"Cant see that this talk is cheap…"-Milla

Today greeted me with another computer crash.

Morning Rob! I'll be your paperweight this morning!

That's my computer talking. It sounds kinda like Hal in 2001, "I can't do that Rob…"

That's the only words it spoke. It did flip a finger at me. I told it that it was number one too. My computer and I work well together.

Grrrr. Yeah, actually I'm getting good now. I tried a few reboots and then ran a hard drive diagnostic. Presto! 2 hours later I'm up. Ok, so my "Presto" needs some work. The magic word store had a sale; I got the tortoise presto, it was all I could afford. There were some other words on sale but I already knew them. I even shouted them at my computer as I threw my morning tantrum.

"Screw you! You piece of Crap!"

"I can't do that, Rob."

You know what? Tantrums really suck when nobody's around but the inanimate to see them. MyUnwife used to applaud them. She even had a little rating cards:

"Nine-point-seven, Nine-point-seven, Nine-point-two, and a three-point-two from the Romanian judge. He's biased."

Ah yes in the non-violent tantrum Olympics I'm a contender.

That was one of the interesting marriage dynamics. Reading moods. If you're matched well, then you can dress appropriately for every pressure change.

"Tut-tut, looks like rain…"

Yeah Christopher Robin and Pooh, they matched perfectly. MyUnwife and I were more Bert and Ernie. She had her paperclip collection, and I had my rubber ducky. We met somewhere in the middle. That's fine, I think that it can work. Because I know that Christopher and Pooh are fictitious. Bert and Ernie are real; and sure, sometimes Ernie says things that makes Bert want to string his paperclips together, one end in Ernie's bath water, the other clipped to the electrical socket, but Bert lets it go.

Its all in the dynamic. If you don't have it down, you'll get struck by lightening every time. In most couples, it's a learned thing. Behavioral training for the gender uneducated.

"Does this skirt make my butt look big?"

"No, but those Nachos do."

ZZZT!

Yeah. Even my weather man could call that storm. Some are trickier. Some start somewhere else and sock in before you can run for cover. Sometimes you’re just one finger in the socket away from the shock of your life.

"Have you seen my keys?"

"I am not your assistant! Why do I have to find every freaking thing you lose..?"

Nope. Sometimes you can't even pull your hand away. You just have to take the jolt until somebody else saves you. That burning smell? It's only your pride.

The thing is, that no matter how good you are, you're still going to take these jolts. Occasionally, you'll step away from the wall socket only to fall in the bubbling toaster tub later. Hazards and accidents are everywhere.

I was pretty good though. I couldn't idiot proof my marriage, but I could keep Rob, the primary idiot, under control. It also helped to know that all storms would eventually blow over. All I had to do was ride it out. The sun would always come out. Tomorrow. I think that's what struck me the hardest about the divorce. I thought that no matter what happened between us, we'd always reset to "good."

In California, the earth shakes. It happens almost daily. I don't care how often Cal Tech tells me we're one bump away from Arizona beach front. I know that the shaking will stop, my world will settle, and my feet will be dry.

So when the big one came, and MyUnwife told me "it's over," I never saw the wave crash. And now that the big one has hit, I'm expected to swim back to the Arizona coastline and rebuild.

How do I do that? I've seen the end, and it's near: Fires, floods, and killer locusts. Sometimes bouncing back from this seems like the coyote buying quality assurance stock in ACME. If it's made at ACME, it's going to break.

Maybe if I'm not positive, I'm inviting disaster. Maybe it's the journey, and not the blah, blah, blah…I'm rebooting. I still believe in SoCali-terra-firma, and I'm still standing on it. These are just my thoughts as I sit in my warm tub with my rubber ducky and my computer.

"Computer, could you scrub my back?"

"I'm sorry, I can't do that, Rob."