My Boyfriends

In no particular order:

1. Russell Brand (British comedian, seen in the movies "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" and "Bedtime Stories"): He's just so crazy sexy and edgy and confident.
2. Duane "The Rock" Johnson: He's gorgeous and sweet.
3. Doug Fabrizio (NPR radio guy out of Salt Lake City): He always reads the books his guests are shilling and asks insightful questions. Also, in conversation (with his radio guests, not with me), he takes a moment before he speaks, because (unlike me) he doesn't confuse "listening" with "waiting."
4. Jeff Bridges: Such charisma is breathtaking.
5. Keith Partridge (not David Cassidy, though): My first true love. I cannot speak more about it.

My girls get crazy when I refer to these men as my boyfriends. "But you like Daddy more, right?" is the common refrain. I'm not sure if I actually do like Daddy more, but at least I know him, which is always helpful in a relationship. More importantly, Bill (aka Daddy) is excellent first-husband material. We are truly yin yang. I'm verbal, he's mathematical. I'm, let's say, relaxed; he's industrious. I'm frugal; he's (because I like the way this word sounds) spendy. I like to sit; he likes to move. I'm very much the mother/nurturer; he's very much the father/protector. Being so different means we can fill in each other's gaps, creating a whole for our children. This also means we don't have too much in common. (Though I do like Dr. Phil's answer to that complaint - "You share children and a house! What more do you want in common?" - comforting, even if it comes from such a pompous windbag.)

I've been noticing that second marriages, entered after the children are grown, are often between yin and yin (not counting, of course, the trophy wife thing), and these marriages seem very companionable. Without the imperative of providing that balance of differences to the children, it's time to kick back with a spouse not so different, and lose all the drama that comes from being opposites. Plus, since the husband and wife have their own kids, no spouse can credibly accuse the other of having wrecked them.

Here's where my friend Mary would squint in incredulity and wonder why I'd want to be with someone just like me, instead of with someone who would challenge me in new directions and remind me that my perspective isn't the only one. (My answer, of course, is that I've always preferred the easy way out.) Since I know how much divorce hurts even grown children, I'd never really try to go for the easy marriage anyway. And my survival mechanism knows that, without someone like Bill in my life, I'd get bedsores from the couch (couchsores?). Plus, I love him.

Still, all of the above is up for grabs if Russell, Duane, Doug, Jeff, or Keith ever come calling.