Things we never knew.

You never know when you'll get an insight into your spouse.
Take Sunday evening, for example.

--The Husband was watching a program on Public TV. I only caught the brief segment about drug use during the 60s. You know--dirty, pot smoking hippies, free love and all that. How drug use started out as an innocent, have a good time sort of thing. Then turned dark and dangerous. From free-wheeling, mud puddles of Woodstock to the insidious Stones concert at Altamont when Hell's Angels "security" stabbed some poor altered-consciousness slob who was just trying to get on the stage.

--Segue from a peace and love San Francisco demonstration to clips of servicemen in Viet Nam smoking pot -- actually using a rifle as a bong. (Yes, kids, I know and can identify a bong.) Then, footage of the requisite grim and depressing battlefield shots. Lots of casualties. And lots and lots of drugs.
Me: "I can't believe this. This is so sad--most of those guys are probably dead!"
The Husband: "We didn't do THAT many drugs. At least not in the field. (He was in the infantry.) We drank a lot, though."
I have a difficult time watching anything related to war, battlefield casualties. Evening listening to the radio and hearing about more dead servicemen makes me emotional. Especially, with Paddy off in the Navy. That picture is The Husband at age 19.

Dinner table conversation later:
Me: So, that show was disturbing. You're really lucky to be alive.
The Husband: Oh, really!? (irony dripping)
Long pause
The Husband: Yeah, probably lucky at least 4 times.
Me: I mean, being in the field and all. . .
The Husband: Did I ever tell you about the time I was trying to get a dead guy into a helicopter? I just couldn't get a hold of him. This other guy pushed me out of the way and grabbed the guy. 5 seconds later he took a bullet to the head.
Me: silent
The Husband: Yeah, I must have gone into shock or something. I can't remember the guy. I can just remember seeing his brains in the grooves on the floor."

Why, no dear, you never did tell me that story. And now, here we are 37 years later eating dinner at our kitchen table. Lucky him. Lucky that the universe conspired to bring us where we are. That The Husband survived his teens, 18 months in the Marine Corps and our marriage, in spite of himself. That we conspired, against all odds, to stay together. With our 32nd Wedding Anniversary fast approaching, it's a fine time to reflect on how we got here.

Listening to: Walk on the Wild Side, Lou Reed
Eating: Sesame Thins and a late dinner