it ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And you’ve got to learn to live with what you can’t rise above if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love
Better times June ’08
Even before marriage I thought this was the most accurate song of a real relationship. I still think so. Today is the 15th anniversary of when I met my husband Mark Peel. My friend Heather was with me. I had just had a lousy stand up set. I was in an area of town I barely knew. Heather knew less having just moved to LA from San Francisco where we met each other working Metro Traffic in 1991. The Tobacco Road of broadcasting.
“We could go to Luna Park or go upscale and go to Campanile.”
“Let’s go upscale” she said.
That changed my life.
It was around 10. Dinner crowd had drained out. We perched ourselves on the dark orange leather square seats. Felix the bartender served us warmly. Great wines, yummy nibbles, we joked to those within earshot. All was good. I made fun of some guy from the kitchen with a funny hat. He looked confused.
Later the manager would introduce that man to me. Chef owner Mark Peel.
He was not my type. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about what he looked like without those white clothes on.
Cut to now. 2 children, helped raise my stepson and two older stepchildren who have been very important to my life. A step grandson who I adore.
But, we are not good. Details are not for here, but I know I’m not the only one whose great love story does not have “a happily ever after.”
I’ve recently started doing some stand up again. One of my jokes “weddings are ruined for me. I’m sitting there with a slow clap, clap. Good luck. You two against the world. Wait till you have to share a sink everyday and watch your spouse floss, yeah, “at last”!!
There is love, some respect and the intense devotion to our children. I wouldn’t write this if they didn’t know something was rotten in the produce drawer. They do. I’m sorry they do. Most of the time we are “fine”. But, in my belly there is a daily churn. Occasionally, so bad I have to have a Brian Wilson day. ( aka not get out of bed)
I started wanting to do mom blog videos back in 2007 because I knew I wasn’t the only mom who felt isolated by new motherhood. Now, I extend the same message, but with a twist: who here is isolated because your marriage is not quite right and you cannot say it aloud? You don’t want to reveal too much, you don’t want to dog your man, you don’t want to embarass your kids. I have felt alone the last couple of years. But, a few weeks ago it shifted for me. Now, I’m practically stopping strangers on the street. “Did you find everything you needed?” asks the cashier.
“Not the key to conflict resolution, no I did not.”
The isolation and shame of not having my happily ever after has stifled me creatively as well. I’ve barely generated one funny, or sad word here in the last couple of years. I texted to a friend tonight “I’m a shadow of my former self.”
” How did this happen? I never thought this would be me. ” I muse.
You know how when you are young you are full of absolutes. “I would never____” . “If ___ happened, that’s it, I’m gone.” Then you grow up and all those things happen and you do not change course. “you learn to live with the things you cannot rise above.”
I’ve written before about my brother’s suicide. “Why?” People ask. I ask myself.
“Why do you two have problems?” People ask. I ask myself. In both cases, it’s multi layered. Never one clear, “well, he never folded the laundry!” “He hated how I chewed my food.” Now you have the same finances, friends and children. Unlike when you are dating you just can’t grab your toothbrush and favorit pillow and go. I have no answers and no pronouncements. I only know as a friend told me once, “we are lost in the storm.”
I know, without knowing, I’m not the only one in this blizzard.
Viv and I in ’12.. the last days Campanile was open. I met her dad a few feet from where we sat