I've been hearing alot of things, from alot of people these
days of late. Words of encouragement and pithy platitudes offered with good
intentions, of course, among other not so lovely, lingering lyrics of a tune
that tempts my soul to shrivel up and die. (Thanksssssss). Words wasted on a wandering gypsy
soul seeking only goodness, love and LIFE.
Anyway, I was told today that marriage (and monogamy for
that matter), for most men, is like the best slice of chocolate cake. At first
sample, it is sweet and satisfying and the best thing you have ever tasted. But
then, after having it every day, it becomes too sweet. Too boring with no
variety of flavor. Your tastebuds tame, accustomed to the offering. Bleh. So
you want different dessert...a new cake...hell, maybe a cookie, or in my case, he went for the HO-HOS (plural)....
But the way I see it, marriage (and hell yes, monogamy), is
like a whole helluva heapin' helping of oats. Steady. Steel Cut.
Stick-to-your-ribs. OATS. In the morning, they are there to get you started
with whole-grain goodness.....greeting you....warming you....sustaining and steeling
you for the start of the day, for the moment when you make your exit out into
the world, solo. And at night, they are there, they can take whatever form they
need to to meet you...muffins, wholegrain bread, a kind, nurturing dessert that doesn't drag you
down.
And just when you think maybe you could get tired of them,
oats can reinvent themselves. Add to them, bake, cook or stew them a
different way, they can adapt...with you, for you...inside of you. Oats.
Steady. Steel Cut. Stick-to-your-ribs. Oats.
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