I came across this blog post the other day. Apparently, it’s gone viral. When I saw it, I immediately thought of stealing this guy’s idea, only instead of talking about a mistress as the title alluded – it’s called I’m Dating Someone Even Though I’m Married – I would turn things around and talk about dating my wife.
Then I read it and realized, he stole my idea (or rather, the idea I was going to steal from him in the first place). Oh, well. Great minds think alike.
In the post, the author, Jarrid Wilson, talks about how important it is to never rest on your laurels* and to keep the passion alive through dating, even when it’s your spouse. Especially when it’s your spouse. Complacency leads to boredom, and boredom leads to splitting up your assets. Trust me, there’s no fun in that. Not surprisingly, I believe in this philosophy myself, and think it’s a big reason why Tara and I are so happy together. Last week, I told her I wanted to take her out on a date, and when Friday night rolled around, I wined her and dined her.
*On a side note, I’ve never understood this term. I took anatomy classes in college, and can’t for the life of me remember what part of the body the “laurels” are or where they reside in relation to, say, the gluteus maximus. Probably nearby, since if you’re always “resting” them, that implies sitting. But I digress.
So we went out to Tasty ‘N Sons, one of those typically trendy yet quintessential Portland restaurants. Which means it included things like craft cocktails and dim lighting and bicycle murals on the walls and a rock ‘n roll soundtrack and charcuterie boards (which always include blue cheese and pate made from wild game and house-made dijon mustard but never foie gras, which is way too pretentious for the Rose City) and black-clad servers who continually implore you to pardon their reach while refilling your water glass and no parking lot but easy-to-find street parking because you’re located seemingly in the middle of a residential neighborhood full of sprawling Victorian and Craftsman-style older homes and a minimum of three different variations of pork on the menu (including bacon or pork belly or bacon and pork belly).
Whew. Welcome to Portland!
Anyway, it’s all true, at least for the best restaurants in town, and we had a great date night, even though we were seated at a communal table with five other couples. Fortunately, the table was big enough that we could all stare at the other diners’ entrees and make “that looks great!” comments yet still engage in private conversation, the only reminder that we were in the company of others arriving with an occasional jab in the knee.
Bonus points to Tasty ‘N Sons, because they had doughnuts on the dessert menu. Or rather, chocolate potato doughnut holes. These oversized balls of fried dough were crisp on the outside, soft and chewy in the middle, and dusted with cinnamon, sugar, and cocoa powder. They were served on a plate with creme anglaise, and oh my god, were the best part of an already amazing meal (that included a chicken, hot link, and pork belly cassoulet for me and a pork chop with bacon jam for Tara).
This, following the spontaneous candlelight-and-jazz home-cooked dinner she made recently in which we actually sat at the dining room table instead of on the couch with plates balanced on our knees.
And the Moondoggies show at the Doug Fir a few weeks ago. Tickets were $12 apiece. Proof that dating doesn’t have to cost an arm and a leg.
This recent excellent meal out, and an email exchange with my mom, does have me wondering if I might have been adopted.
My parents are on vacation in Florida this week. We were exchanging one of those making-small-talk-to-let-you-know-we’re-alive emails in which we discussed the airplane flight, the weather, and work. Just idle chitchat. And then I asked them what they were having for dinner that night.
“Sandwiches,” my mom replied.
Hold on. You’re on vacation in Florida, and you’re eating sandwiches?! I would understand if this meant they were grabbing a Cubano or a Po’Boy from a local sandwich shop, but I know my parents very well. I guarantee they were sitting in the kitchen of their condo, assembling either bologna or boiled ham sandwiches on some sort of deli roll with a pickle on the side and a bag of chips. This being a vacation and all, there was probably some sort of cookie in the mix, as well.
There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, mind you. It’s actually a smart and economical way to vacation. It’s just that, when I’m on vacation, I’m ordering $47 ribeye steaks and $15 cocktails from upscale restaurants owned by former NFL stars or, at the very least, exploring the local cuisine. Which meant buffalo burgers and Moscow Mules in Denver, green chilies and chorizo in Ely, Cincinnati chili in Ohio, and peanut snapper and oyster shooters on the Oregon coast. It’s just how Tara and I roll.
Like I said, to each their own.
Hope you have a great weekend! We’ll be busy apartment hunting on Saturday and watching football on Sunday. Go, Broncos!!!