Sometimes I dig around my writing files and find strange stuff that makes me realize how weird I am.
Example: Teddy Roosevelt’s ‘Man in the Arena’ speech from 1910.. turned into ‘Wife in the Arena’… I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume I typed this for my awesome wife on our Anniversary and then did something more normal instead like a ‘My wife rocks’ post on Facebook with a cutesy wedding picture.
“It is not the critic who counts; not the single friend who points out how the married woman stumbles, or where the single woman could have done better.
The credit belongs to the woman who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by sweat and blood and smears of yellow baby poop; who strives valiantly; who errs, who burns dinner and shrinks her husband’s shirts again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to please the husband and care for her family; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends themselves in the worthy cause of femininity; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if she fails, at least fails while loving greatly, so that her place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who live alone with numerous cats, drinking wine from boxes, and sobbing silently into their pints of ice cream while watching romantic comedies.”
Anyways. My wife is pretty awesome… and I’m grateful I was picked over all the other better looking dudes out there.
(There’s something to be said for the big, ugly guy with charisma and a self deprecating sense of humor.)