Do you know what I’ve discovered? Before we heterosexuals try and pull the speck out of the eye of our gay brothers and sisters regarding the “sanctity of marriage,” we need to work on pulling the logs out of our own eyes when it comes to the mockery of marriage that so many of us have so cynically engaged in. I attended Kim and Kris’ wedding a few months ago (I’m just like “this” [two fingers crossed] with the Kardashians), and I am so upset over Kim’s announcement that she is breaking up her marriage with Kris Humphries after only 72 days — I just don’t feel like celebrating another wedding ever again. I mean I used to love these expensive, over-the-top weddings, but I’m stunned at the revelation of the demise of Kim and Kris’ marriage after such a huge shindig. They were cast so perfectly for the reality show, and they had such a perfect fairy tale wedding. Ask any of my friends: I can’t shake off my grief. I’ve become such a mess over the demise of their union that I had to write Kim a letter and get some of my disappointment and frustration off my chest. I mean she’s like a daughter to me, so I have the right to get all up in her business if I want to, if you’re wondering – if you really want to know.
Google Image/Kim Kardashian
Hello Pookey: I hear you’re an absolute wreck these days. I’m so sorry. I tossed a coin to see whether I should write to you or Kris, and I chose you because I really don’t think that child has the sense he was born with (we’ll tackle that boy’s maturity level another day). Now you know how long your mother and I have been friends. We go way back to the O.J. and Nicole Simpson days when they claimed to have a happy marriage, and you know what happened to them. And as your favorite aunt who has been happily married for over 32 years, I felt that I had the gravitas to be able to write you this note. You remember how much I loved, loved, and triple loved your wedding that happened JUST A FEW MONTHS AGO? Everything was perfect! The entire affair was just to die for! But now I hear you are divorcing Kris’ ass after only 72 days. I also hear you’re not planning on giving Kris back the two million dollar engagement ring he gave you.
I’m sure you don’t want to hear this, Baby-girl, but give that child back his little 20.5 carat piece of shiny carbon, ‘cause nobody can claim to have been married when they call it quits after only 72 days. That wasn’t a marriage, Sugah — that was an extended sleep-over with benefits. One of your anonymous peeps said to Jennifer Garcia of People Online that “Everything she (Kim) dreamed of in her mind was right there in front of her but what she realized is that her heart wasn’t there.” Were you in love with “being in love” and then reality hit? Real reality (not staged reality) is a bitch, isn’t it? You see Kim, baby, — fantasy is one thing, real life is another — and all marriages (if they are to survive) have to grow up in the reality of immature actions, screaming babies, sickness, unemployment, bad breath, laundry, disappointment, occasional smelly farts, and annoying habits. You can’t cry “cut” like you do on your reality show when you’ve had enough. Real love can conquer all that. Just ask your Uncle WW and me. BUT, GIRLFRIEND, YOU NEED MORE THAN 72 FUCKING HOURS! Am I getting through to you here? Also, I don’t mean to be cruel or anything, but times are hard and if you’re really serious about calling it quits with Kris, then Uncle WW and I would like our twin Dalmatian puppies back. I don’t know what the hell we’re going to do with them, but we’ll think of something, ‘cause those suckers cost us a pretty penny.
One final note, Baby-girl: If you really knew that you were making a mistake when you walked down the aisle, but you were too scared to call it off because of all the money and the pomp and circumstance involved — as a woman, I get it; I really do. It takes a lot of courage to say, “I can’t go through with this; I’ve made a huge mistake.” If you’ve discovered he’s a serial killer or a pedophile or worse, then by all means get your ass out of Dodge, and I’ll be the first in line to hide you in my attic. But if you’ve done this for a publicity stunt as your former publicist, Jonathan Jaxson, has eluded to, or because you’ve just discovered Kris isn’t your fantasy Prince Charming, but just a dumb ol’ jock — girl, what credibility you had with me has just been shot to Hell.
After I sent that pissy note to Kim Kardashian, I realized there were a bunch of other people who needed to give me back the wedding presents I’d sent them because when I sent those items, it was in good faith, and they were supposed to stay married “until death did them part.” I decided to send out a bunch of “re-po” notes repossessing my wedding gifts from the most egregious marital felons. I didn’t give two-hoots about the gifts (they were already used or re-gifted on their part, anyway) but I wanted to make a point about how they had pissed me off.
Google Image/J. Lo, Marc Anthony, and children
Dear Jenny from the block and my main man M-A: Really? Seven years? Is that the best you can do here? Did you not learn from your other marriages? You both said you did when we chatted at your engagement party. Now, Jenny, you know I love you, baby. But I read online that you said, after leaving Marc Antony, in order for marriage to work, “You’ve got to love yourself first. And until you value yourself enough and love yourself enough to know that, you can’t really have a healthy relationship.” What kind of Scientology bullshit is that? You have to value each other enough that you choose each other over everything else – you have to both put each other first. Couldn’t you two have figured out how to cherish each other before the twins were born? Our children would like us to halfway have our shit together before we birth them so that we don’t mess up their lives, because contrary to popular belief, “the children will not be all right”— at least not without a bit of a struggle. Anyway, please send me back the ant farm WW and I gave you for a wedding present (the ants are probably dead, anyway).
