Posted on March 23, 2013 under Storytelling with 3 comments

So, you want to get married?  If you are going to be married in the Catholic Church, a prerequisite is to take the marriage course.  There you will learn about the sacrament of marriage and the importance of bringing children into the world and raising them in the faith.  You learn about the keys to a successful marriage including frank discussions around finances.  But nowhere in the manual does it discuss the delicate matter of dealing with in-laws.  As someone once said, the only difference between in laws and outlaws is that outlaws are wanted.

Let me preface my remarks, and make it abundantly clear, that I have a wonderful extended family on both sides.  Some may be over-extended from time to time … in more ways than one!

I have personally counselled many young men as they are about to take their vow of poverty by marrying a woman who loves to shop.  When you are standing on the altar and the priest asks you if you will honor and obey, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad, look your bride directly in the eyes.  Do not utter that tired refrain “I do”.  Instead, get in the habit right off the bat and say “yes dear”.  This will avoid years of misery and countless confrontations.

Mothers in-law, undeservedly, take the brunt of many cruel jabs.  Just the other day I was having lunch with a buddy of mine.  Let’s just say that his relationship with his mother in law is “somewhat strained”, which is like saying that Pope Francis is somewhat Catholic.  He and his wife were visiting her mother recently when she suddenly and unexpectedly, right out of the blue, announced that she wished to be cremated.  With a wry grin on his face my buddy looked at her and said, “Alright, get your coat”.

Inevitably young married couples will have their first major fight; something that the marriage course would have dealt with in length.  I recently heard about a couple who had a significant blowout.  The marriage course instructor had emphasized this principle; “Don’t go to bed angry with the conflict unresolved”.  Still steaming mad, the couple decided that a drive in the country might release some pressure. Nary was a word spoken until they passed a farm.  Beyond the fence was a pig sty and inside were six large sows.  With just a touch of sarcasm the man asked his wife, “Are those relatives of yours?”  Without blinking an eye came the reply; “Yes, they’re my in-laws.”

Let’s face it.  When you get married, you inherit a new family.  I have been blessed and enjoy the company of my unwieldy clan.  We continue to celebrate milestones together.  Others might call them millstones.

By and large, we are quite fortunate to live in a monogamous society.  We are all well aware of the punishment for bigamy… two mothers in-law.

Posted on March 22, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

It sure doesn’t look like Spring this Friday morning in Antigonish. It is snowing and the wind is causing some serious drifting… perfect weather for story writing.

I went for my bi-weekly story exchange last night with the seniors and picked up some great story ideas. I think it is time to do something on the whole notion of in-laws. That is a topic fraught with danger.

I am happy to report that I have been offered another regular writing spot in a weekly paper, this time in Alberta. I taught school in Fairview, Alberta from 1976-79. Their local paper, The Fairview Post will start publishing my stories next week. This will be a lot of fun as I have plenty of material from my time in this wonderful German-Ukranian farming community.

Have a good Friday!

Posted on March 20, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

The Snowbirds are heading south and it is March Break. That means gathering up summer wear including a bathing suit. And if your spouse doesn’t have something modern, it may require a shopping trip. When is the last time you took your life into your own hands and agreed to go bathing suit shopping with your wife?

So you want a stern test of your marriage vows? Agree to assist your wife in picking out the perfect bathing suit. The first obstacle for a man is to actually walk through the ladies garment section of the store. Make sure that your wife is practically attached to your shoulder,  otherwise you will get the “stares”. You just know what the other women are thinking,  “ What is that peeping Tom doing here?”

When is it acceptable to tell a bold face lie? I can’t think of too many situations where lying gets you anywhere in life. Lying is totally acceptable, no mandatory, when your wife asks you  “ how does this bathing suit look on me dear? Is it slimming?” Talk about a loaded question. What is the appropriate response? If you have been married for fifty years and have a terminal illness you might get away with just a hint of honesty. “ The color doesn’t quite suit you dear”. This is code for “ I can’t believe that you had the audacity to try that one on. “

It takes time to get the perfect match of style and comfort and this sometimes requires several, even dozens, of showings. I cannot think of many places more uncomfortable than the area around the women’s change room. What in the hell do you do when your wife is actually switching from one bathing suit to the next? I have discovered that staring at your feet is the safest thing to do. Better to be thought a stunned idiot by the other women passing by, than a leering pervert.

As sure as a bad flu eventually runs its course, the bathing suit war mercifully ends and the treasured garment is brought to the checkout – another heart palpitating exercise because you just know that your wife and the sales clerk are going to discuss the purchase… in detail. Finally, you have been granted bail for good behaviour and you return to your man cave to watch a football game. You have just settled in with a cold beer and a bag of perfectly salted chips when your wife appears in the doorway. It appears that she has been crying and you wonder if there has been a death in the family ( her mother, maybe? ) or if one of the pets has gone missing. “What is wrong, dear?” “ I look awful in this stupid bathing suit. Would you mind taking me back to the store?”

Just then, I hear thunder and lightning in the background. I grab a five iron out of my golf bag and stand in the back yard with the club held towards the sky.