Small talk with a stranger on a plane can be many things, often adding up to not much of anything. Last weekend I met a guy who told me something I hadn’t heard before, but was, to him, common knowledge. He was a handsome, trim man, hair styled and clean shaven, wearing well-fitting jeans, a button-down shirt, and reading a self-help book about changing priorities and finding fulfillment – an unusual title to be in a businessman’s hands. He was personable and friendly, in his early 50’s, I’m guessing, based on his conversation.
He is a college graduate, although he never worked in his field. He took the first job he got, which helped pay the bills, and he’s been working his way up the company’s ladder for the last couple of decades. He is a successful business man. He is married, wearing a ring. He’s been married for 31 years to the woman he dated in college. “You know what they say . . . it’s cheaper to keep her.” He paused; one beat, then two. Added, “Oh, uh, and I love her.”
This last part a supplication, a sheepish smile on his face, as if imploring me to believe him.
In other conversation, perhaps over Idaho, we turned to the question of children. It was clear I had one, as we were traveling together and this nice guy had helped heft our carry-ons above our seats. Did he have children? “Not the two-legged kind.” He has an Akita. It’s got a hair problem (seems hair falls out in clumps) but it’s this guy’s best friend. He takes the dog out twice a day for long walks. He has researched the dog’s hair condition extensively, and found a veterinarian in Germany who suggested bathing the dog in oil. He buys expensive medications to reverse the dog’s hair loss. He has shampooed the dog in oil. But without a concrete floor, he can’t do this again. So he is continuing to look for solutions.
He is devoted to his Akita.
Later in the conversation, somewhere over the Midwest, we chatted about plans he had for the weekend. “I don’t know,” he said. “I have to check with the Boss.” Pause; one beat, then two. “Don’t get me wrong,” continued this well-dressed business man who checks out books on personal fulfillment from his local public library. “Thirty one years. That’s a long time. It’s a lot of work.” Pause; one beat, then two. “Of course, I love my wife.”
Less a declaration of love, more a request to erase what he heard himself say, the knowledge that he just told a complete stranger that his love is an afterthought to the financial cost/benefit calculation of staying and leaving. His words hung in the air at cruising altitude. But he wanted me to know he didn’t mean anything by these things he’d said. He’s a good guy, doing the right thing. This guy does what people tell him to do. He had fastened his seatbelt and remained seated even after the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. He had stayed 31 years. He is willing to do all kinds of hard work – he’s shampooed an Akita in oil, let’s remember. This is a guy who is working his tail off to keep a roof over his and his wife’s head and hair on his dog, but can’t imagine putting anything more in to his marriage.
He’s as surprised as anyone that so much work, so much time doing the right thing, has left him reading books about how to find fulfillment.
All weekend long, I relayed the new proverb to friends and family members. Turns out none of us had known, “It’s cheaper to keep her.” It’s pithy. Funny. Light. Rhyming. Catchy. “It’s cheaper to keep her,” we quipped. Out for drinks with former college roommates, we conspiratorially chimed, over the clink of a wine glass, “Well, you know what they say . . .” We tried and failed to come up with the female-to-male equivalent: It’s cheaper to keep him? It’s cheaper to leave him? It’s easier to sleep with him than keep with him? It’s creepier to keep him? Boss him, don’t toss him?
I’m stymied. There is no pithy equivalent to stay married to a man you no longer love. I’m as tongue-tied over this as what might be the appropriate refrain to other similar true-isms I’ve heard forever:
You know what they say . . .
. . . what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
. . . why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?
And my favorite:
. . . boys will be boys.
And these mean, what, exactly? I’ve never heard someone declare, “Well, you know what they say, girls will be girls.” Or, “Why marry him when you can get the sex for free?”
Perhaps these “Well, you know what they say” phrases are meant to shut people up. Shut women up. Shut men up so they no longer even ponder what they are doing. Gather tacit consent that certain actions are completely acceptable. Keep men and women aware of what they can expect: Your man will stay with you not because he honors you, but because it costs too much to let you go. A young boy (or man) will absolutely trample on the rights of those around him because that’s all we can expect from testosterone-filled creatures. When the cat’s away the mouse will play, and if the mouse happens to go on a business trip, don’t ask and he won’t tell; sexual indiscretions, lap dances or strip clubs – it’s all good, clean fun. Heh, heh, heh. Boys will be boys. It’s cheaper to keep her.
How does one argue with that?
You know what I say? To every man and woman out there, in the most gender-neutral way I can, I say:
Is this really the best you can do?
I say: Life is hard work, all of it, for all of us. If you’re still alive, put in the work.
I say: Be the best person, best mate, best lover, best anything to your obligations. All your obligations, not just the dog or the job.
I say: Give the cow back if you don’t like milk.