Day Six

Day 6

So far the marriage seems to be going pretty well.  Ann has not given me the iceberg treatment yet and she still attributes my insensitive moments to stupidity rather than a desire to systematically ruin her life.  However, I recognize that we have not yet been faced with any major adversities. 

In the marriage service they talk about “for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health”, and all that stuff.  You’re standing up there thinking “Yea, whatever—we’re not sick.  Can we get this over with and get some champagne?”  But then it hits you.  Bad stuff could happen.  What would we do?  I am coming up with a list to go over with Ann on the 12 hour drive on the way home.  I am starting with “what would happen if I came home every night and sat on the couch in my underwear, scratching myself inappropriately while drinking beer and watching sports?”  We took no specific marriage vow on this one and I am interested in her thoughts.  I do best with clear boundaries. 

Once again we woke up to beautiful weather despite a weather forecast that suggested the world was going to come to an end.  We took Daisy on a walk (she walked, we rode our bikes) around the island.  She seems very happy here—good smells, no cars and a great place to sleep under the bed.

We then saddled up for a bicycle ride to Woods Hole.  There is a beautiful bicycle path near the island causeway that is built on an old railroad right of way that goes east to Woods Hole (the end of this part of the Cape) and west to who-knows-where.  The path goes along Nantucket Sound, salt marshes, forests, and through a couple of towns on its way. 

We got to Woods Hole and walked around taking in the sights.  Woods Hole is one of the big ferry terminals for Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard (we went in and out of Hyannis which is up the coast a bit).  As we were walking by the ferry terminal, I heard someone say “John Mueller??”  It was an old high school classmate of mine, Jim McClure, who I hadn’t seen in almost 30 years. He was on his way to Martha’s Vineyard with some friends.  Sadly, Jim told me had cancer and, although he is undergoing treatment, it sounds as though the long term prognosis is not great.  Nonetheless, he had the most upbeat, positive attitude you could imagine.  In another odd twist of fate, he happened to be with parents of one of my daughter Felice’s high school friends and classmates from Pomfret School, the Anicellis. 

After catching up with Jim, we hopped back on our bikes and rode back to West Falmouth on the bike path.  We rode exactly 20 miles total (Ann claimed that we were riding into the wind both ways).  We walked down to the community dock with Daisy and I took a swim.  Right when we got to the dock, the long-promised rain finally arrived.  With a vengeance. 

The afternoon rain condemned us to indoor activities so we hopped in the car and went into Falmouth and had lunch at an Irish pub.  After lunch we came back and curled up with our books.  I am reading the “Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” books.  Ann feels I am too focused on my book.  She reminds me that soon the book will be over but the marriage will go on.  Forever.  And ever.  This sounded like a threat.

Now that we are married I suspect that Ann, like many wives, is planning to change and improve her husband (like, for example getting him to pay more attention to her and less to his book).  The husband, like the proverbial frog in the pot, does not recognize the changes going on around him (i.e., the water is slowly getting hotter) and eventually is cooked (the frog literally, the husband figuratively).  I am doing my best to show no signs of improvement in the hope that she will quickly tire of this game and focus her attention on something more constructive.

We went back into Falmouth for dinner.  Tried to get a table at a place that my cousins had recommended called the Glass Onion.  There was a 30 minute wait and no bar so we bolted for an Italian place down the street where we got the last table.  We were surprised that in the worst recession of our lifetimes, in the off-season, the restaurants on Cape Cod are packed.

As we went to bed, I began to think about the backlog that is inevitably building up at work.  All good things must come to an end and soon we will be heading back to Cleveland to face the music.  More importantly, though, I went to bed thinking about my friend Jim McClure and how he is facing his own mortality with such grace.  He has been forced to look at what is and isn’t important and is making the most of it.  It is a good life lesson.