Romantic Date Reality Show

Barbara: So we got a cool email yesterday. Looks like JD Meyers, a casting director in NYC, is looking to cast a new reality TV show to showcase romantic gestures from husband to wife. The good news? They help you put the date together. The bad? They’re having a hard time finding the guys! Mostly because their demographic is a bit older than might be on the ‘net looking to do this. JD thought we might be able to help him scout willing males.

And we thought, why not put a word in? It’s a sweet idea, we would love to be part of making a woman’s dream date come true, and we would LOVE to hear about it here if any of our blog-buddies are somehow part of this romance. Okay, bad news number two: it can’t be your husband … because it has to be a surprise! But maybe—if you’re one of our male readers, living in the States—it can be YOU, or maybe you tell a friend, or a sibling, or a dad, or whomever you think might fit the bill.

Here’s the casting notice:

CASTING NOTICE: MARRIED MEN (approx. 45-65 years old)

* Do you have a wife who you absolutely adore?

* Have you been thinking of sentimental ways to show her how much you care?

* Do you have a creative idea in mind of how you could surprise your wife?

 A NYC-based production company is conducting a national search for a romantic husband, 45-65 years old, who is wanting/planning to surprise his wife with a heart-warming gesture of love before August 1, 2012. The surprise can either mark a special occasion or be random and unexpected. The selected husband will receive help and enhancements to ensure an over-the-top and special surprise for his wife that will be filmed as part of a news segment featured on a major cable network. Perhaps the husband is giving his wife the honeymoon he couldn't afford when they first got married, or planning to replace something sentimental that was lost. Maybe he wants to give her a trip to where they first met or surprise her with a lavish (but secret) vow renewal ceremony. Whatever the case, any and all ideas for the surprise are welcome as long as they are unique, personal and sentimental in nature. The couple can be located anywhere in the US, and compensation for the couple will also be offered. Please submit the following information to jmyerscasting@gmail.com: Name, age, location, information on the couple, and a brief description of ideas for the surprise.

But let’s not stop there. Let’s talk romance for a bit. I’d love to know what your ideal romantic date is. It can be “out there”—we’re not holding anyone to making sure our crazy wishes come true—and why not let our imaginations go a little wild? Or maybe you want to share with us a romantic experience you’ve had—or heard about—that was especially unique.

As you guys know, Deb and I are very happily married. We’ve also had many lovely, romantic and special occasions with our beloveds. Of course, we can’t write anything about husbands and romance without calling back maybe our favourite post of all time: the one here where our boys told you how they felt about being married (…to us).

Okay, here’s my dream date: a long road trip through glorious scenery, great meals on outdoor patios, maybe a massage (um, by trained professionals, for both of us…), lazing in the sun.

My best romantic date memory: when I turned 30 and was pregnant with Michele, Phil secretly arranged to have my sister babysit 3-year-old Stefanie so he could whisk me away to a lodge in the country for beautiful food, a bit of hiking and canoeing, lunching on a sunny island, our own cabin in the woods, quiet, talks, sitting on Adirondack chairs in the sunset…. Wait, can my “dream date” just be that one over again (minus the pregnancy)???

Deb: Oh, Barb, as you well know, my dear friend, I can relate to this. Romance is the act of knowing in your heart what your partner wants. Romance is striving for that and failing with that. But it is trying. Always always always trying. I know from experience with friends and family that love can come at any age and romance can come at any age and any stage of life. It is there for the taking and it is there for anyone and everyone. So. Go. 

Partners

Deb: Over the last couple of months, my husband has been to me a friend, an ear, an errand boy, and caregiver, not just to my parents, but to me. And he has done it with grace. Not a roll of the eyes or a hint of resentment has shown on his face or in his demeanor. 

And it got me thinking about partners. The people in our lives that are the yin to our yang, the mirror we look into every day, the person that keeps us honest while sharing in our deceit. But whatever their role, they are the people we spend our lives with. They can be our lovers, friends, children, business partners. They are life partners that we may have one or dozens of in a lifetime.

