WATCHING TELEVISION AND WONDERING IF ‘THE ONE’ IS RIGHT

Watching television with my wife usually means murder mystery. The English-ier the better.

Lately we’ve drifted into Law and Order: SVU. It’s always full of grizzly details that makes my skin crawl.

Most recently we saw The One and my skin is still crawling. Is it good question to ask?

Do you think you’re The One? But that’s not the real question.

The real question is, “Are you the RIGHT one?”

Is that any way to enjoy watching television together?

Her: Are you The One?

Me: One what?

Her: Like the show. Are you the one?

Me: Like are we universally linked as a perfect match based on DNA analysis? Like the show? That one?

Her: Yes, that’s it.

Me: And like the show, if I’m not The One, I ought to run off in a world search to find them?

Her: That’s not what I meant.

Me: All I can say for sure is you’re The One for me.

Her: But how do you know if you’re The One? How do I know?

Me: Let’s review. The boyfriends you’ve told me about? I’m more The One than any of them. Maybe twice The One. All of them combined.

Her: What about your past girlfriends? Were any of them The One?

How To Know If You’re Watching Television The Wrong Way

Television should be easy on the eyes, unless you watch Fox News and match their creepy guys with their painted ladies. If that’s you channel, and you get angrier and angrier every minute it’s because you’re getting your buttons pushed?

You’re doing it wrong.

If you watch sports and get angrier and angrier the longer the games go, win or lose?

You’re doing it the wrong way, again, but the two responses are common. Too common.

Watching television ought to be more like reading a good book where the writer takes all of the rough parts and smooths them out to keep the pages turning.

Watching The One started feeling odd.

Her: What if you’re not The One?

Me: What’s it take to be The One, besides DNA?

We’d recently signed up on Ancestry and sent a loogie to the lab. The last email I read from them said “You’re DNA is being extracted.”

Her: You never know.

Me: Did you get the Ancestry email about DNA?

Her: Yes.

Me: Good, so we’ve both got that. Maybe they’ll tell you if I’m The One.

Her: That’s more individual, I think, with links to which groups of humans we came from.

Me: I’m pretty sure my human origin started with my mom and dad.

Her: Now we’ll fine out if you’ve got Native American blood. I think you might be Cherokee.

Me: Everyone claims Cherokee. But if I am, does that make me more of The One than being married over three decades, raising kids together, working as a family, staying true to you, and living a faithful life as a married man? What more would The One do?

Her: It’s interesting to think about. I hope you’re not getting upset.

Me: Was I upset when I had to fight your last boyfriend?

Her: It wasn’t really a fight was it? Didn’t he kind of beat you up?

He: Because I let him. If I had worked him over, you probably would have felt sorry enough to marry him instead of me.

Being The One Rules

Which ever one you are in a relationship, just know you’re The One for them. It works best that way. Right up until it doesn’t.

We were watching television where the characters didn’t all respond well to the question of being the one.

Finding out who was who broke up marriages, sent people chasing away for more happiness.

More happiness, as if happy isn’t enough.

There’s an old saying in woodworking: “Better is the enemy of good.”

Her: What if you discovered The One. What would you do?

Me: If I found out The One for me is married to your ex-boyfriend, I’d pay a visit and give him a whoopin’ for old time sake.

Her: What about her?

Me: What about her.

Her: Wouldn’t you want to find out how happy you could be with The One?

Me: But I know who I’m the one for. I’m not going in for seconds. Remember our talk about what happens if one of us dies first? And you said you’d want me to remarry because you didn’t want me to be lonely?

Her: I do, and I remember you reminding me that you weren’t lonely before we met.

Me: Was I?

Her: I met a few of your old girlfriends, but not the one you invited over, and she said, “What for, so you can show your kids who their momma might have been?”

Me: You’d like her. She’s not like your old crush who passed through town on his way to re-hab and asked you out.

Her: That’s not how I remember it.

Me: And I said fine, go ahead.

Her: No, you didn’t. That’s not how I remember it.

Me: But I did save good memories, right?

Her: Did you?

Me: You would have had all of the fun times and trips with him ruined if you saw him and he was a pathetic loser who made a move on you unexpectedly.

Her: He wouldn’t do that.

Me: He would have had the perfect excuse with the stop in re-hab after he called you. He’s married what, four times?

Her: Three.

Me: So three going on four. That could have been you.

Her: Maybe we should turn the channel.

Me: We can’t now. I’m getting into it. Are you The One?

Her: I’m the one for you.

Me: And I love you, honey.

Her: I love you, too.

Me: Would you get up and get me a beer?

Her: Okay.

Me: That’s what The One is supposed to say.

Her: That’s me.