BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Well, to some extent they go hand in hand. Love, lust, and all points in between. You start out in lust and as you get to know one another the lust becomes love, and if you are lucky, they blend together to become this Love/Lust amalgam that carries on throughout your relationship and/or marriage.

But, before you get all excited or start calling me Doctor Phil, I should point out that I’m actually here to talk to you about dominos again. And, no, still not the pizza.

You see, I’ve been married to EK now for Twen-koff-koff yea-koff…Okay…for real, 21+ years, and we “co-habitated” for a year prior to that. So, we’ve been ’round the block in the ol’ Radio Flyer a couple of times – always with me pulling as she beats me with a buggy whip and screams “faster, faster…watch out for that crack in the sidewalk…slow down…careful around that turn…faster, faster!” But, as usual, that’s one of those “other” blogs (actually, they probably wouldn’t even let me post it here…but I digress…)

My point being, I’m no stranger to the relationship game, marriage game, whatever… Now, let’s be clear. I am in no way claiming to have all the answers. Hell, I don’t have ANY of the answers. I just pull the wagon and do what I’m told. I’m merely pointing out that I do have at least a passing familiarity with interpersonal relationships between two folks who make up a couple.

Since the EK and I have been together for better than two decades, just like any other couple we have settled into some behavioral patterns. This is not to say that love and lust are gone. The love is there stronger than it was in the beginning, and growing daily. Lust…well…can’t really get into that here (LOL)… But, like I said, as with any couple, patterns will emerge. Ways of interacting. It’s just all part of life. Therefore, a half hour or so ago when I nonchalantly and jokingly said to my wife, “what are you making for dinner tonight?” her response came as no surprise, and the dominos began to teeter…

I suppose you might need a bit of background first…You see, my wife almost never makes dinner. In fact, whenever I go on tour for a week or two at a time, I spend the week prior to my departure working in the kitchen – cooking, packaging, and freezing meals in reusable “freezer to microwave” containers so that I know she and my daughter will eat something other than crackers and yogurt. It’s not that she’s lazy. She’s about as far from lazy as you can get… Hell, I wish I had her energy… It is just that she really dislikes cooking. With a passion it seems. Me, on the other hand, having grown up in a family with diners and restaurants, I absolutely love to cook. So, this makes at least part of the division of labor in our home a no brainer. Put simply, the kitchen is my domain.

But, like I said at the outset, there are dominos involved here, and again, I’m not talking about pizza…even though we are on the subject of food.

To inspect this particular dot-covered game piece we have to turn back the clock to a time EARLY in our marriage. Back when, even though we had dated for some time, then cohabitated for an entire year, and then even been legally married in the eyes of the law for a couple more years, we were still in that state of semi-honeymoon. Not the face-sucking-sex-in-every-room-with-reckless-abandon phase, mind you. Just the hyperactive love-lust combination where you want to impress your partner because you love them so much – and again, I want to be clear on this impressing thing – I’m not talking about dressing up in a negligee and posing next to the bedroom door while batting eyelashes (come to think of it, that’s a pretty good domino too, but I probably wouldn’t fit in that negligee anymore…just kidding… I mean just kidding about the negilgee, not the fitting into it part… you know what I mean…dammit, I’ve never owned a negligee, so just stop it!)

Back to the story… sheesh…ya’ bunch of weirdos…

So, in this particular instance we are talking about dinner. You see, way back when, during the days of hyperlovelustwhatever, the evil redhead decided to make dinner. (They “make” dinner here in the north, as opposed to fixing dinner, like it’s supposed to be done) Now, not being a big fan of the kitchen she wasn’t about to get herself into a major project (I’d like to take a moment to point out that it isn’t that she can’t cook, because she can. It’s simply that she hates cooking.) But still, she intended to “make” dinner. And, so she did. Cheesy tuna and noodles Tuna Helper^TM. Now, before you think I am about to complain, guess again. I happen to like tuna casserole, and mac n’ cheese, and yes, cheesy tuna and noodles. It was all good.

So, my lovely bride served up a big, steaming dish of Tuna Helper^TM, happy with herself and confident in the fact that she had done something nice for me that I would appreciate. And, I did. Harboring the same hyperlovelustwhatever as she, I sat at the table and shoveled in the Tuna Helper^TM while smiling and telling her how wonderful it was, as well as how much I appreciated her fixing dinner. In fact, I was so overwhelmed with hyperlovelustwhatever that I didn’t even hint at the fact that there was something terribly, and fundamentally wrong with the meal. Not something that would make you ill, mind you, but something fundamentally wrong, nonetheless, given what it was supposed to be. The meal went on, the dishes were washed, and well, I can’t really remember what else happened that night, but I suspect that since we were working on remodeling the house at the time we were probably both exhaused and just went to bed then straight to sleep – none of the “not so blog safe” material to worry about this time.

So, everything was good. I had done my duty and nothing need ever be said about the problem with the meal. The EK was happy, I was happy, and even the cats were as happy as cats can be.

