Pockets of Love

She Said

Are you related to a kangaroo somewhere down the line?
You cram so much "stuff" in your pockets that you bulge
in all directions and then you ask me to get out my
trusty sewing machine and fix your torn pockets like
new again. It's impossible to sew on fabric that doesn't
exist. You probably carry four heavy chains of keys
(and I bet you don't even know what some of them go to),
a trifold wallet ( I've bought you billfold ones that
don't get so fat but you conveniently lose them) receipts
from years past (can't throw anything away), calling cards
that could be filed elsewhere for easier reference, candy,
comb, two cell phones, glasses, chewing gum, and a variety
of pens. Meanwhile, you ask me to put a few things in my
purse for you such as extra glasses, drink packets, Advil,
hand sanitizer, stain remover, lint brush, and camera.
So here we come down the street with me following ten
steps behind you like Attila the Hun with my backpack
so laden with "stuff" that I can hardly walk.
I have two words for you...man purse.


He Said

I should talk about all the junk you carry in your handbag.
But I won't. I am too much of a gentleman.
If I did have a bag like yours , that weighs over 75 lbs,
you would never have to fix another pocket for
my pants. As it is today in our small city, most men are
carrying a wallet, bi-fold or tri-fold, not a man purse ,
and only carry the essential items including money to
buy you dinner each night and to pay for anything we do on a date.

I could carry my personal items in my glove box in my car
and change it out if I drive my other car or we take your car,
or we ride in our friends car to go out to eat.(with money
kept in my wallet). Now that I realize that the THREE times
in ten years that I have ask you to sew up my pockets has
been an extreme hardship on your daily life, I will do my
best to avoid asking you to do such a difficult and time
consuming job ever again.
I guess I could ask my mother to sew them up, who I might
add never complained one time, and always welcomed her son
with open arms whenever he needed a helping hand in any situation.
Yes , I agree you are not my mom, but don't you think
that every man is looking for a woman who treats her man
like his mother treated him? Maybe it is just me and you
are probably right that I took advantage of you on this
“sewing my pocket thing”. Next time just remind me to
give them to my Mother.
Did I happen to mention she never complains?

Romance ...In the Beginning

She Said He Said August 2009 Romance…In the beginning.
Evince Magazine

She Said

When I woke up this morning I started thinking about you.

Before your ego jumps off the scale,

let me finish. I started thinking about how romantic you

use to be. I mean, you love me and I love you

and all that, but what exactly happens over time when the

romantic gestures that you made in the past

become old hat? Why can't you be romantic like you were

when we first started dating? The first time

you came to my house you brought me flowers and sent me

love notes almost daily. How long has it

been since you sent me a romantic card to tell me how

much you care? You called once or twice a day

when I lived in North Carolina. Have you forgotten an

$800 phone bill one month? You use to drive

down to Greenville on Wednesday’s at 5 pm to take me

to dinner. That was a 3 hour drive for a 2 hour

dinner and a 3 hour drive back home. What about that

internet arrangement you made with WBTM so

that my family and friends from all over the United

States could hear you propose to me on the radio?

That was beautiful and made me cry. Don't get me wrong,

I have not forgotten all the things you have

done for me over the years and the times you have

whisked me off to New York or the beach . I

appreciate those excursions and since you were going

anyway I just tagged along. (Just kidding. You

begged me to go every time). Don't even get me started

on kissing. Now, Sophie my poodle, gets

more kisses than I do, but unlike her, I don’t leave

a puddle on the floor when you kiss me!




He Said

 
I’ll give you this, when you get wound up on a subject

you go for the jugular. Let's look at this
 
so called problem that you have with our romance, or

lack of. When I came to Greenville, N.C.,
 
you were sitting on the couch, dressed to the nines,

not a hair out of place, smelling like a rose, and
 
a candlelight dinner was prepared with fresh flowers

on the table. The night was not only romantic,
 
but everlasting. You even gave me a handkerchief soaked

in the perfume you were wearing that night
 
for me to take with me on the 3 hour drive back home.

What a pleasant reminder of the evening!
 
Today when I come to your house after work, I don't have

the long drive; I don't have to call long
 
distance to tell you I am coming over. Since I see you

everyday, I just feel you know I care about
 
you without bringing flowers or sending a card. Now compared

to the first days of dating and today,
 
what do I get? I come to your door, I let myself in, the

dog barks for my attention, so I give her a kiss.
 
I holler out for you and you yell back that you are in

the basement, your hair is a wreck, you are

sweating, and  you say don't touch me or you’ll get wet.

You have on old sweat pants and t-shirt. That’s

a far cry from being all dolled up and waiting for me at

the door with open arms. You suggest I go buy

a pizza for supper since you are so caught up in your work. 