Recently I have had a bird’s-eye view of two partnerships at opposite ends of the spectrum. One relationship is a gorgeous example of one partner swooping in to help when their partner is felled, without question or hesitation. The other relationship, while under a very similar circumstance, is fraught with negative behavior and is depressing to view.

And the thing is ... much to my shock I find that one isn’t more powerful than the other. And even though I would not have the miserable relationship for the world, I have to respect it. Because the partners are doing the best that they can. And because this is their relationship—and as snarky as they can be with one another—this works for them. And I know for a fact that it works for all sorts of reasons, not the least of which is their deep committed love. Whether I agree with how it presents itself doesn’t matter.  A great partnership does not have to be a warm relationship, or even a kind relationship, to be great.

I would die if I had even a fraction of the combative partnership I see in these two people. But does that mean that my partnership is better? When we love, honour and respect our partner, it certainly makes it the more desirable love affair, but does it make it the better partnership? I can’t with honesty say that it does. Because a good partnership contains so many elements including chemistry, destiny, symmetry, history and an undeniable pull towards another creature. No one ever said a partnership had to be peaceful or, even to a degree, respectful. Many great partnerships in life are none of these things. Many famous and successful partnerships throughout history were unhealthy, depressing displays.

I am sure if I asked my sparring couple if they thought they were good partners, they would look at me miffed at the question, and respond that of course they are. So they are, for them. Maybe we all are, for us.

But if I have my pick as partnerships go, I will take what I have in my husband.  The person who catches my glass before it shatters on the floor and hands me a tea before the thought crosses my mind. And he will receive same.

Barbara: As you predicted, Deb, this did throw me for a loop. Deb has had an intensely busy time and knew she would get this post to me late. So she gave me the heads-up that we would be talking partnerships in today’s blog so I could be prepared ahead of time with a short response. Funnily, I did have a whole (very long) running metaphor about cogs and wheels and how those don’t always run smoothly in even a great partnership, etc, etc, but you did stop me here with this, Deb. And I’m glad you did.

Because I can think of several partnerships that are fractious and challenging (a kind of partnership I wouldn’t want for myself if I had the choice) and yet I know, deep in my bones, that these relationships also work very well for the people involved.

Interestingly, we don’t seem to question this kind of challenge in work-related partnerships. Usually if people hear that business partners "don't get along", we assume that one temperament balances the other for success. We rarely assume the same when it comes to love relationships.

I think it finally depends on temperament. Some temperaments thrive on friction and challenge, some on support and nurturing. I too fall squarely into the latter group—so I would just like to thank both my husband and you, Deb, my work partner, for challenging and pushing me, but for mostly nurturing. I wouldn’t be the same without you.

Deb and Barb Have A Three-Way (a best friend might be involved)

Deb and Barb Have A Three-Way With Cheryl

The Open Door Policy

Our lovely Cheryl

Cheryl: Thanks to Barb and Deb for asking me out to play. Any qualms I may ever have had about blogdom have been put aside by my stroked ego. Suddenly baring my soul to masses of unknown and possibly scary strangers (I still harbour boogeyman trepidation) lost its power when two actual writers whom I respect thought enough of me to invite me aboard their baby.

Which brings me to my theme: walking through the open door. 

I’ve come to believe that, whenever what we’re “supposed” to do is as clear as mud, all we need do is wait to see what the universe offers up. All the planning, capitulation, and manipulation with which I’ve ever forced my will has brought me … I start to say “aggravation”, but will go the high road and use “hard-learned lessons”.  But when I centre myself and look for the opportunities that present themselves, having faith that they will serve my greater good, perhaps not comfort but good, I can at this point in my life go with the flow. There was a time––a long time––when, if a plan had been made, even just a thought had been thought, come hell or high water I would make sure that it came to fruition. It never occurred to me that, just maybe, what I perceived as an unwelcome interruption or a dastardly detour might offer a happier road, a new insight, some growth, a new friend even.

Twenty-four years ago I fell in love with a man. I had always been peeking around emotional corners to find the someone whom I would recognize emotionally and spiritually as THE ONE and there he was. My One and Only. I recognized him in the deepest part of me. But there were hurdles to overcome. Scary hurdles. Hurdles that stoked my deepest fears.

