Recently my book, Your Beautiful Wedding on Any Budget, made an Amazon list of top "money-saving" book titles. Well . . . whoopie!
Lately I have been stretching my essay-writing prowess back into the bridal/wedding fold (along with material on marriage and budgeting, too), and some of these will soon be hitting magazine paydirt (though not much pay for my dirt). Still, I like offering what I can and helping younger people get off to a great start in marriage.
God knows they need the warning! Danger, Will Robinson . . . Danger!
In another 18 months my wife and I will be celebrating 30 years of marriage (Lord willin' and the creek don't rise). But those first years were LEAN. Our first two years, for example, we existed on spaghetti (not with sauce and meat, mind you, just the pasta). I recall one or two pizzas, which we ordered under financial duress and parlayed into four or five meals. We also fixed our cars with duct tape and wire, shopped at Goodwill, and found our entertainment in a small 12-inch black-and-white television with built-in rabbit ears (all of which we continue to use today!) That's right, I still duct tape my cars, shop at Goodwill, and last month we pulled the plug on our basic TV package and returned to old-fashioned rabbit ear reception.
Suffering of this magnitude has set the tone for our marriage, and I've been suffering ever since. My constitution is iron-clad. I can take anything. I can suffer through days--even weeks--of not speaking to my wife (and be thankful for it). I can go days--even weeks--without a proper meal, subsisting on boxes of year-old Ju-Ju-Fruits and a handful of cashews. I can send all of my salary to institutions of higher learning in order to pay for my son's education and his robust meal plan that includes caviar and an all-you-can eat salad bar with chick peas. I can save money by turning out all of the lights in the house and making romantic advances toward a woman who is already asleep (thereby increasing my chances of success exponentially).
This is marriage and I'm glad to write about it.
I do hope that brides will buy my book (heck, buy a dozen!), as this title will indeed demonstrate how a marriage can be built on a foundation of boredom and suffering . . . and still be successful. Anything else a bride wants to know, she can ask my wife.
I'll wake her if you call.
Lately I have been stretching my essay-writing prowess back into the bridal/wedding fold (along with material on marriage and budgeting, too), and some of these will soon be hitting magazine paydirt (though not much pay for my dirt). Still, I like offering what I can and helping younger people get off to a great start in marriage.
God knows they need the warning! Danger, Will Robinson . . . Danger!
In another 18 months my wife and I will be celebrating 30 years of marriage (Lord willin' and the creek don't rise). But those first years were LEAN. Our first two years, for example, we existed on spaghetti (not with sauce and meat, mind you, just the pasta). I recall one or two pizzas, which we ordered under financial duress and parlayed into four or five meals. We also fixed our cars with duct tape and wire, shopped at Goodwill, and found our entertainment in a small 12-inch black-and-white television with built-in rabbit ears (all of which we continue to use today!) That's right, I still duct tape my cars, shop at Goodwill, and last month we pulled the plug on our basic TV package and returned to old-fashioned rabbit ear reception.
Suffering of this magnitude has set the tone for our marriage, and I've been suffering ever since. My constitution is iron-clad. I can take anything. I can suffer through days--even weeks--of not speaking to my wife (and be thankful for it). I can go days--even weeks--without a proper meal, subsisting on boxes of year-old Ju-Ju-Fruits and a handful of cashews. I can send all of my salary to institutions of higher learning in order to pay for my son's education and his robust meal plan that includes caviar and an all-you-can eat salad bar with chick peas. I can save money by turning out all of the lights in the house and making romantic advances toward a woman who is already asleep (thereby increasing my chances of success exponentially).
This is marriage and I'm glad to write about it.
I do hope that brides will buy my book (heck, buy a dozen!), as this title will indeed demonstrate how a marriage can be built on a foundation of boredom and suffering . . . and still be successful. Anything else a bride wants to know, she can ask my wife.
I'll wake her if you call.
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