My People

When slotting people into convenient categories, my husband and I refer to his people (i.e. engineers who like spreadsheets) and my people (i.e. eccentrics with a passion for dark poetry). Rule-oriented and logical, Rod's people work with the system. My people focus on the important things--words, ideas, and art--and have difficulty navigating through the more mundane tasks of life (i.e. I will often make coffee and then promptly forget to drink it; our house is littered with half-filled cups).

Different people groups don't always understand each other--or even recognize each other as "people."* Marriage thus involves a good deal of dialogue and open-minded participation in what is essentially a foreign culture. For example, I recently attended an engineering party in which participants played a sexualized version of Tetris, imitated other engineers, and discussed titillating details regarding slurry piles and lump dumps.

Tonight was Rod's turn to experience culture shock. Along with Rod's colleague, we attended the Full Moon Cafe, a get-together of artists/musicians/writers.

Upon our arrival, the drumming began. We were invited to sit in a small circle and select an instrument. The session felt ominous at first: as the drums beat, we wondered if we would ever get our five dollars back. We stared at other participants and noted that some were grinning sheepishly and providing only a half-hearted accompaniment. It was awkward at best.


Then a miracle happened. Rod selected the egg--a marvelous egg-shaped shaker--and oh, how he did play! The group grew larger and everyone relaxed and started having fun. A series of performances followed--a belly dance and numerous musical pieces--and Rod even hummed along to the music.

Tonight my respect for this man grew. Somewhere in Rod's heart, an egg-shaped creative void was waiting to be filled. And by embracing differences, he drew me nearer. Now if I could only learn to love spreadsheets . . .

*In our household, there also exists Holden's people (good rabbits who know how to use the litter box) and the gray people (a largely misunderstood and persecuted group of feathered folk). I, of course, am a passionate defender of gray rights.