Date: 2005-01-27
To: The Most Remarkable Person I Know
Miles today: 0.0

Without a doubt, the most remarkable person I know, indeed the most remarkable person I have ever met, is my wife. Referred to in this journal, as astute readers have already figured out, as ¢She-who-knows-me-best-but-still-loves-me,¢ or sometimes just ¢She-who-knows-me-best¢ on those days when there could be some minor dispute about the second part of the equation.She was introduced to me by my second wife, she of the Johnny Mathis Betamax tapes for those of you who are REALLY paying attention. We joke now that God surely does move in mysterious ways, having obviously set me up with wife number two as a sort of narrative device for the introduction of a new character into my life -- Act II, Scene 3: ¢Ok, he¢s suffered enough. Cue the good one¢. When I¢m out with the guys, I refer to her as my trophy wife ¢ and those who know the both of us know exactly what I mean. She happens to be 12 years younger than me, and far better looking, but that¢s not what wins her the title. What wins her the title is¢¦oh, gosh, where do I start? Ok, first, she is, like, totally self-sufficient and independent ¢ every bit as ¢low maintenance¢ as the 1981 Volkswagen Rabbit I drove for 18 straight years and 264,000 miles, only changing the oil every three thousand miles or so. (That¢s not a very good analogy, is it? I should probably try to come up with a better one, something more romantic and endearing, but ¢hey ¢ that¢s ME, and if you¢re really going to understand and appreciate HER, the way I do, it¢s important for you to know what she has to put up with, right?)I learned about her self-sufficiency early in our relationship. To illustrate, here's a little viniet(?): vinette(?) vinnyet(?) Here's a little story about it: We were both (recently) single (again) and I was living in a town house two doors down from hers. We were dating at the time, and it was a late summer day. I was out washing my car and thought I might just stretch the hose and carry my bucket down and wash her car for her. Bad idea. She hadn't ASKED me to wash her car for her, HAD SHE? Did she look like someone who needed to have her car washed for her?? "LOOK" she said, if you want to care FOR me, that's fine. But if you're looking for someone to take care OF, then GET YERSELF A GOLDFISH!"   And I'm like....oh¢¦oKayyyyyyy....   Did I mention she's not what you'd call "high maintenance"?   She is also one of the smartest people I¢ve ever met and, when I first met her, was one of the best in this area at what she did for a living ¢ which was to sell houses. She was with a small local brokerage consisting of about 4,000 agents at the time. They had a contest that year with a top prize for the 40 best agents being an all-expenses-paid trip to Ireland. We still have the picture of an Irish Castle hanging in our hallway to remind her of that adventure. (By the way, you really don¢t want to be a stewardess on a transatlantic flight with 40 of the top selling real estate agents in the Washington metropolitan area, trust me on that.)Among her goals at the time, and she was only 28 years old and a relatively new agent, were to become a lifetime member of the Million Dollar Sales Club, to buy herself a brand new Mercedes, and to acquire a portfolio of rental units, all before she was 30 years old. A year later, as she was driving me in her new Mercedes 300 SD to Dulles Airport for my flight to Papua New Guinea, I asked her to marry me. (I¢m not all that stupid myself¢¦)What else? Well, she¢s a fabulous cook, making all kinds of incredible dishes from scratch. You name it, and she¢ll dig out a recipe and have it on the table in no time. My all time favorites are her to-die-for crab cakes and her key lime pie, but I don¢t know of anything she¢s cooked that turned out bad. That¢s one of the reasons I needed that new sleeping bag I talked about a couple of days ago¢¦.Oh, and she¢s probably the best Mom in the whole world ¢ or, if not, she¢s got to be tied with whoever¢s in first place. She has the patience of a saint! She¢d have to, with three kids at home, one of them a teenager, all of them with homework to do every day, and music lessons, and school plays and talent shows, and Church and Christmas pageants, and Cub Scouts, and I don¢t know what-all. The kids (more about them in future editions) are each in a different school, and their Mom is always at their schools, as the class parent, the one doing the costumes (did I mention she is an accomplished seamstress?), the one doing the Teacher Appreciation Luncheon, etc. etc., etc. She feels REAL strong about kids, by the way. You really don¢t want to be the nasty lady in the grocery store smacking or even verbally berating your little kid in public; not if MY wife is around. Her "Mommy Truck" (as the kids refer to it) has one of those specialty license plates with the official slogan "Kids First". Her's reads: ¢EMPOWRM¢. You get the picture? I know what a lot of you are thinking. That¢s all just a MOM thing. Tons of moms out there are doing exactly the same kinds of things for their kids. It¢s just that ¢She-who-knows-me-best¢ does it all with such style and panache that I just can't help but be impressed. I don¢t care what it is, she does it up right.Teacher Appreciation day, right? That what it used to be at one elementary school. She takes it on and turns it into Teacher Appreciation MONTH. Really. With something going on every day. Contests, special events, a breakfast here, a tea there; she wants them to KNOW how much they are appreciated. The grand finale is the big luncheon for all the staff. The previous year, someone had sent out for pizza. The year she did it, they had linen table clothes, china and silver ware, candles floating in glass vases, flowers everywhere, an incredible buffet (from soup to nuts, and ending with Chocolate Covered Giant Strawberries that she had hand-dipped herself), accompanied by ¢ get this ¢ a professional Harpist playing for their dining pleasure, and ending with the presentation of gifts carefully selected for each one of the 87 teachers and other staff. NOW ya got the picture? But wait, I haven¢t gotten to the ¢trophy wife¢ part yet, guys. Get this: if something breaks around the house, do you think she waits for her dear Hubby to get home so that he can fix it for her? Why would she want to do that? This delicate little flower knows more about home construction than any five clerks at our local home depot outlet put together ¢ and most of them are former construction guys. She knows how to replace a roof on a house, hang dry-wall, lay ceramic tile, paint, hang wallpaper, re-plumb a sink or toilet, and repair almost any household appliance you can name. Top THAT!She also has an incredible sense of humor, which is probably what saves our relationship, given what she has to put up with from me. I¢m not going to tell you about this part. I think I¢d rather share my password to TJ.com with her, and let you figure that out for yourself.Another reasons we get along so well is that we have this division of labor worked out: I go to the office and do whatever it is I have to do to make a living, and she handles everything else. Most days that works out pretty well from my point of view. Oh don¢t misunderstand. I¢m still in charge. I get to make all the major decisions. She just makes the minor ones ¢ like should we get a new car, or move to a new house, or send the kids to a private school, those kinds of things. I decide things like whether we should invade Iraq, what to do about the Tsunami victims, and whether we should screw up the Social Security System with 4.01ks ¢ the really important things. It seems to work out ok, but sometimes I wish she¢d keep me a bit more ¢in the loop¢ on those little things she is deciding. I¢ve learned, for example, to pay attention when I suddenly start seeing all these green contractor trash bags getting filled up in the basement. That¢s when I know to ask if we¢re moving again.   So, how does all that relate to this little walk in the woods I¢m planning on doing? We¢ll for one thing, you can be sure I don¢t have to worry about whether she¢ll be able to keep the home fires burning without me there to help. In fact, it will be less work for her with no dinners to be kept warm, less laundry to do, and one less kid to have to pick up after. On the other hand, I think she¢ll miss me. After all, I do remember to take the trash out twice a week. Most times.Stay tuned,