Of course you can't go to a movie tonight

because you have papers to grade or you need to paint

the kitchen.

Where in that description did you find room for me to be romantic?
 
No, I think you need to start a new revolution with your

women friends. How about the “Preservation of Keeping Romance

in My Relationship” ? You could start with greeting me
 
at the door, tea in hand, dinner on the table, dressed to

the nines, smelling like perfume
 
instead of paint thinner, and a desire to lead me to

places I have never known before.
 
What a fantasy....I'll run on down to the pizza parlor now...

Honey Darling Dear.

Stuck in a Food Rut

She Said He Said July 2009 Evince

She Said

Life is too short already and the other day

I just happen to mention that it would be nice

to go to some new restaurant. I didn't really

have anything in mind, just somewhere new for

something different.

I knew just as soon as I opened my mouth, I was

in deep trouble. I braced myself for another one of

your gifted tirades and on going conversation

about why or why not we should try another restaurant.

I have gotten use to you knowing something about

everything. I accepted those terms when we started

dating and became engaged. So I am not challenging

you per se, however I would like to state my

case openly. Steaks, country style steak, prime

rib steak, hamburger steak, pork chops, fried chicken,

creamed potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans, peanut

butter and jelly, Hall's pastry(everyday),

hot dogs, macaroni and cheese, stewed tomatoes,

pretty much sums up your idea of perfect meals.

I, on the other hand , happen to know that there

are other foods out there waiting to be tasted.

I really don't mind fixing you anything your little

old heart desires because I love you. But how about

some Thai , Japanese, or Chinese cuisine occasionally

just to break up the monotony.? I know you do not

like to try new things and I accept that. But could

it hurt you to think outside the box and take me to

a different restaurant so that my palate could

experience good food one more time before I die.?

Is that asking too much? It's not like I am asking

you to move to another country, I just want you to

enjoy the taste of other cultures. You might find

something you have been missing out on all your life.

Then again knowing you, you might just be happy

eating peanut and jelly sandwiches till you die.


He Said

I can appreciate you asking me to expand my horizons.

I suspect that every woman in the world would

like to change her man into just what she always

wanted, or to put it in your vernacular, Help me to

become the man You always knew I could be. You know

I want to please you. That is what I live for

daily. Most everything you ask me to do, I really

try to do it for you. But FOOD. I mean you are

treading on sacred ground here. A man's home is

his castle and a man's food is pretty darn close

to his money.

I am all for change . Mostly I am for changing you.

How about you trying collard greens, or banana

pudding, or calamari, or peanut butter egg sandwiches?

When I ask you to try these scrumptious items

you turn up your nose and make that funny face as if

I had choked your dog. We are all different and

have our own needs. This week your needs seem to be

eating foreign foods, Hopefully this is a passing

fancy that will go away next time Hamrick' s has a

sale and your mind goes into another mode..like

dresses are on sale. Maybe that will take your mind

off going to foreign restaurants or an exotic

restaurant just to let me enjoy the finer taste

of life that I do not want. Please don't take this

the wrong way. I mean if your mind is really set on

going exotic food , I am willing to sacrifice my needs

to make you happy. I don't always have to have my way

even though it is nice. Besides, they would never

know if I sneeked in a Happy Meal under the table

and if I am going to do this for you, you might as

well be shopping in the collard section next week

at the grocery store. One favor begats another, I

always say.

House Woes

She Said He Said June, 2009 Evince

She Said

It's spring and while a young man's fancy turns
to love, this old lady's fancy is turning
towards a house. I would like one that was post
Civil war instead of pre-Civil war. I had a
garbage disposal installed only to find out
that the pipes are too old and narrow for it
to work properly. The freezer door only opens
half way so if I want to put something oversize
in it, I have to pull it out from the wall.
I bought a stove and a "friend of a friend"
of yours installed it so I'm constantly in
fear of looking like I was pardoned thirty
seconds after the switch was pulled every
time I turn it on. The only one who enjoys
my tiny bathtub is Sophie (my standard poodle)
and I usually end up more drenched than she
does. My windows have never been thoroughly
washed because I can't get the storm windows
off and back on again. When I took the screens
off, I just stacked them in the basement for
the next owner to enjoy. Curb appeal...the
shrubs were so outdated that I decided to
trim them but it turned out to be more of
a butcher job. They all died. I connected
the washing machine only to have my neighbor
call and tell me water was running out of
the basement door. So I called a plumber
who knew just slightly more than I did
about plumbing and two days after he left,
I discovered that he had burst a pipe in
the basement. Water had soaked my out of
season wardrobe and boxes of treasures
stored away. The least he could have done
was to inform me before he left. I have
painted each room so many times that the
square footage is shrinking considerably
year by year. My pride and joy is my garden
window in the kitchen. It doesn't matter
that I don't have a green thumb...silk flowers
look great. So the difference between us is
that all of these little nuisances are Venus
issues and you are satisfied with living on
Mars. Do you think we could look for a place
halfway in  between...my geography isn't
very good but Hawaii would be acceptable.

