Fringeville #96, January 12 2014

The sad state of the typical domestic American male

I'm trying to figure out exactly when it happens: The moment when a man transforms from that perfect creature adored by his woman into a certifiable dumbass.

Is it right after the honeymoon? Probably not. Five years later? Ten?

I don't know, but it creeps up suddenly. One night you go to bed king of the castle and the next day you awaken as the village ...make that domicile ...dumbass.

In my life, here are just a few of the things I did on a limited formal education:

• Worked as a newspaper correspondent
• Ran my own business
• Taught myself programming
• Taught myself AS400 management
• Wrote and performed music, even recording a session on local radio.
• Wrote a novella and a number of short stories.
• Taught myself basic bookkeeping.
• Ran for office.
• Managed a Congressional campaign.

The list goes on. And it's all for naught because most days it is pretty much driven home that I'm a dumbass.

D-U-M-B-A-S-S

It may sound like I'm whining here, but I'm not. This is what happens to all American males at some mysterious point after they tie the knot. Their significant other, who loves them to death, realizes that she's somehow gone and married a dumbass.

I am not unique.

I've done considerable research, and I've found some of the greatest minds in history were, in fact, dumbasses. I've uncovered some diary entries by famous and brilliant men.

Let's review:

Aristotle

Tuesday: I found myself contemplating the nature of the Universe. I have found there to be five elements: Earth, Water, Air ..I must set aside my quill a moment. I have, it seems, left my robe upon the floor and have most stupidly not cleaned river mud from my sandals and have tracked it through the library.

Wednesday: I continue my analysis of the Universe. These are the elements necessary for existence: Earth, Water, Air, Fire and  ...here I once again take my leave. I put the crockery away for Herpyllis this morning, and did not stack them properly. Big ones on the bottom, smaller ones atop those. I just jammed them all in there higgity piggity. Well, one fell and smashed, a gift from her mother, and I will be sleeping on the veranda again.

Thursday: I must write quickly. I've not sorted laundry correctly. The elements are Earth, Water, Air, Fire and the Aether. Oh! She calls! Perhaps there is a sixth element, Nagathium.

* * *

Lincoln

Sunday:  I continue to work on what I feel must be a perfect speech for my trip to Gettysburg. This morning I called my dearest Mary to the study. "My love," I asked, "What sounds sweetest to your ears? '87 years ago' or 'Four score and 7 years ago?' To which she said, "What would sound sweetest to me, dear husband, is the sound of your remembering once ...just friggin' once ...to put the lid down on the toilet."

* * *

Einstein

Monday: I am so close! E=MC ...MC ...drat! Mileva beckons. She found the cigar hole I burned into the sofa.

Tuesday: E=MC. Maybe that's all there is. Just E=MC. I thought I was on the verge of a breakthrough, but Mileva lectured me once again on how to put away her hatboxes. Round ones on the left side of the closet ..or is it the right? I can never remember. She's right. I'm a nincompoop. Anyway, round on one side of the closet, square ones on the other  Not all muddled together. "Squared away," she calls it. Squared. Squared. Hmmm...

* * *

So boys, just accept it. We're dumbasses. But we're in good company. Gotta run ...I put the dishes away wrong again. I've mixed coffee mugs with glasses. Dumbass...

* * *