Memphis instead

I went to a spiritual awakening conference and ended up in Memphis instead.

Now I have absolutely nothing against Memphis, nothing! It is a beautiful city and some of the best ribs I have ever tasted. I wore several away on my shirt.

Now, it wasn't just that I ended up in Memphis, I ended up in front of Elvis's house( or as some of us like to think "the house formerly occupied by Elvis"). And I was not alone. I was with about 300 other kooks--yes, I would classify myself as a kook for being talked into going to Graceland. Judging from the crowd there were at least two different groups at Graceland, some staring through the fence. First, there were those older women who were in the audience years ago swooning over Elvis when he would sing and shake his hips. These women have since grown old, but they have not let the fire of devotion die for Elvis.

The other group I noticed were husbands humoring their wives. You could see the glazed look on their face, the smirk that sometimes passed between one knowing man and another, and the camera in the relaxed position. These men had been dragged against their will to Graceland to see the sacred place where Elvis lived. By the look on some of the husband's faces, it was a good thing Elvis was already dead. They had murder on their minds.

Middle aged men have a rather curious place in modern America. The guys I know have been married long enough to know certain things. I call them survival skills for the jungle of marriage. What are those skills, you ask? Are they skills you might need to know and practice? Well, I don't know but after 34 years, I know they work for me.

I have learned that sometimes the pants aren't worth fighting over. Who wears them is immaterial. The man who brags that "he wears the pants in his family" is delusional and is married to a very sly wife. Unless you are a part of the YFZ compound, women have gone to this secret school where they learn to get their way and make us think it is our idea. Now, I just accept that and take credit when things go well.

I have learned the wonderful value of an enduring phrase, "I'm sorry, I'm stupid." Now, you may think this is horrible to say, but the truth is your wife already believes this about you. When you say these magical words, every thing begins to be set right. The world returns to its natural orbit, and you go on with your pathetic life. In addition, this confession endears you to your bride. She doesn't think less of you, in fact, she thinks more of you because you finally understand your limitations.

I have also learned the value of division of labor. When we are traveling, and we do that (unfortunately) quite often, we have arrived at an understanding that is both trend setting and in way, self evident. When we are lost, and my wife realizes we are lost, and alerts me to what I have been trying to deny for the last four hours, then we stop and she goes and asks for directions. This is great!

When we were dumped in the town square of Bergen, Norway with only our luggage and the name of our hotel, I was clueless as to which way to proceed except that at that point any road led to "more lost." Foreign country, foreign language, strange city, heavy luggage, streets running everywhere, what was one to do? My wife agreed to go into this swanky hotel(obviously not ours) and ask for directions to our not so swanky hotel. Five minutes later, we were looking up at our place for the night. Wife happy, Mikey happy, problem solved.

I don't know if most husbands realize this or not about their wives, but most of them have a real soft spot for hopeless cases, lost animals, wounded pets, and generally the helpless. The more helpless the better. Now some women take this nurturing to the extreme and actually marry helpless, lazy, useless men. However, I am not talking about that population.

Rather I am speaking of the hardworking, hard charging, get things done kind of guy. Sometimes, you just need to slow down, be lost and helpless, and let your wife come to the rescue.

That can be a real turn on!