Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Pretend Husband Number One or: I Give You Ed Head

Of my four Pretend Husbands, Ed Head has known me the longest and, consequently, has suffered the most. The worst of his trials occurred early on, before a shrink finally put me on meds. Luckily, Ed Head had a mother who loved him, and as a result he is not mean to women. Not that he thinks of me as a woman. He thinks of me as more of a bison. At least that’s what he calls me (“Hello, You Big Bison”) when he isn’t calling me Vileness Itself or The World’s Most Remarkably Horrible Person.

The upside is that while he is calling me these hideous names, he’s also driving me to the doctor. The foot surgeon, brain surgeon, whatever’s required. Then, feeling sorry because I get the tumors while he, once a decade, gets the brief cold, he treats me to a big, festive dinner. I make fun of his Midwestern White Bread Terror of Flavor (always the chicken breast, never the thigh) while he mocks my Slavic Penchant For Dark (not just black bread, but jet black risotto, featuring squid in its own icky ink).  

If I had a brother, he’d be like Ed Head. Or, if I were a male, I would just be Ed Head. Which is to say that, despite our disdain for each other’s entrees, being with him feels, in the very best sense, like being alone, except I know that I’m not, because he is driving. Also, he reads and knows everything so whenever he talks I’m forced to expand my otherwise paltry vocabulary. Indeed, he’s the one who taught me lacuna (see previous post) and even now I recall how he used it:

“When I talk to you, Bison, it’s clear to me that you’re not stupid, but every once in a while I can’t help but notice this giant lacuna that looms in your brain."

Anyway, it was something like that, and hearing it (once I looked up lacuna) made me feel the best thing there is: Understood.  As often as I've tried to explain to my friends how Thoroughly I Understand Nothing, Ed Head is the only one who’s actually perceived this truth for himself. He not only sees my dreadful lacuna, he flagrantly marvels at its horrible depth. Which is why, when I fill out medical forms, I always put his name and number as the person to contact in case of emergency. In case of emergency? Who am I kidding? I've never not lived on the verge of emergence.  Ed Head knows this.  God bless Ed Head.

11 comments:

  1. God bless Ed Head and God bless you. This is a wonderful post.

    ReplyDelete
  2. "...being with him feels, in the very best sense, like being alone, except I know that I’m not, because he is driving."

    That is such a great line that I wish I had written it myself!

    ReplyDelete
  3. How's Ruthie Head?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Thanks for asking. Ruthie continues to be her fine, sublime self.
    Plus, she's promised to come to my birthday party!
    Yay!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Are you a fellow [sic] Aries?

    ReplyDelete
  6. No, a Gemini. My birthday is a ways off yet. But it takes time to prepare for the horror!
    Ms. G

    ReplyDelete
  7. Hi Ms G
    IMHO you require 4 husbands at a minimum as a Gemini. The sign of twins is an excellent sign for MPD (formerly known as multiple personality disorder.)Each twin in Gemini usually has an ancillary set if twins. Under ideal conditions you could have as many a SIX husbands.

    Best to you and your husbands,
    Karsan

    ReplyDelete
  8. Re b-days, tell me! Mine is next week, and were it not for the kindness of my friends and family, I'd probably have to take to my bed. It ain't for sissies, but some of my dear ones didn't make it this far, so I'm gonna soldier on, doin' it for them! Hang in there, we can do this ...

    Looking forward to your next post,
    RT

    ReplyDelete
  9. I miss you, too. A whole lot.

    ReplyDelete