The world according to Old BC
READERS KNOW The Old Ball and Chain often hijacks this space and insists on boring readers with her version of ‘truth’.
Here she comes again! I tried to stop her, but the shack le attached to my ankle ensured her escape. As it happens, the twoth of March was her 36th wedding anniversary and the 26th of March will be her 39th birthday (again), so she feels compelled to publish her account of the historical record. The world according to Old BC:
“Ladies, I’m speaking especially to you and to any of the male species willing and able to summon the common sense required to listen and learn. I’ve already started my 37th year of marriage to Old Grey Balls, but we’ve been ‘together’ for almost 40, and I’ve known him (no, not like THAT; I was an innocent young girl on my wedding day, wink, wink) forever. So trust me when I tell you that he has fooled you into thinking he’s some sort of wise man. Wise? Hah! KMT!
“First off, if I hadn’t been there to guide and direct his every move, nobody would have heard of Old GB. For example, he’s famous for dressing casually and wearing loafers. Well, take it from me. It’s I who has ensured that his ‘casual’ moves towards (never arrives at) ‘casually elegant’. The REAL reason he wears l oafers is he’s too sedentary to bend down and tie laces.
“What’s more, the word ‘loafers’ describes him sooooooooo well. In his life, he’s done enough idling for two fully grown men and one opossum. If it wasn’t for me yanking him away from his race book, bridge/domino tabl, and hifi, he’d NEVER do anything approaching work, which, for him, is a four-letter word.
“Do I get any thanks? Any respect? Of course not! Wherever I go, I hear (mainly from women), ‘How can you let that man abuse you so in public? Old Ball and Chain? What’s wrong with you? You must stand up for womanhood!” Sigh. Womanhood? Firstly, as Old GB is certain to remind me when he sees this, that’s an oxymoron. Second, why? Because THIS is what true love looks like. It doesn’t resemble a Margaret Mitchell novel or a Meg Ryan movie.
“Wait. What’s happening? Oh, for God’s sake, Old GB is interrupting again!”
GR: Apologies to Sheldon Harnick (lyrics) and Jerry Bock (music) for minor adjustments. None to Old BC, whose insane rant is comprehensively denied! Tevye: Do you love me? Golde: Do I what?
Tevye: Do you love me? Golde: Do I love you? With our daughters getting married and this trouble in the
town, you’re upset. You want out. Go inside. Go lie down. Maybe it’s indigestion. Tevye: Golde, I’m asking you a question. Do you love me? Golde: You’re a fool!
Tevye: I know. But do you love me?
Golde: Do I love you?
For 36 years, I’ve washed your clothes, cooked your meals, cleaned your house, given you children, milked the cow. After 36 years, why talk about love right now?”
Old BC: “What a man hard to shut up! Look here, ladies, WE know there’s no such thing as gender equality. WE know which gender is superior. THEY don’t know it, and, if we use our smarts and make ourselves indispensable, we’ll keep it that way. So for 36 years I’ve played the role of an unpaid slave. If anybody deserves reparations, it’s me! Not to mention an Oscar!
“But the result is Old GB does as he’s told. Whenever I see male ego (the most dangerous weapon of mass destruction) raising its ugly head (ladies, stop! That was NOT a pun), I stifle it i mmediately. Whenever I see him drifting off the straight and narrow, I corral him and ANYBODY involved as coconspirator or agitator. I run our house. He runs around it (when permitted). Visitors know to pay homage to the Bigger Boss. If they slip, they slide. Remember, ladies, if it’s ‘love’ you’re seeking, THIS is your responsibility or you’ll be living in a fairy tale (some literally there already but don’t know) blissfully ignorant of what ‘true love’ is doing until too late.”
GR: Old BC is clearly showing signs of dementia. She’s channelling Golde, the wife of Tevye, the milkman, from seminal Broadway production Fiddler on the Roof. Ignore her. True love happens when two people’s idio(t)syncrasies are compatible. They fall into mutual quirkiness and call it ‘love’. Darn, she sent her eldest to summon me. Gotta run!
Peace and love.