Jim wrote:
> if you just lived out here in softie/latte land,
> you'd be able to borrow any of this stuff any time you
> desired. Might help me justify my insanity to my wife.
Not a chance. Can you justify ANYTHING with a musician wife?
They get their pianos, music libraries (kiss that darkroom
goodbye), Miatas, jewelry, clothes--oh, the clothes and jewelry,
children in private schools and don't forget MOOD SWINGS!
Add to that, they cook some mean meals. As in MEAN! They might
be able to sight-read Mozart in their sleep, but don't ask them
to follow a recipe. "I ran out of chile powder so I put in a
few tablespoons of cayenne pepper instead. It still looked a
little pale so I added more, oh and a bit of curry powder..."
Of course, they skip the meal for a slimfast shake so you are
left trying to choke down the flaming meatloaf, which has the
consistancy of gravel, while saying "oh, it's just fine, honey,
just the way I like it". Don't you dare add ANYTHING to the
meal like salt, pepper or kechup. "You don't like my cooking..."
Fortunately, musician wives don't cook very often. We run a tab
with the local pizza delivery.
So, justifying our insanity to our wives, Jim, is a lost cause.
Give it up and continue to keep it quiet. Your boys are old
enough now that you don't get this, but I'm usually subjected to
comments like "would you rather have that camera lens or your
daughters in shoes and dresses that fit?"
She has now managed to mangle EVERY piece of sheet metal on her
vehicle, except one door, and now has started in on my Jeep.
Yet, I don't say a word. Don't let her near it anymore, but I'm
keeping quiet.
Wouldn't trade her for anything.
AG-Schnozz
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