The Dating Game

I think only two of my four kids have asked me why i married their mom, i guess it's a common question we get from our kiddos when they are little and just wonder about everything.

If you are able to put the answer to that question into words, i congratulate you, because i haven't been able to find the right words; it's more like feelings rather than reasons that come to mind; feelings that involve words like "hopes" and "dreams", and maybe if i could describe them i would be a professional writer. Going with that tired, old answer that "we fell in love" just doesn't cut it  in my book; even if you stretch out the "looooove" when you say it; people fall in loooove every day, sometimes twice in one day, not every couple go that extra step, and make it binding.

I may not have a logical answer for my kids, but when i think about that question
a story does comes to mind that may give them some insight into what went into that all-important choice, or it might confuse them even more.....

It was the early 80's, so i was in my early 20's and i hung out with a couple guys who frequented Mexican beer joints in Wichita Falls. These stinky, badly lit bars were not my thing, but at the time i had been reading Hemingway: The Sun Also Rises, A Moveable Feast, so i was curious about bars in general. I would never attempt to enter these establishments on my own, they were scary places for a sheltered kid like me, and it didn't take long to find out that you are highly unlikely to talk to an interesting person in these joints, like in the novels. My friends enjoyed a game of billiards while drinking beer and listening to loud Mexican music. Eventually, these guys found mates and one left town. Believe me, i can tell a longer version of this story, but i wont, i'll try to make it short and sweet.

After Miguel married i would often go to the Mexican dances in Wichita Falls and Lawton with them; the Valentine's Day dance, Mother's Day dance, Christmas, New Year, and countless weddings. On a few occasions they would fix me up with a Mexican gal who was usually here illegally, and that was ok; legal, illegal, ambiguous, didn't much matter to me.

Then one night i showed up at the rental house they stayed at, north of downtown W.F. and east of Lucy park. There were three girls there with them, two of which would meet their dates at the dance, so i was assigned to Yolanda, one of the other two girl's sister. Yolanda had a bit of a Minnie Mouse look about her, but a pretty girl nonetheless; she was skinny, light skinned, almost pale, and a big, dark curly mane, like that girl on Flashdance. I think she wore black slacks and a white blouse under a v-neck sweater. One thing that i can look back on as an odd thing was that the sister was unususally interested in me, but not in a romantic way; the other thing was that Yolanda didn't say much.

So off we went, and like i said before, i will spare the reader a long drawn out description of the next three hour in the dance hall. To say that Yolanda was a gal of few words would be putting it mildly, but somehow it worked for me. Quiet and shy was just not my experience when it came to Mexican women, so i found myself in the awkward but interesting situation of me doing all the talking; luckily, we were as far away from the band's speakers as one could get, but it was still difficult to talk over the music. We danced a few; i am no dancer, but she held me at arms length and it was like holding a maniquin. Don't get me wrong, i was intrigued, by the end of the night i was giddy with intrigue. I did manage to find out that she was about my age, from Chihuahau, and hadn't been in the U.S. very long; so, i mostly talked about what things were like here.

When we made it back to the house with Miguel and his wife, Lety, the other two girls had found their own way home, and they told me to walk Yolanda home just down the street. We walked half a block in the cool night air, and then we walked between two houses; in the back of this property there were three or four small, white clapboard rental units. There was a bare bulb turned on in the tiny porch of the house that she stopped at to face each other, but she would not look at me. All i could think about was the silliness of this whole night, and dangit if i wasn't going to put the finishing touches on it.

Not expecting anything but a laugh, i said, "you know, in this country, after a date, it is customary to kiss."

Of course, i hoped for her to say something like, "well... when in Rome...."  I was only looking for a laugh, even a "ha! in your dreams", that would have given the night some normalcy, but that was not to be.

Startled, she flew up the porch, flung the door open, jumped inside, and slammed the door shut.

By the time i got back to Miguel's, Lety noticed that i was trying to keep from laughing and she said: what did you do? I innocently told them what had happened
and i did feel bad that i found it amusing but.... that's when Miguel groaned and Lety threw a fit and between them they told me the story. Yolanda had been going to school in a convent, and she was thinking about becoming a nun. Her sister was against it and had brought her to live with her in Wichita Falls to get her away from all that and maybe if she met a nice guy.....so their friend Lety had thought of me.....the nice guy.

