Preachers In Skirts

 

 

"Oh, the little lady preacher from the Limestone church

I'll never forget her, I guess.

She preached each Sunday morning on the local radio

With a big black Bible and a snow-white dress. ~ Tom T. Hall

 

 

 

Every summer around this time, the national news media reports on the annual Southern Baptist Convention meeting.

 

Any good Southern Baptist should (and will) tell you that the Southern Baptist Convention exists only when the Southern Baptist Convention is convened.  The rest of the year, it is a bunch of cooperating churches that send their monies to the Cooperative Program, which supports missions, colleges, et. al. In other words, each church is independent. Don't make me explain it again.

 

Southern Baptists are not a creedal people. They don't repeat The Apostle's Creed every Sunday morning.  They repeat college football scores in the Fall.

So, all Southern Baptists don't (watch this next word) necessarily believe everything other Southern Baptists say they believe.  

 

One time, and this is the truth, I was in a Southern Baptist church, and the preacher was preaching against reincarnation.   A man stood up and said, "YOU ARE WRONG," and walked out of the service.  It turned out that this gentleman had been a member of this church for quite some time. I've never met a Southern Baptist who believed in reincarnation before. 

 

 

However, Southern Baptists have something called "The Baptist Faith and Message," which lists the doctrines Southern Baptists believe.  To be in good with other Southern Baptist churches, churches must follow "The Baptist Faith and Message," or they can be kicked out of the "fellowship" of Southern Baptist churches. They write it in bold letters so nobody is mistaken. 

 

Every so often, they try to "update"  this "confessional." They want to make it appeal to as many people as possible while trying to be as Biblical (this is a big word in Baptist circles) as possible.

Therefore, when the Baptist Faith And Message is updated, it must come before the entire convention for a vote. 

 

This year, in the Convention, the issue of the day was women pastors.

This, my friends, is a tertiary matter. By that I mean, there are issues which are essential the Christian faith. For example: God.  It is essential for a Christian to believe that there is a God.  It is also essential to believe in God to be a Baptist. I know that is real dogmatic. 

 

Then there are matters which are secondary to faith.  Example: Baptism.  All Christian denominations (that I know anything about) believe in some form of Baptism. Some believe in Infant Baptism. Some believe in pouring. Baptists believe in "Believers'  Baptism" in which people above the "age of accountability" are baptized by immersion (or drowning).  We wouldn't say our Presbyterian friends were not Christians.  They are just not Baptists. 

 

Women in the pulpit is tertiary because there are compelling arguments on both sides of the issue. Really. I know people don't like nuance, but you could make a case for Women pastors. For example, throughout scripture, God utilized female leaders, such as the prophet Deborah, Phoebe (a deacon), and Priscilla (who taught the minister Apollos).  Also, Inez Manis was a deacon in the Disciples of Christ church we went to when I was a child, so that's my momma you're talking about. (As a side note, I don't think Mom ever preached although it would have been on never joining the Columbia Record Club.)

 

On the other side, when the Bible talks about offices in the church, it refers to males holding those offices. It just does.  (Note:  I know this isn't very intellectual or deep.)  

 

Both sides have their irrelevant parts to their arguments.  On one side, there's talk about misogyny, "the old boy's network" and the issue with Pastors not keeping their grubby hands off of the female members of the church.  Also, apparently, the nasty old conservative boys ran Beth Moore out of the convention.*

 

On the other side, it has been noted that denominations that have female pastors are generally liberal and before you know it, the Southern Baptist Convention will have kids carrying the Rainbow flag at the start of Vacation Bible School if we start allowing female pastors.**

 

Here's my conclusion.  I'm with you fellers.

 

I that sounds "beta",  but I'm ready to do anything that will shut down all of the Facebook posts that are TL/DR (too long didn't read).

 

I just wouldn't feel comfortable attending a church that has a woman pastor. That's just me. I've been exposed to several lady preachers from various denominations and I wasn't impressed. Maybe I'm capture 

by toxic masculinity.

 

Or maybe, just maybe, I think it is something that is more influenced by contemporary culture than anything else. This current, unspoken misandrist philosophy that men are just a bunch of apes wearing cargo pants and the gals just have to tame them.

 

By the way, I remember a conversation my mom had with her friend, Sarah.  Sarah was a Presbyterian and one of the smartest people I've met. 

