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When Real Power Meets the Perception of Power

By Dan & Nancy Sapir
Posted Tuesday, November 27, 2007


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HIM: Boy did I make a mistake the other day. I was heading out to work when she informed me that my Doberman had gotten into the trash and it was now littering the floor. Being in a hurry, I did what any red blooded male would do, I told her to "deal with it" and headed out the door. Well, I should have realized that that was the kiss of death. "Deal with it?" she whispered. "OK, I'll deal with it, but you will pay for that remark when you least expect it" she muttered under her breath.

One thing I should have learned after 41 years of marriage is that women never forget anything. I started to realize that it might take years, but one day she will have her revenge. It could be torture just waiting for the other shoe to drop. There are things that happened years ago that she still pulls from her bag of tricks. Women could forget something that happened ten minutes ago, but remember what you said 25 years ago. They wait for a opportune moment and then spring it on you: You may have forgotten what you said to me the day my mother joined us for Christmas dinner back in 1973, but don't think I did. I told you then that you would pay for that remark one day. It doesn't matter that the event occurred 34 years ago…women remember these things, I know that firsthand. That is why I should have turned around and cleaned up the rubbish and be done with it.

As the days passed she kept reminding me of how one day I would pay for my crime, "but today is not the day" she said sweetly, "You'll know when that day comes" she said smiling even more. The bad part of it is that I know she's telling the truth. I experienced such an event about 10 years ago, and it wasn't pretty. Things were not looking up for me now. It's not so much that the retaliation will be that bad, it's the anticipation that becomes the enemy; it could be any time, any place. I don't think I'm alone on this nor do I think it's unique to her. I'm convinced it's a woman thing passed down from the beginning of time as a way to bring men to their knees; because, the truth be known, we're basically afraid of our wives. They make more sense then we do, they can tolerate pain better and longer then we can, they can remember things longer (even trivia) and can stop speaking for indeterminable periods of time, all of which drives us crazy.

Having said all this, I think I made a good decision the other day. She needed quite a few items from the supermarket. She said she needed them immediately because she was about to begin her holiday baking. Like everything else, she wanted the stuff immediately and was willing to drop the "curse" as she called it, if I responded in kind. I'm not too smart on some things, but on this occasion I leaped into action. I managed to get the list, secure everything on it and have it back at the house…all within an hour! I stood there looking at her, waiting for the words that would set me free. "I don't see the pure vanilla extract" she muttered, "this is imitation vanilla extract. If you want out of the curse, you're going to have to do better than this." I stood motionless, at an unusual loss for words, "only kidding she said, the curse is lifted." She asked me what I would have done had she not relieved me of my burden. That was easy, somehow I'd have to learn to "deal with it".

HER: Every now and then an irresistible opportunity presents itself like this last gaffe of his. Every day he'd talk about ‘the curse' and what it would likely involve. I said to him, "Well, what if you, like Fred Sandford, started clutching your chest yelling,"This is the big one!" Then I would say, "Deal with it." That's how I got my groceries delivered. I don't mean a word of it, but he doesn't know that. What really unnerves him is my silence and my patience.

In the early days of our marriage, I expressed myself loudly, with tears and unkind words. That never did any good, and it only upset me more. Now I pick my battles, and then fight them with the stealth and cunning of a Navy Seal.

Men are amazing creatures, and women could learn a tiny something from them. If, for example, you pay a man a compliment, no matter how untrue, he will believe you. Give a woman undeserved praise, and she'll doubt your judgment in everything else. That's because women are truth-seekers and dedicated to self-improvement. How else to explain the billions of dollars we spend on beauty supplies, clothes, diets, and night school.

If you tell a man he is the slightest bit wrong about something, he will dislike you and tell all his friends you're a bxxxh, or worse, for as long as he lives, or until you deliver some outstanding praise, true or not. Point out a woman's faults, and she, too, will dislike you forever, but she will also strive to improve in that area if she believes your criticism is warranted.

I realized the other day that I have a long way to go in my relationship with him. He does not make coffee, nor does he pour it. One morning last week he came downstairs and asked if there were coffee. I told him to pour himself a cup. He looked at me like he'd been wounded.

He'd never heard such words before. And I felt guilty. There are always mountains to climb in this life. I didn't learn a thing from that experience except that if he is to be spared the least bit of hurt, I will continue to get up and pour the coffee even if he is standing directly in front of the machine.

The bottom line is men need to feel powerful; women are powerful.


Latest articles in Him & Her

Playing Hide & Seek with Myself
[Apr. 16, 2008] I think I’m beginning to acknowledge the fact that I’m getting older. Now mind you, I still think young, but there are reminders out there that no matter how I think, old age is creeping in. There are times I head out of the office and drive up the hill heading North. Halfway up I start wondering where is it I’m heading? I figure that if I just keep driving I’ll spot something that will trigger my memory; most of the time it works and it’s either Sovereign Bank or Stop & Shop that is my destination.
Now, I can’t tell you how many times I can’t find my car in the S & S parking lot. I just become just another person going up and down the rows with my shopping cart in tow. I become convinced that the car has been stolen, when, there it is, parked nowhere near where I swear I put it.