It would have helped if they had told me before, but i kinda understand that it was none of my beeswax. Many months later i learned that Yolanda had gone back to Mexico, joined the convent for good. To my utter shock, Yolanda's sister told Lety to tell me that Yolanda said hi, and thought of me fondly. Hmm.

Ladies and gentleman, in this fashion or some other, this was a typical outing of the dating kind for me.

Eventually, i met Trish, and without skipping a beat, she was the one that said: well.... when in Rome......

Poetic License 3

Because we had to keep up the pretense for the benefit of my in-law's neighbors in Durango, Mexico, Trish and i went on a honeymoon to the first beach we came to going west until we came to the Pacific Ocean; we just had to drive over the Sierra Madre Occidental, which is a gorgeous mountain range, to get to the beach.

Instead of waiting to find out when Trish's appointment at the U.S. consulate would be, to get married, we set a date and let the chips fall.... When we got back to Durango from the honeymoon, the letter with the appointment was waiting for her; the date was three weeks away, so we decided i would come back to Texas and in three weeks go back and meet her in Monterrey. I did not leave right away, so we just spent about 18 days apart. This may be starting to sound trivial, but i'm telling this story so i can talk about my in-law's neighbors, a really fun bunch. So, this is what would typically happen: the neighbor would show up at the house and be surprised to see Trish there; Pati, what are you doing here? they would ask, and she would explain. The neighbor would then give Trish a forlorn look, sit her down, take her hand, and tell her that things would turn out for the best.

This goes on a few days until finally Trish says: what is the matter with everbody?
She then finds out that just about everyone in the neighborhood had heard a story that someone had heard from a friend, who'd heard it from a friend, about
some guy from the U.S. who comes to Durango, woos and marries an unsuspecting virgin; after the honeymoon, he has to go back to the U.S., but promises to return... Of course, the story does not have a happy ending, the guy is never heard from again, the girl is ruined forever. Eventually, some did come out and say it to her face: they thought that that's what i was doing. Oh yee of little faith....

After 20 years, some of which have been horrible for us because of who we are, some because of life's crap, which is thrown upon everyone, i know very little about marrige. I have an opinion and some comments which i will share; they are not based on any faith, my faith is in my relationship with Trish because i have seen it evolve from nothing into something i know is not indistructable, but will not easily be toppled, either.

So, i think of marrige as being like flying machines, but before the Wright brothers. I think most of us strap on wings to our arms, stand on that cliff, say: I do, and jump together. It gets tiresome after a while; it's work, all that flapping. We do something wrong and then someone has to flap even harder, it get's even more tiring. Why is it so surprising that so many crash and burn? What we need is the Wright brothers of marrige; someone who'll get the aerodynamics and the physics right and give us the formula.

I'm still surprised when Trish tells me about talking and dealing with most Hispanic women that she meets. Anytime they ask her if she can do something with them, volunteer or go out to eat, anything that involves leaving the house, Trish will usually say yes without hesitation; and they will usually say: are you sure, don't you need to ask your husband's permission? And even when talking to her sisters in Mexico, when Trish talks about girls night out or lunches and banquets with hispanic groups that she has to attend without me, they inevitably ask if it doesn't make me angry or jealous; you'd think they'd know me by now. Even if it did make me angry or jealous, it wouldn't give me the right to stop her from doing the things she enjoys. And yes, she has to attend these functions without me because i refuse to go; i'm an introvert and i'm no good at small talk and i don't care about all these awards that Hispanics want to give each other. I know, it's about supporting her interests, but i don't ask her to support my interests, so we're even. I mean, if i can ever get enough people together to burn Glen Beck in effigy, i don't expect her to be there by my side, unless she really wants to. And it's not like i'm telling her not to go, on the contrary, i say you go girl! and if she wants to get all painted up, looking all fetching, i say you go girl! i'll be here when you get back. If we first cannot be our individual selves, how can we be happy as part of a couple?

And yes it has been a problem for us, we are very different people; we grew up in different countries, for heaven's sake; it's frustrating for Trish not to be able to make me into the social person she wants me to be; but, i think it makes our
relationship interesting. And let's face it people, we're talking about one of the most difficult challenges most of us will have in our lives, interesting is not bad.

