Archive for July 29th, 2008


I Don’t See My Wife Too Often Since She Got Famous

I like to think I have a good marriage. My wife and I still have a lot in common and we rarely fight. I suppose I don’t have anything to complain about. I do tend to miss her company, though, especially since she got famous. I don’t see her as often as I used to.

When she’s not being jetted around the world for public appearances, she stays at her ranch in Southwestern Montana. She has a stable of five fine horses. When we talk, she likes to talk mainly about the horses.

“We call the white one Chalky,” she’ll say. Or, “I rode Butter Pecan for two straight hours yesterday.” She loves horses.

I remain in a nice little studio apartment in Portland. My bicycle barely fits through the door, but I don’t want to leave it outside. I wouldn’t say I live in the bad part of town, but my bike is literally the most valuable object I own (excluding my gold capped tooth). I wouldn’t want it to get stolen.

I have my day job, welding the T-bar onto a component crossarm for the Industrial Unified Electrical Company. It’s physically demanding work. Fortunately, I live only a block away so I don’t have to go far to work the swing shift. When my wife comes to visit, she stays at a hotel downtown.

Why do I keep my daytime job at the factory? We decided from the beginning to keep our finances separate. We each keep a bank account and retirement plan. Of course, I don’t have a retirement plan, but I’m always hoping that she will help with the medical bills if they get too big. She would never let me get into more debt than I could handle.

My wife is a loving person and I’m happy for her success. Her handlers won’t let her talk about her marriage publicly; they say it takes away from her feminine mystique. Otherwise, I would have been her date to the Academy Awards last year. She has worked with some of the greatest thinkers of our time: Rem Koolhas, I.M. Pei, Stella McCartney, Richard Dawkins, Nelson Mandela, Isabelle Allende, and Norah Jones are but a few of the luminaries in my wife’s long list of collaborators.

Sometimes we talk about our future: growing old together, watching autumn leaves fall from the park trees, making soup for dinner. We will have many happy times together. It helps to think of the future, when maybe she won’t be as famous as she is now. She’ll have more time to spend with her husband, the non-famous factory worker.

In spite of our distance, I always wish the best for my wife. I hope her brilliance will illuminate the entire world.