There's a worm in the best of apples

Today, We Honor The Overall Man Classic Bill Mead

Reprinted with permission from Tehachapi Lifestyle Magazine, February 2013 issue.

My wife and I have been married just short of 36 years. When I thought deeply about that the other day I was astonished to realize how few big league arguments we have had. Even more amazing -according to what I read about our violent society- is the fact we have never engaged in what you could call a real knock-down-drag-out. Her only black eye came when one of the babies reared up on her lap.

(I won't dwell on the time she lobbed a shoe in my direction. She insists it slipped out of her hand while she was putting it in the closet. It's her word against mine and most people think hers is better.)

Those who know us well no doubt will attribute this serenity to my wife alone. It's true she seems to have been born without a hint of hostility in her soul. But let's don't overlook the fact that I'm not a natural fighter, either. I prefer to talk things out. Not everybody sees that as a plus. Considering the tediousness of my conversation at times, I'm sure there have been occasions when my wife would have preferred a punch in the snoot simply to get the agony over with.

I will be the first to admit that despite our rejection of fisticuffs as a lifestyle, my wife and I have never been confused with Ozzie and Harriet, either. We both have grinding little habits that irk the other, although I think I'm doing much better than she is in rising above them.

According to my wife, my worst one is acting like I'm not paying attention to her. She gets testy every time I slip into a thousand yard stare as she tries to improve my awareness. I don't know why she fails to see that I have not ignored her comments in more than 20 years, not since she proposed buying a diamond encrusted washer/dryer set and I mumbled approval without knowing what she said.

I listen raptly to everything she says now, even though she often makes it difficult. Her most maddening quirk is to turn her head slightly when she speaks. I can tell she said something but not always what. I suspect she knows how thoroughly this annoys me, particularly in the car. She never fails to apologize for it. Then she does it again.

It always puts me in a bad light. If I holler at her to speak up,I come off looking like a beast. If I don't yell, I never can be sure she didn't announce the forthcoming expenditure of big bucks and was taking my lack of response for approval.

It may be she's getting back at me for forgotten sins but I can't understand why. I quit eating crackers in bed years ago.!...

[Publisher's note: Bill Mead, known professionally as a columnist and former publisher of the Tehachapi News, and privately as a great family man, died at the age of 80 in 2008. His granddaughter Nikki Cummings reprinted his column in her Tehachapi Lifestyle Magazine. The Loop has been granted permission to also reprint his articles in our newspaper.

I read Bill's articles during the 80s and 90s and I am grateful to share them now with our current readers. I hope you enjoy this touch of nostalgia as much as I do.]