The best advice i ever heard about marrige was from Trish's uncle Miguel, at our wedding, who told us: never lose respect for one another, because without respect for each other, it's all over. That advice and the importance of keeping a sense of humor will be my advice to all my children, whether they decide to marry or live with someone without benfit of clergy. I just think that making things legal and putting on a big, expensive show for your family and neighbors is trivial compared to the relationship.

Poetic License 2

Here i am at my confirmation with my godparents in front of a Catholic church in Matamoros, Mexico. Apparently i was catholic the first seven years of my life, when we lived there. Except for dad, of course, by then he had taken up with what turned out to be a religion that is the opposite of Catholicism. A religion that hates Catholicism and refuses to celebrate Christmas and birthdays. We just didn't know it, yet.

If i was the romantic type, i might say that everything happens for a reason. Like having been confirmed Catholic before my father whisked us off to a world where Armagedon loomed nearer every day, or so it seemed to me. So when Trish called to tell me that i would have to become Catholic, i was able to say: oh, but i am! I was baptised and confirmed and i have my confirmation certificate to prove it; i just never did my first communion. She said: ok, mail it to me; that will get the ball rolling, we'll worry about the rest later.

The only thing we had to worry about was the premarital counceling that Catholic couples have go through together; but we were allowed to go through that individually. I called Our Lady of Guadalupe church in Wichita Falls and explained the situation; the father there was hesitant at first, but finally agreed. I was actually nervous to meet this man because i hadn't been around a priest since i was seven, but he turned out to be guy just a few years older than me from Ft. Worth. He talked to me about the sacraments and the usual stuff concerning marrige; i actually enjoyed our little talks. Trish went to her talks with a group where she was the only one without their future spouse. She said the deacon giving the talks told the grooms-to-be: (and this is most important) do not get drunk at the wedding because then you won't be able to determine if your bride was a virgin on your wedding night.

My advice would be the opposite, i would say: gentleman, ignorance is bliss, drink up. Bringing Catholicism to Mexico was just a bad idea.

There was to be no legal union by a justice of the peace for us because according to U.S. Immigration rules Trish had get her fiancee visa in Monterrey and once on U.S. soil, we could then marry legally. The problem: the Catholic church requires a couple to be legally married before it does a wedding mass.

The way things work in Durango, Mexico is all about appearences. Trish's parents could not have her just disappear without a good explination for distant family and espeacially neighbors. "She got a visa through her boyfriend, so she's going to Texas with him because he promised to marry her there," was not going to cut it.
Chaperon or no chaperon, their daughter was not going anywhere without at least the appearence of decorum. It's the european blood, the state of Durango was settled by people of the Basque region of Spain nearly 500 years ago. I believe the Aztec had a more relaxed constitution.

I have asked Trish how her parents were able to get us into that church for a wedding mass without the civil marrige certificate, but she has never given me a straight answer.

All my family drove down to Durango with me a couple of days before the wedding. The ceremony was at 8pm with the reception after in a private home; we spent most of the day together running all over town.

The time between arriving at the church and arriving at the reception is fuzzy, but this is my interpretation of the events. Upon entering the church i was told to go stand in front of the alter, which i did; but when i looked back at Trish, the priest was standing next to her and motioning me to join them, which i did. So, i join them in mid conversation, i don't know what's going on, but Trish had instructed me to say yes to anything the priest might ask, which we did. Now, at this point in the story, i have to speculate because, like i've said, Trish won't tell me what was going on; so, knowing that Mexicans will always go for the big lie when a little one or no lie at all will do, i think they told this priest that i was part of a drug cartel, because in all the telenovelas i've watched, the drug dealing groom is always marring some woman when he's already married to some other gal.

This would explain what happened next: the priest pulls me aside and asks me something which at the time i thought was one thing, but 20 years later, in which time, my spanish and understanding of Mexicans has improved, i now know that he was asking me, in his fancy priest talk, if i was already married. Well, whatever it was that i thought he was asking at the time and the answer to this question, luckily, was the same; and, luckily, i had decided to go with my gut on that question. This man was no fool, he knows something is going on, he doesn't want a mockery made out of this sacrament, he's afraid that the reason why we could not produce a marrige cetificate was that i was otherwise bound.

This was at the end of April. In June, we went to Judge Nancy here in Burk and she did the honors. I tell Trish that those few precious weeks between our fake wedding and our legal union were the happiest weeks of my life; a dream come true, thanks to the U.S. goverment.