 

Sarah: "We've got a new pastor."

 

Mom:  "Oh, yeah?"

 

Sarah: "She's a skirt. She's real smart."

 

Both took a long drag from a cigarette and then laughed.

 

 

*Beth Moore is a popular Christian writer who spoke at a lot of ladies conferences.  People, especially the ladies, adore her.  Well, one of her books had something in it that another preacher (not a Southern Baptist, by the way) said something wasn't Biblical and the Twitter crowd hounded her out of the denomination. 

 

**The biggest weakness I see from the Egalitarian side is they pretend there is no such thing as Progressive/Liberal/mainstream theology.  

 

   

 

 

 

 

 

We Are Old

 

 

 

There's a new show on Netflix called "The Boroughs." The internet says, "The Boroughs unfolds in a seemingly idyllic New Mexico retirement community where a grieving newcomer joins a group of misfit seniors to confront an otherworldly threat intent on stealing the one thing they have least—time."

 

A better way to describe it is to call it "Old Fart Stranger Things."

 

The Duffer Brothers are the "Executive Producers" of "The Boroughs," which leads to this question: Are they paid by separate checks, or do they both have to endorse one check?

 

Having The Duffer Brothers involved means the soundtrack to the show sounds a lot like "Stranger Things". (Think: "Dee-dee-dee-dee-dee") There's also a lot of what Ludlow Porch would call "Booger Stuff"-monsters, etc.

 

We're not done watching it yet, but it seems like a good show. The cast is pretty good. One problem: Geena Davis, who is the hawt old lady, speaks like her mouth is wired shut.  Has she always spoken like that, or was I always just slobbering over her not to notice?

 

There's a side issue of where the main character's daughter wants the main character's copy of "Born To Run".  It was 50 years ago this year that Bruce Springsteen somehow made the covers of Time and Newsweek, and you could not believe what a big deal it was at the time. 

 

 [Note to younger readers: Time and Newsweek were "news magazine" and their purpose (besides giving Richard Nixon a headache) was to review the news of the past week or to spot new trends in popular culture.]

 

 [Another note to younger readers: "Born To Run" was a good album, and Springsteen wasn't in his prophet mode yet.]

 

 [Another another note to younger readers:  I was attending Wheeler High School (School Motto: "Where The Gum Bought Yesterday Is Chewed And Placed Under The Desks Today By The Leaders Of Tomorrow") in 1975, and I promised you nobody in my class had a copy of that album until 1981.]

But one of the things that struck me about "The Boroughs" is that it is about people my age dealing with what people my age deal with.

 

The actual "Borough" is like "The Villages" in Florida, and if you have been paying attention, it is where Peepaw and Meemaw go to shake their groove thang. 

And each character in the show is dealing with their own stuff. One guy is still tomcatting around. Another is an old hippie. One has cancer. Just like my crew.

 

A few months ago, we went to a funeral of a girl I've known since I was fourteen. Someone said, "You know, we are going to be going to more of these."  Geez, don't remind me.

But that's life. One minute, you are graduating from high school.  Then college. Then you are going to weddings. Then the babies come. Then you are going to the kids' parties. Then you go to the weddings of the kids. Then to the birth of your grandkids.  You look in the mirror, and you see gray hair. Or no hair.

 

 You find yourself explaining your history to younger people like you are Abe Simpson:  "I wore an onion on my belt which was the style at the time."

You find yourself wanting to be hip and young. The problem: you are not hip and young. You are wise and experienced. That means you are old.

 

 Abe Simpson also said, "I used to be with it, but then they changed what it was. Now what I'm with isn't it, and what's it seems weird and scary to me and it'll happen to you, too."

 

You are so right, Abe.  

 

 

 

Return To Office

 

 

As you all know by now, I have been retired for almost two years.  As we say in church, it has been glorious.

I have been in ZERO meetings. I have not answered a single email.  I have not written any goals for the next fiscal year. I have done nothing. 

This song from "Bob's Burgers" describes my feelings about being retired. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing makes me happy.
Doing something is what I avoid.
I adore diddly-squat
It thrills me a lot
And nothing never gets me annoyed

Nothing, nothing, nothing makеs me happy
Nothing brings me nothing but joy
So if you haven't tried nada
I really think you oughta
'Cause all play and no work make me 
a big old sexy boy. 

