Now I Know Why Women Are Angry

I've been slow catching on to things, I'll admit. My late wife Janet and I had a wonderful relationship. We talked about EVERYTHING. We knew what "intimacy" was and it was NOT what you do in the bedroom.
     She and I were so close we could communicate from across a room just by looking at each other. I knew pretty much what she wanted to eat, wine to drink, she knew the movies I liked, where to drive, sweaters to wear, sentences to finish. hand signals at parties. We knew everything about each other. There were no secrets. None.
     Jan died of cancer in Denver after 10 years of marriage. It took me years, but I finely stumbled out of it and moved on. Relocating to Oregon, years later, I met Sandi, and we married. 10 years later our marriage melted into the same kind of loving bond.
     Both women said the same thing. Other men generally are boobs. Most treat their women as possessions, as after-thoughts, and, at times "mattress-backs." Some marriages are clearly business deals, pre-nuptials signed before, during or right after the mattress gets blessed.
     Women initially are blinded by love, they admit, the men, later confessed are not. The initial signals are often overlooked: they open doors, buy fancy dinners, hold, hug kiss, flowers, that all soon disappear soon after marriage.
     Back to business. Late nights, business deals, working late nights, then when she complains, working late nights at home. " Pay attention to me," she complains. Then trouble ensues.
     Trouble in Paradise all started with a television series, a reality program called Divorce Wars, I watched it only once, featuring the story of the separation of the president of Tesla Motors founder and the hosing of his ex-wife in what was portrayed as a cheap-skate, vindictive battle royal of the super-rich husband dive-bombing his somewhat financially helpless ex-wife to the courtroom.
     She was so furious, gritting her teeth through clenched smiles as the cameras rolled, fighting off tears, who could blame her.
     I recalled an old friend from south Philadelphia, my boyhood home, who, going through his divorce asked his soon-to-be ex, " how much will make you happy?"  She answered him with a figure while sitting with him in their lawyer offices.
     He told his attorney, " double it."  Everyone in the room jumped.
     " I don't want anyone every complaining that I didn't treat her well, after this is over, " he said. He smiled and left, and never heard a bad word since.
     That was the only kind divorce I had ever heard of since.
###