Twenty-one Truths About Love

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Twenty-one Truths About Love Page 4

by Matthew Dicks


  Stupid customer questions always come in either threes or hundreds.

  Regardless of how much time a woman has to get ready for a night out, she will always use all that time plus 15 minutes.

  Men wearing ties buy fewer books.

  A person’s memory of the children’s picture books from their youth never matches the quality of those books.

  Customers don’t like paying full price for slender novels but don’t want to read long ones, either.

  The ratio of bad mail to good mail is 500:1.

  Yes, airline seats recline, but they do so only as a means of identifying assholes on your flight.

  Daylight savings time should happen at noon, when it can be appreciated.

  DECEMBER 12

  8:20 AM

  Billionaires

  Bill Gates (Melinda Gates?)

  Warren Buffet

  Larry Ellison

  Mark Cuban

  Jeff Bezos (he already has lots of my money)

  Larry Page and Sergey Brin (package deal?)

  The Koch Brothers (I’d rather go broke first)

  Top 10 highest paid athletes

  Cristiano Ronaldo

  Lionel Messi

  LeBron James

  Roger Federer

  Kevin Durant

  Novak Djokovic

  Cam Newton

  Phil Mickelson

  Jordan Spieth

  Kobe Bryant

  Number of athletes on this list whose names I recognize

  2

  DECEMBER 13

  11:45 AM

  Musicians who left their bands and went on to have successful solo careers

  Not Steve Perry

  Addition to Dan’s Laws of the Universe

  Journey fans who argue that Journey isn’t Journey without Steve Perry are just whiners in need of a time machine.

  DECEMBER 14

  4:30 AM

  Days I Live with Peter

  September 21: Wedding anniversary

  December 24: Birthday

  March 1: Death

  February 14: Letters

  Days I Really Live with Peter

  Every day

  Things I Like About Peter

  Shorter than me

  Hemingway fan

  Rescued Jill from boating accident (but she probably wouldn’t have drowned)

  Couldn’t get Jill pregnant

  Prematurely balding (or balded?) (past tense?)

  Dead (no offense)

  Things I Don’t Like About Peter

  Marathon runner

  James Joyce fan

  Good cook

  Never ran out of money

  December 24 birthday kind of fucks up Christmas Eve

  Still exists even though he’s dead

  February 14 letters

  DECEMBER 15

  11:55 PM

  Gifts purchased for Mom’s birthday

  Quiet by Susan Cain (passive-aggressive)

  Autumnal wreath (Jill’s idea)

  Framed copy of her last 3 letters to the editor (BEST GIFT IDEA EVER)

  Subjects of Mom’s last 3 letters to the editor

  The decline of Western civilization as evidenced by the number of baseball caps being worn by men in restaurants

  Where has the motorcycle sidecar gone?

  The importance of supporting street artists

  Mom’s responses to the framed letters to the editor

  “What is this? No. Is it…? Oh my goodness.”

  “This must’ve been Jill’s idea. Right?”

  “I may switch the frames for something more stylish.”

  “Are you sure this wasn’t your idea, Jill?”

  “That motorcycle sidecar story may seem trivial, but I received a lot of correspondence in response to it. People have a real love affair with sidecars.”

  “This is a beautiful gift, Daniel. Truly.”

  Jake’s gift for Mom

  Cooking lesson in the home of a Peruvian immigrant

  Mom’s response to Jake’s gift

  “This is so creative, Jake.”

  “She’s legal. Right?”

  “Brooklyn? Brooklyn, New York?”

  “I love a good cooking class.”

  “Why Peru?”

  “Are there even any good Peruvian restaurants?”

  “She doesn’t smoke. Does she?”

  Number of times in my life when my gift was better than Jake’s gift until now

  0

  Addition to the LESS STUPID (but still incredibly stupid) LIST

  Carnivals (no security cameras, cash only)

  DECEMBER 20

  6:40 AM

  Memorable Christmases

  Circa 1978 (age 5): Christmas breakfast at Grandpa’s house. Fruit cocktail from a can. Snowball fight with Uncle Brian. Great-Grandpa’s jokes. Mom and Dad squished into a recliner together.

  1982: Dad comes to house for 30 minutes on Christmas morning for breakfast. Gives me a Star Wars droid factory and a yo-yo. Hugs me hard. Doesn’t stay for breakfast. I don’t notice him leave. No goodbye. Don’t realize this until 20 years later.

  1986 (age 13): Jake and I sneak downstairs in the middle of the night. Open and rewrap gifts. Jake admits to it the next day. Little bitch.

  1992 (age 19): Watch Unforgiven in an empty movie theater. I tell Mom and Jake that I spend the day with friends.

  1992 (age 20): Christmas weekend with Christine Neelon’s family in Vermont. Lots of sex in basement. Vodka martinis. Creamsicles. A dog named Pathos.

  2002: Volunteer at Berlin VFW. Meet Meg in kitchen while doing dishes.

  2004: Christmas at Meg’s parents’ house. They make us sleep in separate bedrooms. We have retaliatory sex at every chance we get. My best Christmas since childhood when Mom and Dad were still together.