 

However, I know that some of you are still employed, and many of you work from home.  I worked from home for six years, and it was almost as good as retirement. Except for that work part. 

My wife has been working from home since the Pandemic. But her company (a large tech firm that rhymes with "Sicromoft") has started a program of bringing its employees back to the office. 

Now let's look at the pros and cons for employers bringing employees back to the office to work. 

The Pros of returning to the office from the employer's point of view.  

• Spontaneous team collaboration.  Yeah, when I was in the workforce and at the office, spontaneous team collaboration usually took the form of gossip.

• Direct performance management. It is easier to tell people to "shut up and get back to work" when you can see them.

• Stronger organizational culture. The employees can see who else is miserable in the company. 

• Simplified IT and data security. This one is actually right because when you have an IT problem working from home, you have to "call" an IT service center, which is in another country ("My name is Bob and I just happen to sound like a woman"). But at the office, they usually have Bob, or Nathan, or Rex, or Amber, or Cherise, or a million more young people who were born when Clinton was President to come work on your computer.

 

The Cons For Employers

 

• Risk of losing high-performing talent. People would rather work at home than have to drive into the office.

• Breakroom. Have to provide a snack machine and a soft drink machine to the ingrates. Plus table and chairs.

• Free coffee! It costs money, and everybody has coffee breath.

• Lower employee engagement/morale. Your dumb-butt employees are depressed that they are still being punished for not doing their homework in ninth grade.

• Expensive real estate overhead. This also includes desks, computers, pens, and sticky notes, which I had one boss tell me were not cost-effective.

• Smaller, localized recruitment pool. This means local goobers that are not smart enough to hail a cab in Mid-Town Manhattan.  I've had two different bosses in two different companies tell two different departments that I worked in that they could find people to replace us at the bus stop.

 

 The Pros of Returning to the Office for Employees.

• Better Networking.  You can kiss up in person with more success. 

• Defined Boundaries.  My wife can confirm that when I left the office for the day, I was done with work. I brought no work home because I didn't have a computer or a sticky pad, for that matter.

• Fewer Digital Loops.  Fewer emails and more direct conversations with your boss.  Wait, this is supposed to be a positive.

• Social Connections.  You actually know what your coworkers look like. 

• Radio Habits.  You get to listen to FM Morning Wake Up Zoo Crew on WTRD (The Turd) with Jerry, Jeff, Walker the Texas Ranger on Sports, and Lovey Dovey with the news on the drive in to work. 

• Food.  People bring everything to the office. Donuts, candy after Halloween, Pizza if you meet a "goal", and hash browns if someone doesn't like it in their breakfast combo. One guy at my wife's office would bring in a loaf of bread and put it in the breakroom at the beginning of the workday and every single slice of bread was gone by lunch. 

 

 The Cons for Employees

• Financial Drain: You spend money on gas, your clothes (current office dress codes can range from professional attire to business casual to Saturday at Walmart), and lunch, which should be planned for as soon as you sit at your desk.

• Time:  You lose a lot of time. You get up earlier, you go to bed earlier, and the days blend in together. Plus, you can never stay up late to watch any championship game because they all start about the time you have to go to bed. Plus, you have to figure out some time to go to the bathroom.

• Other parts of life: you have to constantly use your PTO for doctor's appointments, to get the oil changed in your car, or the million and one things you have to do for your kid.

• Sensory Overload:  It is hard to concentrate on your work or that podcast you like with all of the noise in the office.

 

So, cheer up office staff! Soon you can meet all of your old pals that haven't taken an early retirement package.  I'll be watching from home.  

 

 

Hello, Graduates

 

 

If I gave a commencement address.

Hello, graduates. 

At long last, this institution, which prides itself on preparing young people for the future, insists that you listen to at least one more boring, irrelevant lecture from someone who you would say is "some old flatulence."  You say this because you have borrowed a lot of money to attend this university, and you need to use big words. 

You live in challenging times. La-te-fricken' da.  Everybody has lived through challenging times.

You think having Boomer or GenX parents was rough.  Try having parents who survived The Great Depression, only to have World War II (that's Two, not Eleven, as one member of Congress recently said) start.

When Grandpa got home from the War, he and Meemaw went at it like two spotted apes, quickly having babies. These babies grew up to be the most privileged snots ever in the history of man, until, well, y'all showed up.

