Bachelor Day

The Wife was away all day, at a Toastmasters conference. She got up before the sun (no mean trick in early November) and is still out of the house. So what did I do with my bachelor day? Lots of scotch and stogies? Poker with the boys? Shopping for boats or high-end stereo equipment?

Sad to say, not much exciting. I played Civilization for a while, I cleaned up the accumulated dog shit in the back yard, I went grocery shopping, I cleaned the kitchen and bathroom fixtures, I vacuumed the carpets, I played with the dogs, I listened to some music on the cable TV music stations, I did my laundry, and now I’m sitting down with the computer to survey college football scores and politics. I see Tennessee lost in the last minute, and it looks like that’s what’s happening to Harold Ford, too. I’m not sure if I should take heart or be disheartened by that.

But I’m not particualrly disheartened by a pedestrian Saturday by myself. I would rather have a nice, comfortable domestic life than a wild bachelor existence — when I was single, it wasn’t all that great anyway. My only real concession to not having The Wife around today was that I made turkey tacos for dinner; The Wife doesn’t care for them for some mysterious reason. Fresh tortillas make a difference.

Burt Likko

Pseudonymous Portlander. Homebrewer. Atheist. Recovering litigator. Recovering Republican. Recovering Catholic. Recovering divorcé. Recovering Former Editor-in-Chief of Ordinary Times. House Likko's Words: Scite Verum. Colite Iusticia. Vivere Con Gaudium.