The universe had gone to great lengths to get our paths to cross. A series of “coincidences” had contrived to open a door to this new relationship. Would I let my fear walk me away from that door?.......

When I was in Grade Six I had the scariest teacher in the school––old Mrs. Wheeler (originally Miss Pea, but Mr. Wheeler scooped up that cranky gal late in life). I was a shy and timid child, but one day I found myself standing up in front of the whole class telling Mrs. Wheeler that I thought she was being unfair to another student. I peed my pants as I was saying it but say it I did. Courage at its … wettest.

Anyway, that same courage is often necessary to walk through open doors. I didn’t want, at the end of my days, to wonder what might have been if I’d walked through that open door to my soulmate. So I summed up that pee-as-you-go courage and walked through the door of opportunity to what, yes, would be some rough times but would end up being the wondrous and definitely meant-to-be marriage we have today and for which I’m so grateful.  

I find the open door policy works for issues far less significant than finding my life partner too. I find those open doors in the daily crossing of paths, in the snatches of conversation that stick with and inspire me, in the page a book opens to. Every day, everywhere. Although admittedly mixing metaphors, this poem I’ve kept since my teen years and which I had read at our wedding puts it well:

Beyond

Ahead of me,

branching from the path,

a new one begins,

slender thread climbing steep

to curve off

among trees.

Everything in me

cautions: keep straight

to the well-worn trail

which can’t lead you

too far wrong.

But I find myself

shedding all doubts

in the way my back bends

to take the rough tilt

of the hill, by the way

my muscles strain

near the top – all of me

so eager

for what lies beyond.

––Raymond Souster

Deb: I have seen that peeing courage in Cheryl many times as she is always one to stand up for the downtrodden. Hopefully she pees in her mind now, not in her pants. Cheryl and I have grown together in friendship since we were eighteen and in theatre school. Outside of our children and husbands, we have been each other's rock, sounding board, sister, advisor and loving friend.

There was a time, only once, years ago where we had a falling out. As I look back on that time, I see how complicated and painful it was for both of us. I see the worst parts of my younger self, the scared and insecure part and the memory of that time shames me. I thought our friendship was done. Both of us did, and during those dark days of our crisis, I was lost and so was Cheryl. But we could not find our way back to each other. We were young so we did not have the tools that experience brings to communicate and work through it all like we do now. (Points for aging!) We were far too young to know that there were much worse things to come in our young lives and that looking back, this would seem like a blip on the radar screen. 

But at the time, it seemed like the worse thing that would ever happen to us. What could be worse than this? Then suddenly,  Cheryl lost her dear darling grandfather, her Gaggy, whom I also knew and loved.

It was a horrible loss to everyone but Gaggy gave us a gorgeous gift with his heartbreaking departure. He brought us back together. He brought us back without fanfare, or drama. Cheryl simply picked up the phone and called me, her voice wrenching out through tears.  "Gaggy's gone."  And we were one again.

I stood by her during that time and not a word of our falling out was uttered. We simply went back to doing what we do best. Loving and caring for each other. The day before Gaggy died I was weeping by myself in my tiny bachelor apartment thinking  "I cannot believe our friendship is over". I needn't have worried. The universe had other plans. Sometimes the universe is very smart.

Barbara: Wow, Deb, what a stunning story of the power of a friendship that was meant to be (the “friend for life” in that old saying: a friend for a reason, a season, or for life). And wow, Cheryl. First of all, just how beautifully expressed is this? And secondly, you’ve put into words (utterly gorgeous words) my own sense of purposeful wandering. I too am a go-getter, a make-things-happen-as-much-as-you-can type of person. But life keeps insisting that it has other plans for me—good plans, better ones.

