Magazines Are Bad For Me!

I’m beginning to think that magazines are bad for me. Books are still alright because you don’t expect the truth from them. Books are full of exaggerations and adjustments to the truth—even the non-fiction ones. If they were truly factual, wouldn’t they be called that? Shouldn’t our books be fiction and factual? Why didn’t they call them factual and non-factual? That would make as much sense. But this is about magazines, not books, so I will leave that discussion for another time.

Magazines make me feel discontent. The people in magazines have such enviable lives. They go on wonderful vacations and live in beautiful homes with gorgeous gardens. They live in a happy state of easy cooperation and harmony. Everything is organized and spotless in their homes. The garden flourishes and looks like a sub-tropical paradise. Of course there’s a kitchen garden so they can pick fresh cilantro, basil and peppers for their creative meals. They can decorate their house with their own home-grown flowers and ferns. They entertain with such style. Their food is fabulous--imaginative and colorful but, of course, healthy. The table is decorated with flair and panache. The guests are a fascinating mix of people who smile delightedly and toast the host and hostess with enthusiasm for their creative entertaining. Who are these people anyway?

What happened to recipes for pot roast and apple pie with a picture of mom, dad, three kids (one in a high chair) and a dog nearby? The family looked happy to have a meal on the table. None of the kids were crying and mom didn’t look tired so we knew there was an element of fiction involved but at least this was a meal we could probably put together even if the kitchen in the background wouldn’t be quite so tidy.

A recent Better Homes and Gardens magazine had an article titled “Labor of Love” about a couple named Don and Chris who live in Snohomish, Washington. They are a lovely couple and love to garden together. Chris admits that she can’t resist perennials and every time she goes to the nursery she brings more home with her. Don indulges her just as she indulges his passion for roses and so their garden is lush and crowded and they like it that way. The article ends like this:

Nearly every summer evening, as the fragrance of petunias and Nicotiana scent the air, Chris and Don move quietly among the beds, weeding and pruning until the gold light of dusk fades from the sky.

Really? These people are smiling and indulging each other—no questioning about why more plants are bought or where they are to go or who will weed and feed—just moving about in heavenly accord. All they lack are filled wine glasses so they can toast their enviable amiability. Maybe that will come later after they pick their fresh herbs and grill chicken breasts and veggies on their covered deck with the obligatory happy guests. These are the same happy guests we see in every sort of commercial for everything from appliances to beer. Always a nice mixed race, mixed gender, age balanced group. Sometimes there is a child or pet in the background—deep in the background--unless of course they have made an amusing mess that can be instantly solved by the product being advertised.

So now it’s not just magazines, but advertisements in general that I’m complaining about. These articles and advertisements have got me observing couples I see in stores. I’m watching for that easy companionability I see where couples are eager to learn from each other about the relative merits of various cereals and sandwich spreads. If there is a disagreement, it is always humorous and easily resolved.
In real life, at least if Walmart and Safeway are real life, it’s not so easy. People get impatient with each other and with their children. Real people don’t stroll through the aisles amusing each other. Usually, one wants to get done and the other wants to compare labels and prices. Some people say unpleasant things to each other as if they were protected by a privacy envelope. I often wonder how they treat each other at home where they have real privacy.

Of course I know there are couples who live their daily lives with amicable good humor. I’ve seen it. They do everything together and dote on each other. There are probably trade-offs that I don’t see, but whether there are or not, they have mastered the art of paddling along in serene companionability. How do they manage that? Do they talk about it and agree on their rules of engagement or does it just happen? How come no one thinks about these things when they are in love’s first blush--when you want to be together every minute and never run out of things to talk about and agree on everything? When does the tide turn and it becomes safe to say “I don’t like those shows you watch”? Or, “I don’t like this meal—that friend—the way you load the dishwasher”? Darned if I remember--it just happens.

We claim we want the truth in our relationships, but do we really? Don’t we want to know if our pot roast sucks because we added carrots (which our partner hates) or left out the onions (which he loves)? Of course we do. Do we want to be in a phony baloney relationship where no one says what they want? Of course not. What sort of life would that be? On the other hand, just how much truth can we really bear? Truths about our appearance, our habits, our long held beliefs or our method of doing things may not be so welcome. What we do need is a little grace and indulgence. We can tell each other about the things we can change and accept the things we can’t change. AA gets it right. We need the wisdom to know the difference.

If we can muster the grace to forgive our partner’s flaws, wouldn’t we both be better off? Romantic customs hold that one gets on one’s knees to propose marriage. We truly might be better served if we got on our knees every anniversary to beg forgiveness and give it in return. Of course we don’t need to wait for an anniversary to make amends and try for a fresh start but if we don’t do it at all—ever—then where are we?

Forgiveness is a gift best given without fanfare. Apologize out loud and forgive in silence—in your heart. Let it flow like love which, in fact, it is. Being stingy with forgiveness is withholding love. My former mother-in-law was slow to forgive and it hurt. My brother-in-law once said, “She never lets you forget that she forgave and forgot”.

If we can’t forgive and let go of perceived offenses, what do we do then? Do we wait for the absolute end of the rope when truth turns into a weapon of relationship destruction? Do we seek counseling? Do we settle for what we have and try to focus on the good parts? How do we sort out what is worth discussion and what would be best left unsaid? How do we even bring the topic up? Too often, they seem to come ricocheting out of nowhere or angle in sideways in a discussion about something else entirely. They even get inserted into conversations when other people are around--maybe because it feels safer that way. But the point gets made even if there is no opportunity for response or real dialog about it. Then it gets quickly buried again.

Why should marital conversation feel like such a minefield? Shouldn’t it be easier to speak your mind after many years of marriage? Yes, it should. But what happens is that when things are good, it doesn’t seem worth the effort to bring up anything less than pleasant and when things are bad, it feels too risky. Perhaps we need a little signal flag we can put on the table when we want to raise a topic for discussion or a handkerchief we can pull out of our hip pocket and throw on the ground when our partner has committed a foul. Yes, we need better signals.

Or, maybe, we should just stop subscribing to magazines. I could at least try to remember that magazines are fiction and nobody really lives like the people depicted in them. Meanwhile, I’m going to read a good book where people have real problems and would be grateful for the life I lead. I don’t even care that they are fictional people. I’m confident they would trade their life and problems for mine in a heartbeat and I’m equally confident I would turn them down.

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