That's why we have two anniversaries. We traditonally celebrate our fake wedding, but also aknowledge our legal union each year. This year everything conspired against us so we were not able to do anything on that day in April and we kept putting it off until i came up with the idea of changing our official anniversary to our June date from now on. It will go well with my birthday and Father's Day
that month.

I also tell Trish that i'm not 100% sure we're legally married because that day in June, Judge Nancy had me translate what she was saying into spanish, and you know, i'm a terrible translator; remember, at one point i said: she's saying that thing they always say in the movies, you know? You call that a translation? You didn't know what you were saying yes to, therefore not legal; we may still be living in sin. She just says that she's 100% sure that i'm an idiot... well, maybe she doesn't say it, but i know that look.

Poetic License

I've discovered that it is easy to sound (figuratively speaking) like a jerk or an idiot when you comment about marrige. When you're dealing with a sensitive subject like marrige, people will decide what tone they're going to hear based on the weight of their personal baggage; and, let's face it, marrige can be the very definition of the word: ambivalence.  So, i'm just going to throw my opinions out there, and not worry about what tone anyone thinks i'm taking. I'm not trying to change the world, for heaven's sake, i'm just talking about it.

"no one wants to get married,"

That quote was part of my stream of thought in my last post, and even though i cannot justify it, i decided to leave it in. It can be taken as humor, like most exaggeration, but i was also hoping to shake people up, plant a seed, make the reader wonder if maybe there is something to it.

Marrige does what it's supposed to do: provide a couple with legal union; it does nothing else, though. But, seems to me, in american society the word "marrrige" has become synonymous with "instant happiness and magic." That's why when people fall in love, right away, they think: i want to marry this person; it's what people in america have been fed since childhood. You go to school, go to church,
join the Republican Party, and marry your sweetheart. Maybe in India it is different, since marriges are an arranged affair.

I try to see through the propaganda. When i knew i had fallen for Trish, 21 years ago, my first thought was not: i want to marry this this girl; i did not see her in a wedding dress or feel a desire to be legally bound to her. I simply felt a desire to share my life with her. I suppose most people would say that a secular person like myself, with my family background, of course i'm going to have a distorted view of this institution. I don't think that has anything to do with it; i think it's my proclivity towards progressiveness.

The marrige license started showing up in the middle ages; before then, a couple would just have to stand in front of their friends and family or the god of their choice and declare their commitment. The purpose of the license is exclusion: underage people, of course, are excluded to keep them from making the biggest mistake of their lives; and at one time, a man and woman of different color need not apply, also. I'm all for governing the masses  but we've seen what people of one color can do to people of another color, or of another religion. Of course,
marrige should be regulated, it's a legal contract, but it should be as easy as filling out some forms and filing them to dissolve it for two consenting adults who own nothing and have no children. It is ridiculous to have to pay lawyers exorbitant
sums of money and have it drag on so long.

So, yes i have some problems with the system of legal union, but i did not ask Trish to "shack up" with me. There was no point in doing that for more than one reason. There are two things that Mexicans take very seriously, make that three: baptisms, weddings, and funerals; they're mandatory. I was too young to protest the first, couldn't get out of the second, but i'm sure as hell getting out of the third, i'm donating my body to science. I want them to see how well i've evolved, but i digress.

I did not have to ask Trish what her parents would have thought if i had voiced my desire to live in sin with their daughter, i had my own parents. The fact was: if i wanted Trish to share my life here, we would have to marry. I did not hesitate, i did not think: dang it, now i have to get married! It was the law of the land and it's not like i am against marrige, some of my best friends are married. (If Trish read my blog, she would laugh at that because she knows i have no friends.)

So, just as soon as she said yes, i went about investigating the proper way of doing this thing. My friends, the ones i used to have, told me to just pay a coyote to bring her across the river and then marry her and fix her papers, simple as that, and absolutely wrong. I petitioned for a fiancee visa on her behalf. Several months later she would receive an appointment at the U.S. consulate in Monterrey for an interview; there she would either be approved to enter the U.S. or not; she got it on the first try, i was so proud of her.

But let's go back, back to before i sent the application in to what was then U.S. Immigration and Naturalization; it read very clearly on the application: the fiancee must stay a fiancee until she entered the U.S., she could then marry the fiance. I think this was when i started to think: this is getting interesting. When i called Trish to explain the situation, i tried to not giggle because i already thought i knew where this was going; she said she would talk to her parents.

