Maybe Hockey Will Save Us
I think it's clear by now that I'm not entirely comfortable sharing any kind of detailed personal information. Really, past where I (generally) live, my age, my actual first name--it really is Pops... mom was both prescient and a sadist-- , my wife's age and occupation, how many kids I have and their ages... wow, you know what, I'm not as good at this as I thought. First thing in the morning I'm filing restraining orders against each and every one of you. Nothing personal. Just in case.

But since the tap is open and the warm, frothy personal-information is flowing I guess I can talk about what I wanted to talk about. It's somewhat more intensely personal than what you're used to, so prepare yourself.

Mrs. Pops and I have been having some pretty serious problems lately. I'm not sure what the problem is, but it's never been this bad. We started alot of petty bickering and sarcastic back-and-forth about a week ago. Nothing too intense or out of the ordinary for our house, really. We have three kids, she works long hours sometimes, so things get short every once in a while. Normally we weather these things pretty well.

For some reason, though, things have gotten progressively worse over the last week or so. Heavy sighs and rolled eyes gave way to muttering, then to cutting asides, then to open arguing, then to shouting, then finally, Monday night, I called her something I really shouldn't have. It wasn't my finest hour and I'm ashamed.

Since then it's been a stand-off of escalating passive-aggression. She took all the change out of the ashtray in my van, I "forgot" to tell her her mom called. She comes home later than necessary with no explanation, I "accidentally" leave the computer on with IE open to Match.com. From there it just got worse.

Over the last couple of days, as you can imagine, I've been getting desperate. I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out what the problem could be. Sure, things generally get a little testy over the holidays, but this is so obviously more than that.

I've even tried radio call-in advice shows, but they were no help. Maybe I'm listening to the wrong stations. All I really learned so far is that Vinny from San Pedro thinks I should take the Falcons plus the points over Carolina this weekend.

This needs a solution. I don't want to move out. I don't want to get divorced. I don't want to leave my kids. I don't want to wake up in the morning with my tongue tasting like bleach and bleeding from the rectum again. What could it be?

I'm feeling pretty good as I type this because I think I finally cracked it. Married people all over America, if you've been having similar problems you need to play close attention to this. It could save your marriage (not to mention the lowest 1/3 of your colon).

My problems started right around last Thursday. That's right. The same day the Canadian Supreme Court gave its blessing to gay marriage.

I take back everything I ever said about Southern rednecks, Ohio rednecks, Jerry Falwell, Sean Hannity and Ann Coulter. OK, maybe not Ann Coulter. The point is, they were absolutely right. Somehow--and I don't pretend to understand it--the express right of Canadian homos to marry one another is undermining the sanctity of my Godly heterosexual union.

The really shocking thing is I don't even know any Canadian homos. And yet somehow, they've completely ruined my otherwise happy marriage. The evidence is irrefutable: ever since their rights to marry were declared "Constitutional" (I put it in quotes because it's only the Canadian constitution, which also mandates every citizen of that frozen wasteland must consume 300 gallons of maple syrup every year. Think about that for a second) it's been absolute anarchy around here.

I can see it's not going to stop at destroying my marriage either. The whole edifice of public morality is starting to crumble right before my eyes. Freeway speed limits, for example, are being ignored with shocking regularity. Jaywalking is at epidemic levels. My large Cherry Coke from Del Taco the other day was like 90% ice. The girls in the Champagne Room at the Spearmint Rhino all of a sudden really mean it when they say "no touching". Dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!

And it's all because of Canadian gays trying to get married. It almost makes you want to become a Republican.

For me and Mrs. Pops, though, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I can't wait until she gets home and I can share the good news of my sudden insight. I'm hoping it will remind her of the early days of our relationship, when the only thing stronger than our common hatred of the gays was our shared, hysterical xenophobia. She won't know what to do with herself: should we hate them because they're gay or because they're Canadian? I guess it doesn't matter. It will just be us being the best us we can be. And that is an encouraging thought.



This post on the Narcissus Scale: 9.8 or 4.6 (depending on how you read it)


Pops

- posted by Pops @ 9:13 AM