The next day, however, it became apparent that my plan to protect the evil redhead from personal embarrassment had gone terribly awry. At this point I cannot remember exactly what I was doing at the moment of realization. I do, however, have vivid recollection of EK walking into the room with an unopened can of tuna in her hand, which she had found sitting on the kitchen counter right where she had left it the night before. With a look of realization flooding her face, she stared at me and stated, as much as asked, complete with a matter-of-fact incredulity, “I forgot to put the tuna in the Tuna Helper last night, didn’t I?”

I could not tell a lie, but I also didn’t want to add insult to injury. I simply replied, “No worries. It was really good macaroni and cheese.”

The domino in this case? Well, it didn’t have to knock much over. You see, this afternoon when I jokingly asked my wife what she would be “making” for dinner, without missing a beat she replied, “Hamburger Helper without the hamburger.”

We’re older now, and while we still have that hyperlovelustwhatever thing going on, I’ve learned I don’t really have to suffer (unless I want to, that is, but again, different blog…)

I think I’ll just go ahead and “make” dinner tonight.

More to come…

Murv

Okay, faithful readers of my ramblings, time for another episode of Just the FAQ’s, with your host…Me!

(Aren’t you just all atwitter?)

So, let’s just jump right into it…

The first letter reads: Dear MR. I recently broke up with my girlfriend and now I really want to get back together with her. I just know that if she heard “Witchy Woman” on your show with a dedication from me, that she would take me back with open arms and let bygones be bygones. I would be forever grateful if you could do that for me. Signed, Heartbroken in Hoboken…

All right, H in H, let me see if I can help you out here…Our first long distance dedication is…

Had ya’ goin’ there for a minute, didn’t I? (Oh, come on, humor me…)

So, anyway, on to the FAQ’s!

1) Every time I log on to Myspace you are online. Are you addicted or what? Shouldn’t you be writing or something?

No, I’m not addicted, and me being continuously online is nothing more than a cruel illusion. Remember, I used to be a computer guru before I became a scary writer guy for a living. I have way too many computers around here, and at any given time during the day I might check in on Myspace using any one of them, depending on what room I happen to be in at the time. But, also remember that I am old, so sometimes I forget to log out. Actually, most of the time I forget to log out…Soooo, it’s not unusual for at least one computer here in the house to be logged into the account 24/7, thereby creating the illusion that I need neither sleep, nor time to do anything else.

And, yes, I should be writing or something…

2) Who is the leggy babe on your myspace backgrounds? Can I get her number?

The “leggy babe” (and yes, I agree, she is a leggy babe, which is probably why her legs are featured prominently in most of the backgrounds where she appears) …Anyway, said “leather clad vixen” is a friend and part-time model by the name of Wendi O’Brien. She posed for the covers of Love Is The Bond and All Acts Of Pleasure, as well as the promotional posters for both books. There is actually an article about the LITB photo shoot and an interview with the cover artist, Johnathan Minton, in one of my earlier snail-mail newsletters.

And, no, you may not have her number. Not from me at any rate. Besides, you don’t really want it, trust me. She’s even meaner than she looks.

On an interesting note: In keeping with the theme of the trilogy, the cover of The End Of Desire will also feature Miranda as its focal point, however, Wendi will not be modeling for that photo this time. Reknowned Pagan Artist, Mickie Mueller has been retained to actually pose for it, and the photo session is occuring later this month (Feb 2007). As usual, well known (and very bizarre) graphic artist, Johnathan Minton, owner of Woodblock Graphic Design, is producing the artwork for the cover and will be directing the photo shoot.

3) Do you listen to music when you write, and if so what do you listen to?

That largely depends on what I am writing. Sometimes I do the quiet thing, other times I have music blaring. However, I actually do have music playing most of the time. My selections are usually directly relative to the type of scene I am writing–for instance, when writing some of the more intense stuff I might be listening to such artists as Black Sabbath or Metallica. If the passage/chapter I am working on is a bit more mellow then you might find Enya or Loreena McKennitt in the CD Tray.

4) What does the M. R. stand for?

Mister.

Well, not really, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so best we leave it at that. Suffice it to say, my name actually ends in a Jr. My father was, of course, Sr. Soooo, there were two of us hung with the name.

5) Out of all of your books, which one is your favorite?

The one I am working on at the time. Really. Truth is they are all a labor of love, and in a sense that question is almost like asking a parent which of their children they love the most. Even so, as much as I am fond of all of my books, my favorite is always the one I am working on at the time.

6) What brand of cigars do you smoke?

The same brand as Rowan. CAO’s preferably the MX2, but I’ll set fire to, and puff on, just about anything CAO produces. I also enjoy Santa Damiana’s, Cruz Real’s, and Arturo Fuente’s among others.

As to any other specifics, I am a fan of Maduro wrappers and a fairly good size ring gauge (52 and above), although I definitely won’t turn down smaller gauges, or EMS wrappers. Hell, I won’t turn down a free cigar at all…

Okee-dokee…there you have it for this episode…Hope it was enlightening, and if not, at least mildly entertaining.

MR