I had a horrible, terrible emotional, not quite a “breakdown” but something akin to that, something that felt as close to a breakdown as I would let myself get, back in my mid/late-30s. It had everything to do with feeling frustrated and creatively thwarted. And you know what happened? Someone made me pick up The Artist’s Way (which, if you don’t know it, is a guide to unleashing your blocked creative juices) and I started writing again. Didn’t even know I wanted/needed to write again. And then a few years later, someone called me in for a meeting and asked me if I could be on the lookout for film scripts for them, which prompted me to question why, as an actor, I’d never tried to write a screenplay before, which prompted me to begin writing them. And then last year, a collaborator and friend basically told Deb and I to write a blog, it was the way to go. And you know what? It has all been, ALL of it, the scary, unknown, wonderful way to go.

Writing has, if not literally saved my life, certainly made it more wondrous and amazing than anything I anticipated before my crisis. As have all the other paths, aimed for and stumbled upon, that have veered me this way and that. You, Cheryl, and the lovely poem you’ve included here just perfectly capture how brave you have to be to choose life’s off-roading journeys—and how thrilling it is when you do.

Cheryl MacInnis is an actor living in Toronto with her husband and daughter, three dogs and a cat. She is co-creator and partner in Scene and Heard, Inc., a company specializing in communication and presentation coaching utilizing the actors’ training techniques as applied to the demands of the professional business arena. 

Deb and Barb Have A Four-Way (really handsome men might be involved)

Deb and Barb Have a 4-Way With Their Husbands

Colin: When I was approached by Deb and Barb about starting a four-way––and after the original misconception was dealt with––my mind reeled with what I should write about. It is easy to go the “aren’t men and women different” route, or the “why do women always...” tack, or even the “ isn’t that cute, she said whiffy instead of Wi-Fi”, but here’s where I want to go.

Phil, you and I have been extremely lucky with the women that we have pledged our lives to. Women who love and accept us for who we are and have eyes only for us (I’m not counting the time Deb accidentally grabbed your penis, Phil. Have to say, Barb has yet to reciprocate. In fact, she actually slammed her fingers in the car door to stop herself.) (…yup, for full story, click here and scroll down to Barbara's response...)

Here’s the thing: I love being married. Now, being married to Deb probably has a lot to do with it, but still. Since I was a young man, I have always wanted to get married and have a family. You might be surprised to learn that this was not an attractive trait in the dating world in the late 70ʼs early 80ʼs. I kept it suppressed, but it was always there. The only smart thing I did as a young man dating was to follow my instincts in this arena. I trusted that my DNA knew what I wanted. I had been in relationships with women I loved deeply, with women I kinda liked, and with women who apparently had day passes. Yet, no matter the depth of my feeling, I was never close to proposing or even entertaining the thought.

One week with Deb and I knew she was the one. It didn’t hit me like a thunderclap, I didn’t have a Eureka moment, I just knew. Like you know you are breathing. It felt right then and it certainly does now, 22 years later. Marriage was the making of me. I matured. I learned how to pull my weight in a relationship. I learned to cook and to clean (okay, how to “boy” clean. “Girl” clean involves making things sparkle … I mean, come on). I learned about the true meaning of husband and wife. It’s not intense passion every minute of every day, emotional turmoil, suffocating jealousy, wild sex everywhere (though I’m still willing to test that last part). It’s doing the crappy, mundane things in life without question because it helps out your partner or because it just has to be done. It’s sitting together watching So You Think You Can Dance and crying, not just because of the artistry, but also because you understand the passion and dedication needed to make something beautiful. It’s watching a little being you created grow into a person you admire and want to be with because of the right choices you made and in spite of the mistakes. It’s dealing with the tragedies and triumphs of life as a unit, not always saying the right things but always trying. It’s learning about being unselfish, or, at the very least, learning the right time to be selfish.

Sometimes it’s work and sometimes it’s nothing but play. It’s the little moments that surprise you like doing spring cleaning, dirty and sore, glancing at your mate in old clothes, sweating and swearing, and feeling your heart pound so hard you can’t think straight. Marriage never stifled me, or had me feeling trapped, or limited what I could do…. You know, those misconceptions that clueless singles throw out as truths. It freed me.

So thank you, Ms McGrath, for making “I do” the richest, most satisfying sentence I ever uttered. Dinner will be waiting for you when you get home.