Google Image/Al and Tipper Gore
Dear Al and Tipper: 40 years! F-O-R-T-Y Y-E-A-R-S! After forty years, unless you two were into some kinky shit you hadn’t told me about, or Al had turned into a wife beater, could you not have figured how to work this out? You’re saying that you just “drifted apart.” People don’t just drift apart after forty years. Al: Do you remember what you said on the Larry King show in 2002? “Well, we fell in love, and we’ve stayed in love, and we’ve worked very hard when there were hard times to work it out, and not that we ever thought about divorcing or anything like that. I don’t mean to imply that. I mean that I think people need to work it out.” So, “liar, liar, pants on fire,” what in the hell happened here? Good grief! I not only want my Ginsu knives back, but I want you to purchase me a new set ‘cause I know after forty years even Ginsu knives won’t be able to cut butter.
Google Image/Arnold Schwarzenegger
Arnold, Arnold, Arnold: What the fuck?! You are such a mangy dog — just downright nasty, dude! What kind of sorry-ass governor campaigns on a family values platform, “schtups” his maid in his house, and fathers a child with her, all the while keeping the baby a secret from his wife for thirteen years while the baby’s mother continues to scrub your floors and clean your nasty-ass toilets? And weren’t you the one who called out ‘single mothers’ as one of our biggest social problems when you were running for governor? Sheesh Louise, Arnold — you flushed twenty-five years of marriage down the proverbial toilet! Give me back my gold-plated “his and her” ThighMasters, today! On second thought, my girl, Maria, can keep hers, but I want yours back so that I can burn it. Eeuuw! “Hasta la vista, baby!”
IMP. NOTE: This is a satirical essay on marriage. I do not know the people listed above; I have no desire to know these people no matter how talented and intelligent some of them might be. The kind of people I wish I knew, keep eluding me – like Norma and Gordon Yeager.
Google Image/Norma and Gordon Yeager’s hands
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Yeager: May I call you by your first names: Norma and Gordon? I would have given just about anything to have known you. I read that you died the other day and I am so very sorry that I missed you. The Iowa paper said you had been married for 72 years when you got into that horrific car accident. You must be turning over in your graves when you hear that Kim and Kris are getting a divorce after only 72 days and you had been married for 72 years!
You were 94 years old, Gordon, and you were 90 years old, Norma, when you both died. Your children said that you both would tell anyone who would listen that you had to stay around for each other, because, as Mr. Yeager was fond of saying: “I can’t go until she does because I’ve got to stay here for her.” I’m so grateful that the hospital administration had the good sense to put you two together in the same room in adjacent beds in the intensive care unit. Had the staff not done that, your children would have missed something magnificent when you reached for each other’s hands in your semi-conscious states and held onto each other for dear life. Had you not been together at that crucial time, we all would have missed something gloriously spiritual when you died, Gordon, at 3:38 on October 19th, but your heart monitor still continued to produce a strong, consistent heartbeat. Then the nurses and doctors wouldn’t have seen something they’ve never encountered in their lives: your wife’s heartbeat pumping through your clasped hands, and her heartbeat pulsing through your body which caused your heart monitor to continue to register a steady beat even though you were dead. When you died, Mrs. Yeager, at 4:38 — exactly one hour after Mr. Yeager — the world lost a marriage that should have been celebrated on the front page of every magazine and newspaper, and should have headlined the evening news across the country. When one of your sons (Dennis) was interviewed about you, he said:
“I don’t believe there was a big
secret to their marriage. Sometimes one or the other would get mad but they
worked everything out.
In the end, they chose each other and that was it. They were committed.”
Norma and Gordon: When your children had you placed in the same coffin, holding hands, and then had you cremated and your ashes mixed together, I realized that I had encountered a marriage that was holy, and I wished WW and I had been a part of your lives.
I am discovering that there are other Yeagers out there (few and far between, but they are out there). I accidentally ran into a “Norma” the other day and her name is Tina from Interior Elements . She writes in her blog post “Married. . .” (married for 28 years): “Being married for a long time is a lot of work and eventually, when the expectations dwindle out of sheer mental exhaustion, you get to know the person you did not invent. Or tried to re-invent.” Yep, there is hope for us yet!
Google Image/Prince William and Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge
Dear Prince William and Your Royal Highness the Duchess of Cambridge: If you guys don’t go the distance, I’m giving up the ghost, and I’m demanding my velvet painting of Elvis back. Forewarned is forearmed!
Tomczyks: Keepin’ it real after 32 years
More marriages might survive if the partners realized that sometimes the better comes after the worse. ~Doug Larson
Love seems the swiftest but it is the slowest of all growths. No man or woman really knows what perfect love is until they have been married a quarter of a century. ~Mark Twain
I figure that the degree of difficulty in combining two lives ranks somewhere between rerouting a hurricane and finding a parking place in downtown Manhattan. ~Claire Cloninger, “When the Glass Slipper Doesn’t Fit and the Silver Spoon is in Someone Else’s Mouth”
People do not marry people, not real ones anyway; they marry what they think the person is; they marry illusions and images. The exciting adventure of marriage is finding out who the partner really is. ~James L. Framo, “Explorations in Marital & Family Therapy”
All text and photos by Eleanor and John Tomczyk © 2011 except where otherwise noted
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