I am going to start with a song cuz this guy has nothing to do with the current cultural angst about getting married. He is a singer. It is his job to sing songs of love, love lost and found again. It is a love song of a young man.
A song that continues the tradition of a line of people crooning you are the one and only with the added kicker of "I'm not about to let you go." This is Andy Kong with Accidental Love Song.
Love doesn't seem to have much to do with marriage anymore. Maybe it never did. There is a never ending bar room argument about settling for the kinda sorta man of your not quiet dreams. It is the new imperative of old school thinking of "hold your nose and marry something." Not a person. Not a companion.
A person that meet 77.5% of your marital requirements? Too ambitious. 55% should be enough. Forsake the idea seeking the person with a spirit or soul that resonates with your being. It is being spun to get hitched to an icon cuz you want to be not single.
Oh, yeah. It would help if you knew what I was talking about. There is this book called: Marry Him: The Case for Settling for "Mr. Good Enough." It is based on an Atlantic article from 2008 by the same author, Lori Gottleib.
I feel like the person on the hill trying to talk to the lemmings before they head off the cliff. I should know better. I've been a lemming a time or two.
Here is my short version. Don't marry out of fear. Don't marry because you want to have a child. To marry means to join and if you truly don't care about the person you are about to join with I can't imagine a greater hell.
I have a story. Once upon a time an older woman met with a few friends to go out and socialize. Kiki met this guy. He seemed ok. They went out a few times. Did the Sealy shimmy, it was assumed, with modest but acceptable performance.
Kiki wanted companionship. She was willing to settle. Kiki fested up that she liked him but did not love him. Few months into Sunday dinners they decided to marry.
Turned out the dude liked having dinner, TV and well, more TV. And not much else. Yep. Kiki married a couch potato. Spuds, in this case spousal duds are not known to be good conversationalists.
That is what you get when you play the percentages. Hurt. You take the good with the bad and the bitter with the sweet. A great song lyric. I can't remember which song it goes to? Wait, I got it, Jackie Moore's Precious, Precious.
Kiki wanted a warm body. He wanted a hot pot roast dinner and some beer. They both got what they wanted. They were miserable. To do extra laundry without any additional benefit other than to keep the stench level down?
Gee, I don't think it is a good idea.
I'm back on the hill. I see the next wave of lemmings coming. Well, you live and hopefully you learn. The lemmings? Let them be. Might make it easier to find the good folks.