a perfectly good life

I don’t have time to exercise, I am a busy man.
I don’t have time to exercise, I’ll do it when I can.
First I need to finish my work, I’ve got my priorities straight.
I’ll catch a quick lunch at McDonald’s, I’m too busy to watch my weight.

When I was young and looking for love, exercise was my obsession.
My rippled abs and muscled arms on women made quite an impression.
But once I was married with kids to support and obligations to fulfill,
I stopped exercising and I overate. My sex life went straight downhill.

I don’t have time to exercise, I am a busy man.
I don’t have time to exercise, I’ll do it when I can.
I’m the man of the house. Everyone’s counting on me. I am the great provider.
And I’m too tired to move at the end of the day, so my butt’s getting wider and wider.

When the kids fell in love and left the nest to start families of their own,
I wanted desperately to see the world, from Sao Paolo to Cologne.
But my knees were too weak, blood pressure too high, and arrhythmias pounded my heart.
I wanted to work out so I could follow my dreams, but I was too stiff to even start.

I don’t have time to exercise, I am a busy man.
I don’t have time to exercise, I’ll do it when I can.
I wish I could do the things I used to do, when my body could pass any test.
But with mounting pressures and deadlines to meet, it’s no wonder I’m feeling so stressed.

Now I am old and confined to my bed, with new symptoms appearing each day,
I dream of my youth: If I could start over again, this time I would not go astray.
I’d take care of myself. I’d watch what I eat, and get involved in a particular sport,
But I am too old and too tired, too weak and too fat, my time left on this earth is short.

And now,

I don’t have time to exercise.

Why is it that husbands and wives often take on roles that can be, and usually are, destructive to their marriage? Jokes about wives being back seat drivers, and husbands refusing to be driven by their wives, are symbolic looks at what is a much deeper issue. The wife who feels unsafe and compelled to control is usually a person haunted by anxiety about life. She has difficulty relaxing as a passenger because it is likely that she feels her own life is out of control. Maybe at some point in the relationship she inadvertently handed the wheel of her life over to her husband, and she is left feeling unsettled because of it.

This is a complicated dynamic. It is not unusual for couples to merge with each other because initially it feels so darn good. Unfortunately, what tastes sweet at the start often turns sour after time. The caring, take-charge kind of guy might make his partner feel loved and secure in the beginning. He may give her the feeling that, with him, everything will be OK. More often than not her original family was not a stable, secure place, and in the marriage she feels taken care of for the first time. It backfires when she surrenders herself to her spouse in such a way that she stops taking care of herself.

Often husbands find themselves in the metaphoric driver’s seat because they actually feel safer being in charge. Taking the wheel can provide one with a sense of competence and control as well as serving as a barrier against one’s own vulnerability. Just as it is not in the wife’s best interest to surrender her abilities to her husband, it is also damaging to the husband to camouflage his frailties in compulsively competent behavior.

So what is a good prophylactic measure for couples to take in order to avoid falling into these familiar traps? The answer is easy to say, but near impossible to do and takes a lifetime to successfully implement.

The way football fans rev up for the Super Bowl, our family looks forward to Oscar night. The whole day is planned around the event, with cookies baking, and homework completed before we gather around the television. It gets our adrenalin pumping as we identify with the actors who wait with a mix of poise and vulnerability. There are moments when we actually find ourselves thinking that we are the actors ourselves: we are winners; we have come so far, and it is our night!

The Barbara Walters Special is foreplay for the evening, allowing us intimacy with a select few. Before her interview, who knew that Helen Mirren was disarming, humble, and even spunky? We decided then and there that she had to win, even though before the interview we were routing for Meryl Streep. (Aren’t we fickle?) And, for me, if Eddie Murphy didn’t walk away with gold in hand it would be my own personal defeat. Then there was Ellen, the boy-woman telling the world of the betrayal that haunted her childhood. We were all in love with her, routing for the show’s success to make up for the horrors of her past.