Back then, hardly anyone in Trish's family or my Mexican family, for that matter, had passports, let alone U.S. visas, which are not easily obtained in Mexico. When the verdict came in, Trish called to tell me that her parents would agree to let her go with me if we had a church ceremony in Durango. I asked her how we would do that, because i knew that couples had to get married in a civil ceremony by a justice of the peace before going to the church ceremony. She said that in Mexico, if you know the right people, anything is possible. And that's when i started to get excited about this "wedding."

The only two pictures of Trish and me before we got married, 1989.

Que te quita

My 12 year old and i were shooting baskets at the park last night when the temperture had gone down to 100 degrees. He was telling me that earlier, on Twitter, all of the sudden there were like tons of people all excited and like celebrating that Proposition 8 had been repealed.

I asked him if he knew like, what that was all about? he said something about GL&B's wanting to get married. So, i explained, this is going on in California (or Californication, as RWR would call it) and it's not about wanting to get married, nobody wants to get married, people get married to provide and protect their spouses and to have a fun wedding. This is about giving people equal rights.

Right Wing Religion, the biggest opposers of gay marrige, does not like it for the same reason it won't accept evolution as the reason for our existence: it threatens their belief system. That belief system keeps their world in order, supposedly keeps everyone in line, and insures their reward in the afterlife. It is against anything that might undermine bible teaching. Fear seems to be the main ingredient for intolerance.

I tell my kids: do not make assumptions about people, you will often be wrong,
and it leads to discrimination.

Anyway, it's too early for California gays to celebrate, but any excuse for a party, just like Mexicans. They should remember, RWR are a tenacious bunch, they have God on their side.

What i would say to a RWR person about gay marrige is what my mom used to say to me when i refused to try something new, she would ask me: que te quita? Which means: what does it take from you? And she would make a circle with her thumb and forefinger, hold it in front of my face and say: this is how much it takes  from you!

It's 4 O'Clock Somewhere

So, i'm a tea drinker now, going on a fortnight; drank coffee for thirty years. I never really liked the bitter taste of coffee, actually; i liked what i put in it: milk, sugar, and vanilla flavoring; liquid ice cream with a kick.

I wonder if tea drinking will make me a different person, i AM using words like "fortnight", after all; so, obviously i'm reading Jane Austen.

Coffee is John Wayne, tea is Ricky Gervais; i'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. I guess that expression came about when people started using wood floors in homes, there's nothing like a wood floor to resonate the sound of a dropped shoe or boot.

That thing about red meat being next to go is an inside joke that no one is in on. The thing is, i have a lot of customers in the cattle industry, i wonder if i should be writing stuff like that, it might upset them. But if i'm not going to write things that might upset people, i have nothing to write about. Anyway, beef, i can take it or leave it, but to me the only good steak is a piece of meat loaded with fat; it's the fat that i like, not the meat, just like my coffee. This year i've had lean beef on three occasions, when there's been nothing else to eat, i just don't see the point of lean beef and i'm not going to eat all that fat either, when i actually prefer chicken.

Don't pay any attention to me, it's the tea talking.

Life on a Rock

Who are we and what do we want? People, i mean.

For a short time there i thought we were creations of a deity and that our principal desire should be salvation--the fundamentals that my parents taught me. But it slowly dawned on me that we are just another one of the living creatures that evolved on this planet. I then realized that what i truely wanted was a reasonable amount of happiness during my time on this rock and to understand it and as many of its other inhabitants as i could; by inhabitants i mean other animals, fish, plants, trees, viruses, everything that i share Earth with.

This desire to know about all the creatures on this rock and the rock itself, i realize now stem from my connection to these things. A connection that modern life keeps hacking away at.

15,000 years ago i would have to risk life and limb to obtain material for making footwear; there was a closer connection then, between hunter and hunted. Today, unless i had to bring down the UPS truck that delivers my animal skins to produce footwear, the predetor-prey relationship is gone, the connection is less defined. My need to explore mother Earth, to become one with, is diminished.

Knowledge of life is understanding of it and to understand is to feel, which brings honor to the life being acknowledged. That is why Facebook is so popular: most people like being acknowledged.

"The only good is knowledge and the only evil is ignorance"
--Socrates