Today Isn't Anything Important
I am sure that most of you have noticed by now that Gretch doesn't blog. It was her idea to make this blog, although I am certain it was stolen from our many recently-married friends who were joint-blogging. But she says she just doesn't blog much. This is true. When she had to blog for her classes at Parkland, she created the blog and made all of the entries over a weekend, then posted them once a week.
So the responsibility of blogging for us both has been left to me. Unfortunately for Gretch, this means that I have free reign on what I want to write about, and you are all stuck reading it, if you so choose. I assume, however, that lots of folks just ignore the blog, or they see the titles (especially if they are relevant to current news and political currents) and then move on. But the thing is, Gretch told me that this blog is supposed to be about us. For me, that means it is about the things that interest us. I am deeply interested in the world around me, and, after growing up in a home where we discussed politics, philosophy, and religion at the dinner table, it should be no surprise that these topics are of major interest to me. Gretch does not care for these things. She is, thanks in large part to her father, politically apathetic, although, in moments of weakness, she has held her own on ranting about politics. And I have even caught her watch the Fox News Channel alone. So maybe she's just sporadically interested (much as her father is, although I am sure he'll deny it).
One of the many, many, many things I love about my wife is that she loves me enough to put up with my quirks, my interests, and, yes, my borderline obsessive-compulsiveness. She may enjoy torturing me by referring to my letter openers as "knives" (letter openers are as much knives as Snoopy is an insurance salesman), and she laughs at my OCness. But she supports me in all I do. And I support her in all she does. Even if I tease her about the piles of unfinished artwork in the basement, and poke fun of her disinclination to read two or three books a month like I do (at a minimum), I still love her and I still support her.
Which is why, for her birthday, I took it upon myself to find some nice frames for her painting that were hanging in the basement. And for my birthday, she bought me a toolbox, so that my tools are no longer in an ungainly pile at the bottom of the basement stairs. Yes, my birthday isn't until this Tuesday, and her birthday isn't until this Thursday. We both got our presents earlier. I actually picked out my tool box, after at trip to Rural King, which is now on my list of favourite stores. I was planning on waiting until Thursday to give Gretch her gifts, except I forgot to toss the cardboard boxes for the frames, and she saw them on the dining room table. (They were all ripped up, otherwise I would have reused them.)
I'll leave you with a quote from John Crawford:
"The spice [of marriage] is having someone you trust to put up with your quirks and having the joy of putting up with another's. The spice is getting to be a part of someone else's plan without feeling or being used. The spice is giving oneself over to another, taking the risk of intimacy and having it work out."
Today isn't anything important. It isn't my birthday, her birthday, our first anniversary or our second anniversary. It isn't Valentine's Day or Sweetest Day or Non-Denominational Capitalist Gift-Giving Day. It is just Saturday, 23 January 2010. We are going to dinner tonight with the members of our bishopric, and we may be having a photo shoot this afternoon, since Gretch's friend Hannah loves taking our pictures. Today is just one of those many days in which I woke up hours before Gretch. And on this 582nd day of marriage, I am glad that the spice is still there.
Comments
I think that your apathy is borne of a jaded cynicism. Your comments here and elsewhere indicate an interest in the topic, yet a general feeling of helplessness is affecting any type of real change. Therefore you have taught your children to not even care, because by not caring, they cannot get hurt. Bear in mind this is only in reference to this topic.
What good does it do to care? Dare I invoke the cliche of the boy tossing starfish into the sea? I dast. It may not change the world. Heck, it may not change your town. But it can change one person's life. Politics is not just talking points coming from pundits and elected people. Politics are the world of interaction. One-on-one, one-on-many, many-on-one, and many-on-many. Politics are how we understand one another, they are how we understand the world in which we live.
Your apathy is not an apathy toward politics. It is an apathy toward the democratic republic process of electing leaders that exists within our cities, states, and communities. I can understand your jadedness here. But so long as men, women, and children care about themselves and others, politics will exist, and they will exist for both good and evil at the same time.