Oops

In a comment yesterday I thanked Rodger and Laura for their kind words, sent to me via Yahoo, blaming technical difficulties for their inability to post here directly; I said Blogger was just "in one of its moods." Turns out Alyssa was just being lame-brained. Apparently I set up the blog so that only registered users could comment. I've fixed that now. At least I hope I have. Let's also hope that I remain able to write things that strike readers as worthy of comment in the first place!

Bear with me, please. Clearly I'm new at this.

Let me tell you a love story

When I read not long ago that the divorce rate for people who got married after meeting on Match.com was at least as bad as the rate overall, I thought first of my Grandma Lena. She died of cancer two years ago, and undoubtedly would die again of embarrassment if she read what I’m about to tell you. Grandma Lena met the only man she would ever sleep with on a blind date. That was my Grandpa Hal. They both agreed it was “love at first sight.” They married two months later and consummated their love on the wedding night. They stayed married for 51 years till Grandpa Hal died. I didn’t know them the whole time, of course, but in the time I did know them, I hardly ever saw either of them without a big smile on their faces. Grandpa Hal called Grandma Lena “my bride” till his dying day. I mean that literally. On his deathbed he told my father to “please take care of my bride.” After he died, Grandma Lena continued to draw strength and comfort from their love until she herself died. I repeat, they met on a blind date, and got married two months later.

In contrast, my generation has every modern diagnostic advantage at its disposal. We take computerized compatibility tests; if we’re really over the top, we can order background checks and credit reports. We Google previous girlfriends to supplement our knowledge of the new man in our life. Though we’re way too sophisticated to talk seriously about “love at first sight,” we’re often having sex from that very first date (yes, girls, oral either way counts as sex). We have a base of other lovers to compare that experience to. We date for three years, live together for two more years, and then finally get married. Four years later we get divorced. Or, since neither party wants to just throw away something as sacred as a marriage, one or both of us start cheating. We don’t smile nearly as often as my grandparents. For all we know, we may be destined to repeat this cycle two or three times before we're done.

Am I missing something here? I think the answer is yes. I think maybe we are all missing something.

And another blog of note

I also wanted to recommend Steve Salerno's blog, which I recently discovered and have very much enjoyed. And so I will!: I hereby recommend Shamblog. If that sounds like a strange title for a blog, or for anything, it's based on a book Steve wrote about the self-help movement, which he thinks is mostly a waste of time and money. But the discussions on his blog range far wider than Dr. Phil or Oprah. He tackles any number of wild and wonderful topics. Try it! It was really Steve's blog that was the deciding factor in my own entry into the blogosphere. I hope it motivates you too.

This is my world

A world where I hope to explore life in its majesty, mystery, and misery. We will hope for mostly the first two, but must be open to the latter as well, because life is life. It speaks. We listen.