Forward through the ages...
[Mar. 4, 2008] When I turned 66 two days after Christmas it was no big deal. Men can deal with things like getting older. I feel pretty good, I can lose those extra pounds whenever I want and with a few prescription drugs life is not so bad. The fact that I have a paunch doesn’t bother me, baldness doesn’t keep me awake at night, the wrinkles could be worse, the varicose veins don’t show and my blood work is usually pretty good. The gist of it all is that being old doesn’t bother me. Actually, there are benefits; if you forget a name, or are late for an appointment, you can blame it on old age. The Dunkin’ Donut senior discount is available seven days a week and people very often give up their seats in deference to your age.

Wii can only dream of the Glory Days that never were...
[Jan. 29, 2008] HIM: I have finally found something in the world of computer games that I can get a handle on. I’ve never gotten into this Play Station stuff because I’m afraid it would become addictive, and I’d get even less done then I already do. But alas, there is now something that both she and I can have fun with. I’m speaking of the latest phenomenon called Wii. It’s an interactive game that you can actually control. You can play baseball, shoot at birds, bowl, and a whole lot more. The thing is, you actually control your actions by holding a handle devise that gets attached to your wrist so you don’t throw the thing at the TV screen.

Him and Her: Wealth
[Dec. 20, 2007] HIM: Now that the kids are grown it is a great sense of pleasure when we get invited over to one of their houses for holiday dinners. Between Susannah in Plymouth and Steven here in Kingston, we haven’t had to prepare these five course meals for years. Nancy, forgetting how many years she slaved over a hot stove and oven, always feels that she should be making "a little something" to take along. The thing that I just don’t get, is the number of little ditties she whips up to prove "we’re not pikers." Her shopping list looks as long as when she fed everyone and then some. She prepares an elaborate dessert, a side dish…or two and insists on a bottle, or two, of wine. Me, I look at the whole thing differently. I love the idea of showing up at their house, plunging into appetizers and then plowing into the meal 30 minutes later. After a 10 minute recovery period, I’m usually the one who pokes around the dessert and is first to attack the pies, cake and puddings. When that’s taken care of, I retire to whatever room the TV is located, to watch football. At halftime I head back to the food and dessert for round two, concluding with a Tupperware container lavished with leftovers. That’s my idea of living. I can never understand why she always tells the kids, "I’m sorry for your father’s eating disorder, but you know how it is with him and food." I never could understand what that’s all about, I mean, we do our share with the stuff she whips up; it’s like a down payment for all the other food that I consume. I never mind buying all the stuff we end up bringing as our contribution because she makes so much that the kids send us back with most of it anyway.

When Real Power Meets the Perception of Power
[Nov. 27, 2007] Boy did I make a mistake the other day. I was heading out to work when she informed me that my Doberman had gotten into the trash and it was now littering the floor. Being in a hurry, I did what any red blooded male would do, I told her to "deal with it" and headed out the door. Well, I should have realized that that was the kiss of death. "Deal with it?" she whispered. "OK, I'll deal with it, but you will pay for that remark when you least expect it" she muttered under her breath.

Coffee - It’s the only legal drug from Colombia...
[Oct. 30, 2007] HIM: Coffee. I just don’t see the big deal about coffee. I see people lined up at different places around time waiting for that first hit of the morning. She is no different. Without that first cup in the morning she is a lost cause. She wakes up, squints her eyes and shuffles into her slippers. Her hair is askew, her steps halting, and the only word I can make out from her murmuring is, "coffee." In zombie-like motions she stumbles into the kitchen, puts a filter into the bin and pours in the water, I know she is reasonably conscious because she remembers to give the dogs water, flips open a can of cat food, pushes it into my hand and points outside where the cat now lives because of the two dogs. She has yet to speak but manages to sit on the living room couch where she just sits, hunkered down, until she hears no more activity from Mr. Coffee. With that, she rushes back to the kitchen, smells the effervescence of coffee, pours a cup and retreats back to the couch. She wraps her hands around the cup, retreats within herself, and gradually moves the cup closer to her mouth (which she manages to find on the third attempt). Blessed is the first sip of the brown liquid for it brings a great smile to her face. By the third sip her vocal cords are functioning again. "Go pour yourself a cup so I can go over the list of things you have to do for me today" she suggests, "and remember to clasp your hands around the cup so you can be cozy." Yes, the morning is truly underway.

Mulching Madness
[Sep. 28, 2007] HIM: Over the past several seasons she’s killed fewer plants then in the past. The idea of a big garden at the rear of our home is beginning to diminish as she turned her attention to the indoor planting of seeds. I’m not sure what we had growing throughout the summer but little green shoots were peeping up from those weird looking pots placed throughout every room. She could have owned stock in potting soil and Miracle Grow with the vast amounts she carted into the house. She even talked to them welcoming each new bud into a world that can only spell doom.

Calling a Truce in the War on Peace and Quiet
[Aug. 27, 2007] HIM: She’s up to something and I think it’s diabolical. I haven’t figured it out yet but I will. It’s not natural and it flies in the face of female thinking.
First off I should mention that we have two sons. For the past few years my oldest son David and I have made it a tradition to watch all Patriots games at his place in North Plymouth.
 

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