He Said

Let me tell you why men go into their caves,
or retreat to Mars on a regular basis. Go
back and read what you said. To you it has a
meaning, a deep meaning. Now I love you,
so don't get offended by this, but all I read
was blah, blah, blah, blah and more blah.
I did not pick out your house. All of that
whining is probably very important to you.
What about the war in Iraq? What about the
starving children all over the world? What
about breast cancer? What are we having
for supper tonight? I mean really, I did not
see one item that couldn’t be fixed, except
maybe moving your house to Hawaii.  When I
mentioned retiring to Myrtle Beach, your
answer was something to the tune of too
crowded, too much beach, too many weirdo's
or something to that affect.
Maybe you were just having a bad day when you
came up with all these ideas of how bad your house
is. It sounded more like a Dear Abby letter to me
just to get it off your mind. Don't take offense
because any problem you have is either my problem
or turns out to be my problem. So let's look for
some solutions for you. Knock out the wall for the
refrigerator. Get a real electrician to re-connect
the stove. Find a home for the dog so you don't get wet.
Buy new windows. Pave the yard. Buy new wardrobe.
Put up wallpaper in each room. All problems solved.
You are happy. I am happy. We move to Hawaii
or to Myrtle Beach and live happily ever after.
Oh and by the way, what is for supper?

The Art of Arguing

She Said He Said


She Said

Let's talk about the art of arguing. No, that's not
an oxymoron like the former Elon College athletes:
the Fighting Christians. There is an art to arguing
or disagreeing. The first rule is to stick to the
problem at hand. You always dig into the deepest
recesses of your mind to conjure up conflicts we
had ten years ago which are hardly relevant to the
problem at hand. You complain constantly about all
of the projects that I like to do and at the same
time you'll chide me about how I'm turning into my 
mother because she didn't like to cook, clean, or
do laundry. You've never heard me complain about
those chores; what I complain about is that you
won't give me time to do them. You'll tell me how
much I spoil my kids and in the same breath, you'll
complain about having to drive both ways to
Greensboro to visit your family. Duh?! Stick to
the subject. Let's finish talking about my kids
first and then move on to something else. If you
want to complain about the fact that I have school
work or housework to do instead of sitting on the
sofa holding hands, then let's hear it. But in the
middle of the sentence, you'll casually throw in
"and by the way, why did you let your son park in
the driveway knowing you would have to move his car
in the morning and if I park there at the wrong time,
you fuss at me. Why don't you ever fuss at him...?
Why can't you treat me the same way you treat him?"
Do you see how you go off on a tangent and veer
from the subject at hand? There is no need to bring
up past grievances. Speak your peace and move on.
I'm a big girl and I can take it. Besides, the
shorter our arguments are, the quicker we can
get to kissing and making up.



He Said

I believe I counted ten different subjects in
your ranting....Arguing, Elon College, ten year
old conflicts, projects, your mother, chores,
spoiling kids, driving to Greensboro, my mother,
fussing at your kids.
Where does a man even begin? First of all , I
never even knew we argued or fussed. I view frank
discussions about all subjects fair game and just
opinions. Sometimes we agree and sometimes we
disagree. Children have never been a problem
for me. Your double standards on the other hand has
been subject for discussion a couple of times. I
only suggest that everyone in the house be treated the
same. All rules should apply equally. Since all
your children are grown, I assume that house rules
apply to everyone, not just for three year olds.
If I use a case history from yesterday or ten years
ago it is not to bring up an old subject, but to apply
that situation with a current situation since the
former situation was resolved. This might just be
the old “Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus”
argument all over again. I have never complained
about projects or housework, and I certainly have
never compared you with your mother. That would be
grounds for dismissal I am sure. I think most of
the time I am saying one thing and you are hearing
something else.
As a matter of fact, I would not be surprised that
after reading my answer, your assumption would be
after reading this, that I was talking about Rocket
Science, not relationships. Not changing the subject
but could we get back to that kissing and making up thing.

Just exactly what all would that involve?

