Pix of Russia

After looking at some children's book about Russia, went through my Moscow pictures from 97-98 when I was doing dissertation research. While it was nice to see the old churches and streets and stuff, the astonishing thing was really how moving it was to see all these pictures of Mary from that long ago and think how simultaneously moving and impressive it is to have been married for so long. It was extremely sentimental to see all this, even though I knew, rationally, that we had been arguing about some ridiculous demand of hers immediately prior to taking the picture, that she had surely bitchily manifested her stunning inability to admit that I had been right.

No but seriously. Back in the 70s and 80s when I was growing up, everybody was always getting divorced (or else should have), and at some level whole marriage thing seemed like a joke. If it wasn't affairs there was always alcohol and wife beating to round things out. I remember thinking that surely I'd get married and that I'd try very hard to make it work, but thought it a pretty quixotic enterprise, all told.

But it turns out their was a deeply misguided ideology of self-actualization afoot, which guys (and ladies, to be sure) used to paint themselves the victims of marriage, work, etc. and justify any number of misconceptions and misdeeds. As if facial hair made the man.