  2005 (age 32): First Christmas after Meg leaves me. I throw the engagement ring off the Flower Bridge into Farmington River. I regret it before it even hits the water. So stupid.

  2007: First Christmas with Jill on Robin Road. Her first real Christmas tree. First stringing of popcorn and cranberries. First midnight Mass. Unknowingly gave each other the same book of Billy Collins’s poetry (Taking Off Emily Dickinson’s Clothes).

  2008 (age 35): Jill tells me that Peter’s birthday was on Christmas Eve. She tells me this on Christmas Eve. I act like a dick about it. We skip midnight Mass and go to bed angry.

  Addition to Dan’s Laws of the Universe

  Retaliatory sex is even better than make-up sex.

  DECEMBER 20

  7:00 AM

  The December 24, 2008, argument as I remember it

  Christmas tree alight

  Pile of wrapped presents under the tree

  Fire crackling in the fireplace

  Holiday music

  Brandy cider

  “Hey, did I ever tell you…?”

  My completely rational and appropriate responses to this poorly timed news

  “Seriously?”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Fuck.”

  “I know it’s Christmas Eve! That’s why I’m so upset!”

  “You thought that this was the right time to mention his birthday? Right now? Tonight? Instead of say … April? Or never?”

  “No. I refuse to listen to little children sing Christmas carols under stained glass with this in my head.”

  “Yes, I love it, but we don’t get to have pretty things tonight! You fucked that up with your bullshit news.”

  Admitted flaw to my memory

  That apartment didn’t have a fireplace.

  Stupid things that should only be done on television because in real life there are no commercial breaks. Just subsequent awkwardness, feelings of inadequacy, and grudging apologies

  Storming off

  Brooding

  Hanging up on someone

  Slamming doors in anger

  Throwing anything in anger

  Turning out the light and pretendi
ng to be asleep in order to demonstrate your anger

  Subjects that should be broached during the first three months of dating

  Previous marriages

  Crazy ex-boyfriends/girlfriends

  Allergies

  Arrest record

  Parents’ worst attributes

  Possible future children

  Major surgeries

  Religion

  Bizarre love of Barry Manilow and Air Supply

  Possible future vegetarianism/veganism

  Pets

  Past sexual encounters involving more than one person

  Possible deal breakers (skydiving, ferrets)

  Can you drive a stick?

  Voting record

  Current drug use (if any)

  Favorite books/authors

  Dead husband’s birthday IF THAT BIRTHDAY ALSO LANDS ON A MAJOR HOLIDAY

  DECEMBER 20

  7:40 AM

  Christmas 2008 Lessons Learned

  An excellent way to ruin Christmas morning is to fight with your spouse the night before and go to bed very angry.

  Jealousy of a dead man is ugly, stupid, real, and best kept hidden, particularly on the holidays.

  “Your timing sucked” is never a winnable argument.

  Avoiding midnight Mass does not balance the grief of a full-blown argument, but it doesn’t hurt.

  Additional Christmas Lessons Learned

  Unforgiven is not a Christmas movie.

  Accomplices can never be trusted.

  Never make decisions involving $8,000 pieces of jewelry when you’re emotionally charged.

  Eating half a dozen Creamsicles in a single sitting can result in explosive diarrhea.

  DECEMBER 22

  6:14 PM

  Things I Wish I Had Known 20 Years Ago When I Was 20

  Every pound you add to your body will be ten times more difficult to remove.

  Peppermint schnapps is not an acceptable substitute for mouthwash.

  Some bras unsnap in the front.

  Hard rolls are not hard.

  When the opportunity for a threesome arises, take it. Please. It may only happen once.

  Audiobooks are not for morons who can’t read.

  Hours spent shoveling quarters into video games in arcades will always feel like time well spent. Hours spent playing video games at home will not.

  You need not camouflage your condom purchases with bottles of shampoo, boxes of cookies, and ballpoint pens. No one fucking cares about your sex life.

  Tighten lug nuts using an actual tire iron. Fingers alone won’t do it.

  Garbage disposals are not equipped to handle one pound of overcooked linguini.

  Your hair will never be as important as you think it is until it starts falling out.

  There is no good reason to ever set foot inside a strip club.

  Invest in an index fund. Compound interest is so fucking important.

  Things I Still Need to Do

  Invest in an index fund. Compound interest is so fucking important.

  DECEMBER 23

  9:25 AM

  Mistakes I made with Meg

  Asked her to marry me

  Thought that long-term financial security was at least as important as love

  Assumed that a fiancée who is still having sex with you still loves you and isn’t as unhappy as she seems to me.

  DECEMBER 24

  7:50 AM

  15 Truths about Peter

  He would’ve been 38 years old today.

  It’s a terrible thing to know that you found love only because another man died.

  Peter had no middle name because his mother and father couldn’t agree on one.

  Peter and I would never have been friends.

  Peter was left-handed.

  I never met Peter, but I feel like he is always with me.

  Peter loved Three Stooges movies, which seems ultra-cool until you watch those stupid movies and realize how stupid they are.