Being Anti-Social

She Said He Said April 2009 Evince

She Said
It is of some concern to me that you are becoming
anti-social. Over the past few weeks it seems to me
that every time some of our friends call to do
something fun, you have other choices that seem
to be more important. What is more important than
bike riding and getting fresh air and more exercise?
When the neighbors called us and wanted us to go
sledding in the snow, I thought, what a joy to feel
the fresh air sledding up and down the street and
over the hills in the park. Wouldn’t it be fun to
take Sophie out in the snow with her paws sinking
up to her tummy wondering how to get them out?
Where were you in all this frivolity? Sitting at home
looking out the window or eating a snack. Sometimes
our friends want to go to their favorite restaurant
but you hold out for your favorite. So much for
winning friends and influencing people You are a
good guy and all that , but sometimes I see you as
a couch potato if you don't get your way. This may
be a man thing for all I know because it seems to be
consistent in a lot of men. I am not saying you
need to run a 10 k with me, although that would be
nice sometime, or go for a walk with me,
(that would help you regain your high school physique)
but more exercise would insure that we could
grow old together. I am just saying, make an effort
to be in touch with others, enjoy the fresh air, be
true to your friends and let them come first sometimes.
You know what they say about “keeping Mama happy”.

He Said
You don't want me to name everything I have done last
month to keep mama happy. We don't have enough room or
enough time for everyone to read my good deeds I have
done for you.
I do it out of love of course, but somehow, they always
slip your mind. When have I ever declined an offer to
go out to eat. Just last night I offered to go get us a
pizza and you declined because of your relationship with
your doctor and all this stuff about cholesterol. He would
never know if we occasionally sneaked a pizza into the
house for a little quality food. I eat the salads and give
the quiche to the dog, so one bad meal shouldn't set you
back too far. As for the snow, I love it! I love to
see it falling. I love to see it on the trees. But as far
as going out and cavorting in the cold mess, getting wet
and possibly giving me a cold, NO THANKS! I like our friends.
I even suggested they come over and bring hot chocolate...but
AFTER all that sledding stuff, not before. You
took pictures and I enjoyed looking at them. Our friends
took videos and I am anxiously awaiting to see
them, but as far as gallivanting out in the snow, I have
no desire. I never objected to your going and
having fun. I was happy for you and happy I didn’t have
to go. I was free to read my book and look out
the window and watch everyone enjoying the winter. As
far as mama being happy, I called her
and she said it is always a joy to hear her favorite
son's voice. So mama is happy

March....or Something Like It.

She Said He Said March 2009 By Dena Hill and Larry Oldham

She Said

I have a love/hate relationship with the month of March. It is true
that the March winds bring in the springtime. I love that part of the
month. The part of the month that I hate is the time of the month
that I am forced to tell you my monthly plans. March always is the
time of year that I start making out my list of springtime chores that
I want to accomplish. The weather is usually getting warmer, the
trees are getting ready to bloom and it is time to start planning
my gardening, painting, and in general getting ready to get
the house fixed up for summer and all that that entails. The
hate part is the dread of sharing all of this with you. You
always start whining about the “honey do list, why do you
have to help do all these things “, you ask.
This year I am not even going to tell you what I am going
to do, I am not going to ask you to help me, and I have
thrown the “honey do”jar away. So you can relax this year,
I will take care of all the springtime work, and you just
rest up for the coming summer months deciding on
where we vacation, what movies we will see, where we will
eat, who will drive, when we must visit your mother, what
to wear, what book to read next,should you pay someone to
cut your grass, you know all the important decisions
in your life.

He Said

I really don't think you understand how hard I work,
and all the decisions that are important that have
to made in my daily routine. Yes, March is a hard month,
but so was January when you couldn't decide which tile
to lay down on your bathroom floor, or November when
you had to paint the ceiling in the living room, or
September when you had to move the furniture around all
over the house. I mean, look, I know the house is
important to you, and it means a lot to me that
everything is always clean , and the house is always
spotless. I don't want to sound like a male
chauvinist pig, but all that women's need that you
have ,can be taken care of ,as I told my ex-wife, with
a phone call to a cleaning service.
I don't understand the need to clean every spring, mess
it up every fall, and clean it again next spring. All
this cleaning talk is really giving me a headache. Why
don't we just skip this March madness of cleaning,
go get some ice cream, sit on the porch, or go cook
out some steaks.
If we don't invite the neighbors over this year, and we
avoid all our friends , so they won't visit us, who is
going to see the house , dirty or clean , except us.....
and maybe the dog. Have you ever heard the dog complain.
No,I didn't think so. We can all be happy if we work
together on this thing, re-evaluate our priorities, and
learn to live together in harmony. A few germs might help
build up our immune system and help us live longer. On
the other hand we could clean, which could give
us a heart attack, might give us a stroke, or could
affect our immune system by being germ and dirt free,
which could expose us to all kinds of health problems.

I rest my case.