The “N” word

Tired Date #1

An Open Letter to my wife on the first day of February:

Dear Wife,

It sounds silly, even sophomoric, but when I walk into Walgreens this time of year and see aisle after aisle of cellophane wrapped hearts and cheap stuffed animals and cupid embossed cards I immediately think of you. Naked.

Believe me, it’s a burden! I mean, to carry THAT around all day, or at least every eight seconds? It’s amazing we men have accomplished anything worthy of high ideals; the wheel, a polio vaccine, TOMS shoes, the ShamWow.  I know you are shaking your head right now, rolling your eyes, hoping to GOD your mother doesn’t read this, but I am just keeping it real, and your mom has to appreciate that.  Her son-in-law is honest.  By the end of this open letter, she might even wipe away a tear because of my literary sweetness. So anyway, Walgreens in February, Valentine’s Day, and you naked…(that’s the last time I am going to write that, I promise.) (Sorry Gran.)

See Honey, this letter is to tell you that I am exactly the heel you think I am, but there is another side of me, and it is the stronger of the two. Yes, the reason Madison Avenue and Hollywood draw a bull’s eye around my middle-age male reptilian brain is because I, or better yet, we, collectively, middle-aged married males, are sitting ducks oh so prone to wander after the prurient carrot dangled before our eyes or loins.  It’s true.  It’s in our DNA.  Every where we turn, there it is, something to make us think of nudity or a derivative thereof; yours, or anyone else’s that we can be tempted to fixate upon.

But I am not telling you anything you don’t already know, am I? And it is at this point I probably need to cease speaking for my middle-aged married brethren.  I’ll let them woo their own wives, or die trying.  The rest of this letter is just for you, and your mother if she is still reading.  As much as I am the totality of my component physical parts, I am more.  I am a redeemed soul.  The part of me that exists before and after my physicality, my soul, loves you.  Read that again.  My soul loves you.

And the “N” word, the part of our relationship that seems to trump when Valentine’s Day rolls around, is a force all its own. It is amazing what that drive is capable of.  And it is good. And I remain faithfully yours.  Thank you for giving me that joy in our marriage. And know this, after twenty-three years of marriage, as strong as that Walgreens dude is he plays second chair to my soul.  I love you more than I lust you.

When I was asleep in the hospital those twelve October days, I didn’t see a light, or walk toward a tunnel, or even float, although I would have preferred ethereal flight to scenarios of imprisonment and bondage, but I wasn’t that lucky.  In my unconsciousness, I was locked away.  The common denominator to all my comatose musings was a complete and total frustrated lunge to make my way to you.

Which I suppose is what we are still trying to do this year on our dates…make our way to each other.

Even though Jesus never battled lust when he was picking up a prescription for his high cholesterol, he named demons, called them out, and put them in their place.  Maybe it is no coincidence he cast some into swine.  All men are pigs it has been said, but there is always redemption.  Which brings me back to my soul that loves you.

My soul is available for a date on February 24th.  There is a cooking class we can attend at the Fleur De Lys Home Culinary Institute.  And the cool thing, my body will be with me the whole time.  Interested?

17 thoughts on “The “N” word

  1. The N-word? I didn’t know you could use that anymore. Ain’t it against the law or something? You have really got to love somebody to use the N-word to them…. Word pictures, Awh, I love word pictures. “the reason Madison Avenue and Hollywood draw a bull’s eye around my middle-age male reptilian brain is because I, or better yet, we, collectively, middle-aged married males, are sitting ducks oh so prone to wander after the prurient carrot dangled before our eyes or loins. It’s true. It’s in our DNA. Every where we turn, there it is, something to make us think of nudity or a derivative thereof; yours, or anyone else’s that we can be tempted to fixate upon.”

    What is a derivative of nudity? The N-word?

    I must say, Kevin Roberts is Dick Roberts with a Vanderbilt degree:)

    • Luther, that is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me. Now to answer your question about a derivative of nudity, I think it is considered a fruit of the spirit. I think. Yeah, I just read a concordance. That’s it.

  2. When I first heard the October story in person I knew there was something special about you two. But even in Walgreen’s, really?

  3. Well the “N” word is a little wired to be using in front of your mother-in-law. She and your three children are likely reacting the way to react when I mention something of the intimacy I share with your sister. Your reaction is always amusing to me as you quickly revert to Jr. Higher and say, “yuck, I can’t go there!”

    Well so now that it’s out there…instead of picturing your sister and me as consenting adults married with two kids in some kind of marital bliss, you can always just picture me naked, that should suffice!

    Love you guys!!

  4. I just don’t know how to comment on this, but feel that I should say something…..WOW!!! This was so sobering yet so sweet at the same time….and most postively true!!! Thanks for sharing Alyson!!!

  5. Someday some big dude whom Kevin has never met is going to come up to Kevin and beat the snot of him. When he done he Kevin is going to look up through glassy, swollen eyes and he will croak a single word “why”? That big dude is going to look down at Kevin with fury and say “my soul loves you? Are you freaking kidding me? How the hell am I supposed to get by giving my wife a chocolate fish that says “you’re a keeper” for valentine’s day when you go around telling your wife something as deep and profound as that? To top it off you publish it on the internet and it goes viral so that every wife of a middle aged man sighs in wonder and looks at her husband waiting for a spontaneous outburst of affection and wit. the husband of course will have no idea of the Mack Truck of emotions that is about to be unknowingly unleashed upon him like that kid “Schwartz” in the movie a Christmas Story. His response will have been “whats for dinner? or “while you’re down there…” The rest of course is already written in the book of torture for the poor man. When that happened to me I vowed to hunt down the man who set the bar so high by having the strength of character to bare his soul in such a distinct yet compelling way. To express to his wife his love in a way I wished I could have done. So I am lashing out in the way that normal men do and I beat you with my fists. Seems only right. Sorry about that.”

    Thanks for setting the bar so high Kevin. I can totally relate to this and “wish I had wrote that”.

    Charley

    • Charley, you could have totally written this. And given all the things we have laughed about over the years, I know you have had the same thoughts. But please don’t kick my ass. Elizabeth actually told me all she wants from you this Valentine’s Day is a chocolate fish that says, “spawn me,” so you are in luck.

  6. WOW…I was worreid in the beginning, but as always, you brought it around in the end! You are a VERY lucky Lady, Alyson!

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