  There are three photos of Peter and Jill in our house.

  It is impossible to compete with a dead man.

  Jill doesn’t talk about Peter very often because of me.

  Sometimes I whisper, “Thank you, Peter.” Not for dying but for being so good to Jill when he was alive.

  I suck when it comes to Peter.

  I sometimes wonder if I think about Peter more than Jill does.

  I will never be as good a man as Peter was.

  Happy birthday, Peter.

  DECEMBER 25

  12:55 PM

  Christmas presents from Mom to me

  Good to Great by Jim Collins (“For your business!”)

  Gift certificate to Tracy and Company (her favorite hair salon)

  Three-month gym membership

  Christmas presents from Mom to Jake

  Season pass to the Playhouse on Park

  Slippers

  Peanut brittle

  Christmas presents from me and Jill to Jake Jr.

  A Wrinkle in Time series

  10 packs of Magic: The Gathering cards

  4 movie passes

  Christmas presents from me to Jake Jr. that Jill didn’t know about

  Nerf rifle

  DECEMBER 25

  1:10 PM

  Number of times Mom mentioned Peter (a man she never met) on Christmas

  2 (way too many)

  Number of books Mom gave to a son who owns a bookstore

  1 (also way too many)

  Number of times Mom mentioned Jake and Sophia’s “new downtown location”

  Lost count

  Mom’s mentions of Peter

  “Do you still talk to Peter’s mother?”

  (looking at a photo of Peter and Jill) “I wish I had a chance to meet Peter. He looks smart.”

  Addition to Dan’s Laws of the Universe

  “Looking smart” is not a thing.

  DECEMBER 25

  6:00 PM

  Christmas Day arguments between Jake and me

  The Scooby-Doo Mystery Machine shouldn’t have the name THE MYSTERY MACHINE written on the side because the gang stumbles upon mysteries. They don’t seek them out.

  Chilean sea bass is actually Patagonian toothfish, and that is what we should call it. Fuck the pretentious renaming of food.

  “Scantily clad” is a stupid way of describing someone.

  The word “porn” makes pornography dirtier than it really is.

  DECEMBER 25

  6:10 PM

  5 reasons to never use the phrase “scantily clad” again

  “Scantily clad” has been done. It’s been overdone. It’s absolutely, positively finished. Beaten like a dead horse. It’s moved past cliché and into the realm of tragically unoriginal. It’s a phrase that you should never, ever use again.

  It’s weird that the word “scantily” is never used without the word “clad.”

  It’s weird that the phrase is almost exclusively used to describe a woman in a certain state of undress when men are just as capable of being in similar states of undress.

  The phrase “scantily clad” is also a little creepy. Not a lot creepy. Just a teensy-weensy bit creepy. It’s the kind of phrase that mouth-breathing teenage fantasy writers use to describe the inexplicably half-naked girl being held prisoner by the dragon, and that makes it a tiny bit creepy.

  Do a Google image search of the phrase “scantily clad.” The images associated with the phrase should make it clear that this is not a phrase that you should be using.

  DECEMBER 25

  6:30 PM

  Other poorly named foods (in addition to Chilean sea bass)

  Corned beef

  Pulled pork

  Bread pudding

  Noodle pudding

  Field greens

  Blood orange

  Pu pu platter

  DECEMBER 25

  7:00 PM

  Alcohol consumed on Christmas

  Mom: 3 glasses of wine

  Jill: 2 g
lasses of wine, both unfinished (annoying)

  Jake: 4 glasses of wine and at least 4 beers

  Sophia: Half a bottle of champagne

  Jake Jr.: None

  Me: 2 beers

  DECEMBER 25

  10:55 PM

  Things I Learned on Christmas Day

  Being sober sucks when your mother and brother are not.

  Sophia goes ice fishing on her own and loves it.

  There are FIVE books in the Wrinkle in Time series now.

  Jake and Sophia’s new location is “booming.”

  Goldfish were originally treated like fresh flowers. Colorful decorations for a room that were never fed and simply discarded when they died.

  I am the only person in my family who thinks that Die Hard is a Christmas movie.

  The Gambia is the name of a country that runs along the Gambia River. It’s called The Gambia so it won’t be confused with Zambia.

  Jake Jr. hates his name.

  DECEMBER 25

  11:10 PM

  5 Reasons Why Jake Jr. Has Every Right to Hate His Name

  Naming your child after yourself is self-serving and narcissistic.

  No one likes to be called Junior. Ever.

  Living in the permanent shadow of your father sucks.

  Being required to write your father’s name (and especially Jake’s name) on tests and official documents when you’re angry at your father really sucks.

  If Jake Jr. also decides to name his son Jake, then his son becomes “the third,” which makes everyone want to punch him.

  DECEMBER 25

  11:30 PM

  Additions to Dan’s Laws of the Universe

  The number of drinking stories that a person wants to tell is in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol he or she has consumed.

  The quality of a person’s drinking stories is in inverse proportion to the amount of alcohol he or she has consumed.

  Die Hard is a Christmas movie. So is Die Hard 2.

 

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