These guys didn't want to serve in the Army. They wanted to grow their hair out to make room for their brains. It didn't work.

They changed popular culture. Unfortunately, they also created Disco music, for which I am ashamed. 

Yes, we are handing it off to you. But first, a couple of things.

One, please, for the love of everything holy, stop wearing those awful nose rings that look like you are having a metal runny nose. I always want to hand out a Kleenex when I see one.

Two, just stop. Stop with all the finger wagging, all the hectoring, all the pulling new words out of your butt. Stop with all of the lectures. Stop with all of the shaming. Stop with all of the contrary opinions just because you want to be contrary.

Recently, a movie called " Michael " came out, and it was about the entertainer Michael Jackson.  This class has no idea what a big deal Michael Jackson was. He made Taylor Swift seem like a complete unknown.  He was huge.  He could sing. He could dance. He could only wear one glove and not have to explain it. 

However, there were parts of Michael Jackson's life which were, as you kids say, problematic. The movie doesn't address this. It addresses the Pepsi commercial in which his hair caught on fire. 

On my Facebook feed, if I saw one OMG THIS MOVIE IS SO GOOD comment, I saw ten. I didn't comment on the posts.  I just scrolled past the posts.  If someone wants to idolize Mr. Jackson, that's between them and Jesus. 

As far as the job market goes, good luck. Sorry, I don't know what else to tell you.  I graduated with a liberal arts degree from a small Southern school and somehow found a job, married my wife, had a child, and bought a house. It is possible. 

I wouldn't recommend my route to anyone. But, and this is important. It worked out because I learned a simple rule.  Show up.

It is important to show up to work. Woody Allen said 90 percent of success is just showing up. That's true.

Also, believe me, this is true: Set aside money in a 401k. Especially if the company you work for matches it.

Finally, remember that the days drag on, but time flies by.  You'll look around, and your kid will be getting married, and they'll start having babies, and those babies will insist you watch a show with them called "Lucas The Spider" (and I am not making this up).

You will notice gray in your hair.  It becomes harder to get up out of a chair. You'll look back on today as "the good old days". 

So get out there and get a job.  Some of us are on Medicare and Social Security. We are counting on you!

 

About Some 70s Music

 

 

 I hate to tell you that my 50th high school class reunion is coming up next year.

Yes, I and some other Wheeler "Wildcats" are planning a gala 50-year reunion. 

You may remember, in 2017, we celebrated our 40th high school reunion and yours truly was the Grand Host. I told a couple of jokes and introduced The Grammar Hammer himself, Roger Hines, who spoke to us about the importance of split infinitives. Or gerunds. Something like that. All I know it was a long time ago and I didn't study for the test. 

So, I have been thinking about the 70s a lot.  

As a person who majored in history, and yes, somehow managed to find a job, I think the 70s can be defined as the era when hit records, even though they "sounded" good, were actually strange.

I think you can determine if someone is eligible for Medicare by simply walking up to them and say: THE SIGN SAYS YOU GOT TO HAVE A MEMBERSHIP CARD TO GET INSIDE.  If they grunt ("HUH"), then you know they are somewhere in their sixties. 

This is a lyric from the song "Signs" by The Five Man Electrical Band. Upon hearing this song, for the first five thousand times on WFOM-1230, you think it is about "signs" and how they are "breaking my mind," and that is not a good thing. 

However, somewhere in my adulthood, I realized the song "Signs" is about a guy who wants to argue with people. 

The song begins, "The sign said long-haired freaky people need not apply".  The singer put his hair up under his hat and went in to talk to the owner of the business who needed help. This guy was so brilliant that the owner decided to hire him on the spot. The singer took off his hat to show up the owner THAT YES, A LONG HAIRED FREAKY PERSON CAN BE IMPRESSIVE.

This tells me a couple of things. One, the singer is unemployed. Two, the most he would do to get a job is to stick his hair up under his hat. 

The song continues:

And the sign said
"Anybody caught trespassin'
Will be shot on sight"
So I jumped on the fence and I yelled at the house
"Hey! What gives you the right
To put up a fence to keep me out
But to keep Mother Nature in?
If God was here, he'd tell you to your face
'Man, you're some kind of sinner'"

 

I don't know what gave him the right.  The deed of property?  Just a thought.

My Baptist background would add that God would tell him that ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, even long-haired freaky people.

