Where is the Romance?
A few years ago, the Black-Eyed Peas asked: “Where’s the love?” Today I ask, “Where’s the romance?”
It is a fact universally accepted by man that the older you get, the more the rosy tint on your glasses fades. We start out as English majors with minors in theatre and French and end up double majors in English and Communication for practicality sakes. The American Dream becomes an accepted bit of mythology. And there are always more dirty dishes.
Things are pretty darn good with Andy and I. The Shack is a cozy happy place. We share the grocery bill and we’re both thinking in “long haul” terms. So when I was at home yesterday, I asked my family what the point was of getting married. “Well,” said my father, “you get a tax break.”
Yesterday as I drove to town on a grocery run, I listened to MPR’s Kerry Miller speaking with a financial expert. As they discussed the merits of homeownership and the various savings options for retirement, my head started to swim. I may be only 24 (going on 25), but if I plan to follow through with this whole self-employment that means all those yucky decisions about health care and retirement come straight down to . . . me.
I live in the woods living a life that the majority of the Twin Cities metropolis population seems to think they would very much like to lead. The issue is that when many people used to the city life come up here to live out the dream, they often find themselves uncomfortably removed from convenience and quality culture offerings like theatre and ethnic food. Newcomers can be quick to point out the shortcomings in the way the area’s run. Sure it’s dumb to only have one day a year when you can dispose of your electronics and yeah, the county roads probably could use a tad more salt in the winter. That doesn’t mean that the locals won’t resent the suggestion and be loath to change. After all, if we change, who’s to say that we won’t lose what makes us unique? What if the unromantic reality is actually the key to the region’s romance?
I had an early morning of it today and got up before six to get to work on the writing. I have got to get through chapter twelve before it kills me. I’ve figured out what needs to happen in the next chapter to keep up the tension and interest during the currently muddling middle, but I’m struggling to get too terribly excited about the necessary framework of chapter twelve. No more excuses. It has to get done before work today.
The birds are flocking at the feeders today: goldfinches, redpolls, pine grosbeaks, chickadees and the lone hairy woodpecker.
I’m in the midst of baking a big batch of bread. I’m attempting to get all aspects of my schedule under my control and I’m hoping that they’ll be enough bread that I won’t have to do this again for a while.
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