Phil: You broke the bro code! Colin, I thought it was implicitly outlined in the code that we must never reveal our true feelings about married life under threat of having our man-cards suspended, or worse, revoked! What have you done, my friend?! What chaos will follow?... An admission that cuddling while watching The Devil Wears Prada for the umpteenth time has its merits? That his and hers mani-pedis are moments to be cherished? That spending hours perfecting a French manicure on your lady is challenging yet strangely enjoyable? That having the place to yourself isn't all that it's cracked up to be if she's not around?

All right, this could get us in deep trouble with the brotherhood, but here goes.

From the earliest age, I always wanted to have a girlfriend. Even before being ruled by raging teenage hormones, I liked the idea of a female in my life for the camaraderie, different insights, and maturity ... my own personal girl if you like. So unlike you, when I met Barbara, I didn't dawdle for a week figuring out that she was the one, I took a well-measured fifteen minutes to decide! Yup, a quarter of an hour is all it took to go from saying, “We should take it slow, keep it casual,” to declaring that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. While quite young at the time, I can assure you that it wasn't related to any kind of "premature" incident that one might succumb to at 18. It was a genuine and deeply committed, damn-the-consequences statement with no taking it back. Good thing she has felt the same way since.

I admit that it took me another 9 years to propose, but it wasn’t due to any sense of apprehension, but rather a belief that we would just progress naturally to marriage with nary a discussion, proposal, or planning; Barb set me straight on that pretty quickly and I stepped up. Luckily she said yes and I am the richer for it.

There are so many qualities I admire about Barbara from her beauty to her amazing empathy for strangers, but it's her knack for making lists that has made me who I am. She's a planner and an organizer and I'm not. She knows how to make lists and stick to an agenda. Her ability to bring things to the forefront and discuss important life issues has given us a beautiful home, two amazing daughters who can speak two languages, swim, dance, paint, ski and play instruments. Without her, my kids would be illiterate, talentless couch potatoes living in an overpriced rental condo.... Actually, without her there would be no kids and all those fine traits would apply to me!

But married life isn't always perfect and we all endure our share of disappointments. Which brings up another point. When Barb met me so long ago in my angst-ridden teens, I was quite the prolific songwriter having penned many tortured ballads about my many failed relationships. She's often asked me over the years for her own song and has been disappointed that none has been written. My answer has always been the same: those songs were unhappy tunes about healing or pleading to save a failed relationship. Since there is nothing broken or in need of healing in our lives the songs are unnecessary and would just ring hollow. Besides, I got the girl this time!

Yup, I like being married to Barb. And waking up everyday and seeing my own personal girl next to me never gets old. 

Okay, that's enough. The damage is done, Colin. The cease and desist orders will be coming shortly asking us to burn our man-cards. But when I see you around the ceremonial bonfire, we'll be in good company with the rest of the happily married real men.

Deb: First of all, I will say after reading both my husband and Phil’s contribution, that we are two lucky women, Barb. But I think the key to our happy marriages lays not only in their love for us or our love for them, but in our mutual love. I know this because I see this in both our marriages all the time. But more than love, I think it is respect that wins the day in a marriage. I will not speak for you, Barb, from this point as you will have your own individual lovely point of view.

But I will speak for Colin and myself and our love.

People often say that it is the little things that break up a marriage and I would tend to agree. But in our case it is the little things that make our marriage soar. I will not sing my own praises here regards our marriage, as this is my love letter to Colin.

My husband does for me. As he spends his day doing all the many things he does, there is never a time where he fails to ask what he can do for me. And I will tell you that he has saved many a stressful day for me in doing so. Besides the fact that he makes me laugh all day long, thus lengthening my already happy life, he constantly reminds me that I am essential, not only in his world, but my own.

Ultimately, it is his love for my Mom and Dad and his Mom and their needs that has made me know what a person of selfless quality he is. He loves my Mom and Dad and cares for them as if he shares their history. And he loves his Mom more and more as he grows older knowing and appreciating the things she has done and sacrificed for him.

That is true love for me. That and his love for the boy.

His love for the boy would take us into an arena that I would not have time for here. As they say ... that’s another story.  

