into the binding and eternal contract of marriage without knowing the following immutable, unbreakable rule of marriage: If you want a happy marriage, after your wedding day, and for the rest of your life, know this: everything
Courtney Hampson
S
o, I’m watching an episode of House Hunters on HGTV, and the very lovely (if not odd) couple is looking for a house in Nashville that can accommodate— wait for it—his two pet turtles. Turtles being so large and unruly, this sounds like a real challenge. Luckily their made-for-TV realtor was nicer than I and helped them find just what they needed. As the couple settled into their new house, and splish-splashed in their spa tub (no joke) with the turtles, the husband shared, “I’m not working right now, but I do have hobbies.” When their relationship ends, I think we can safely blame this one on that guy. Barry tells me that National Blame Someone Else Day is June 13. Alas! As you can imagine, I am as
anxious as ever to celebrate this holiday which could likely edge out National Margarita Day as my favorite. But then buzz-killBarry ruined it for me when he suggested that we take it on the chin and talk about the things that are our fault. Whoa. Slow down buddy. I’m going to have to rack my brain to come up with something on topic. June being the wedding issue, I volleyed back with a gentle, “How about we write about things we can blame on our spouses?” Being the gentleman and teddy bear that he is, Barry didn’t feel comfortable complaining about his wife in print. Hold on to this guy Meghan, you’ve got a winner! So here we are. Since I’ve never actually been wrong,