arrogance known only

to my wife

My wife loves laughing at me.

We miss each other all the time when we joke around.

She’s got the best deadpan in the world.

There is a time when it’s always funny for both of us.

It usually happens when I’m being fairly serious about stuff. She says that I’m lonely, poetic and of another era.

When we met, I spent a lot of time drinking guiness and eating chicken wings, practicing yoga and walking along the train tracks in Toronto late at night.

Back then I was trying as hard as I could to be lonely, poetic and of another era, but I failed.

I failed because I was not lonely. I had friends. I was not poetic. Perhaps I was if one were to count filthy limericks as poetry. (the word ‘bunt’ is very useful)

As for the other era bit?

Sure.

Hunter gather times. With my brain, that was likely my time.

I like being a handyman.

It’s a kinda throw back job.

Mr, Fixit, the jack of all trades - he’s been around through so many different eras.

As I slip into this new role, I’m slipping further from this era.

Or …