All I know is that whenever he walks in the door, with groceries, with our dogs, home from a trip, or up in the morning, he rises from our bed with my heart in his hand, and I look at him and melt. And he looks at me as if he is seeing me for the first time. To be almost 57 and have your husband look at you like you are 21 and HOT is a feeling that frankly defies description. And the gorgeous part of it is that Cupid’s arrow strikes out of the blue for us, from the bad breath moments to the dressed to the nines. We still get that feeling. Mostly it can happen on any rainy Tuesday morning. And I feel it. With each passing year. More and more and more. God bless him, he loves me, and lordie do I love him.

Annie Lennox has said it for me many a night when I have danced alone in our living room missing him:

Cold is the color of crystal, the snow light

that falls from the heavenly skies.

Catch me and let me dive under

for I want to swim in the pools of your eyes.

I want to be with you

baby oh oh slip me inside of your heart.

And I do. And he does. But the two of us share a feeling and it comes from our mutual favourite film:

You are my lucky star

I saw you from afar

Two lovely eyes at me

They where gleaming

Beaming

I was starstruck

You are my lucky charm

I'm lucky in your arms

You've opened Heaven's portal

Here on earth for this poor mortal

You are my lucky star...

... as I read this to my husband tonight, he came to me and kissed me huge. And I said through piles of tears, “Is it too corny, too much? ... Oh fuck it, I don’t care.”

They say that there is nothing more irresistible than a person who loves you … oh baby.

Barbara: Dear readers, I hope this isn’t all too much for you! I swear, when we asked the guys to 4-way with us, we weren’t expecting THIS!! We thought we’d get something funny, glib, a little cheeky, even subversive. Instead, we’ve been handed a gift so huge, I want to ask every long-term couple to write one letter to each other—just one real love letter.

I get it. Love is the most fraught of our emotions: so easy to fall into, so painful to lose, so beautiful when appreciated, so lonely when unreciprocated, so complicated when you start adding personal disappointments, ambition, needs, illness, ego, ego, EGO!

Here’s the thing surveys on marriages don’t tell you: if you’ve been through the wringer with someone––the good, the bad, the tragic, the ugly, the sublime––and come out of it on the other side, the depth of that love––as each of these stories illustrates so well––is positively epic. It’s not just the chemical connection, the romantic loveliness, the sex (wild or otherwise, Colin), the dinner mate, it’s something deep, relaxed, essential. It takes a loooong, circuitous journey to get to this point. And not everyone is up for it. And not everyone is into it. And certainly both of you have to want it; one can’t want it for both of you.

And after much consideration, I can honestly say that if I had to choose to live with a partner just for the sake of having someone there with whom to weather any and all storms, honestly, I’d rather go it alone. Alone is how I discovered who I really am, is how I found who I was meant to be, is how I learned to grow and bloom and think with clarity. If my partner was just a role-filler living here to get me through tough times or help me raise my kids, then he might as well be a leech sucking up my light and energy.

I’m not with Phil because he props my life up. No. I choose him. I choose him every day. And he chooses me every day. And he knows it, and I know it, and we both love that both of us knows it. Day after day after day.

Phil isn’t just my helpful partner (which he is in spades), he isn’t just my ear, my shoulder, my rock, my love … he lets me be who I need to be. He’s given me room to grow and explore and expand to fill my rightful space. Without all of that, I would certainly be half the woman I am today. With him, am I twice the woman I would otherwise be? Of course not. But I’m eternally grateful that I don’t have to test that theory.

Oh, and his story about telling me within fifteen minutes that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me? I was so smitten, so intoxicated with love, I never heard it. It wasn’t until our teenage daughter bugged him not that long ago for stories of our early relationship that he repeated it out loud. I was floored. Not only was I still waiting for that love song, but those romantic little stories from our past had gone MIA too. He’s not exactly the strong, silent type, but he definitely prefers to show his love for me through gesture, action, and physical affection. And that’s just the way I like it. But, as a lover of words, I’m also taking this blog-post and filing it under: Break Open in Case of Emergency.