I like the idea of this guy sitting on a fence just yelling at the property owners.  They are in their house, watching a ball game or something. Husband says to the wife: "You hear anything?"  The wife says, "Yeah, just another long-haired  freaky person."

There was another song by the ultimate White person's band, Bread.  Bread was actually a bunch of studio musicians who would get together and cut an album.  The head Bread guy was David Gates, who would write these really sappy love songs.

Like "Baby, I'm A Want You".  I need Roger Hines to tell me if this is a grammatically correct sentence. It don't think it is. I'm always wary of songs that put in a superfluous letter A, like "The Times They Are A-Changin'".  Look Bob, just say the times are changing.

Their most hilarious song is "Diary".

 "I found her diary underneath a tree
And started reading about me."

How many times have you run across a book, picked it up and started reading it ("It was the best of times, it was the worst of times") and think, "Hey this is about me!"

It continues.

"When she <was>confronted with the writing there
Simply pretended not to care."

Actually, her reaction was, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING READING MY DIARY YOU KNUCKLEHEAD."

Then he learns the sad truth.

"The love she'd waited for
Was someone else, not me."

That'll teach him to read someone's diary without their permission. 

My friend, Terry McCoy, who is a songwriter in his spare time, commented on my Facebook page about this song, "I’ve always thought it was weird that anyone would write down their deepest, honest thoughts about everything. What good can come from that?"

I'll tell you, Terry. Nothing good could can come from that. But, at least it's not a sign. 

 

 

 

 

"The Madison": A Review

 

 

As you know, this blog has a regular feature called "Like It or Lump It" in which I review various streaming shows and advise if the show is worth watching. 

I've decided to review another show from the Taylor Sheridan TV factory, "The Madison." However, I'm going to leave it to you if you want to watch it or not.

One reason for this is that "The Madison" is a well-made TV show.  It has that Montana (or Utah, standing in for Montana) background which is just awesome.  The rest of the show has some problems.

First, you have to know that THERE WILL BE SPOILERS. You can't review this show without revealing a major event that drives the narrative of the show.

Michelle Pfeiffer and Kurt Russell play a happily married, rich couple who have two adult nitwit daughters and live in New York City.  Russell became rich from one of those jobs in which money rolls in, just because he (in the words of my wife) is "still fine".  

Evidently, Russell is originally from out west because he spends a couple of weeks at a little compound he and his brother own somewhere in Montana so they can fish together and drink booze. 

Michelle never goes on these outings because she is, and this is a direct quote, "a city mouse."  I have never heard anyone use this phrase in my life, and I'm old.

Russell and his brother fly fish, which Vice President Cheney used to do.  I don't get the appeal of fly fishing but my theory is it is a new hobby of Taylor Sheridan just like that hobby of the sliding horses in "Yellowstone." 

Well, Russell and his brother decided to fish at this river, which is just stocked full of fish. They fly over to this river in his brother's airplane, which is just a little prop plane. A storm comes up, and instead of just waiting out the storm, Russell and his brother head back in the little plane.  From there, they are bounced around in the plane, and the plane hits an inconveniently placed mountain.

Michelle is eating at a fancy-smancy New York restaurant, the kind where you see more plate than food, when she receives a phone call from Montana stating Kurt and the brother have been killed in a plane crash.  Montana never calls just to chat. 

Michelle proceeds straight into I'M GOING TO WIN AN EMMY FOR THIS IF THIS IS THE LAST THING I DO mode and begins to caterwaul. She leaves the restaurant to gather the girls to go to Montana.

The youngest nitwit daughter is married to a beta guy who works at Vandelay Industries and is an importer-exporter.  She got mugged early in the episode mainly to show how dangerous it is to be a city mouse.

The oldest nitwit daughter is a divorcee with two daughters who go to The Woke Private School and learn how to scold people for using the wrong words because that promotes equity.

Well, Michelle, the daughters, granddaughters, and son-in-law all travel to Montana to pick up Kirk Russell's body. When they land in Montana, "The Madison" flips to television's favorite trope: the fish out of water.

Despite the incredible cinematography and the big-time star power, "The Madison" is a melodramatic version of "Green Acres", except with more f-bombs. ("Oh, Ollie-vah, I made your breakfast."  "Mr. Douglas, that is one big mother <bad word> pancake.")

Michelle and gang would make a sailor blush with all of the swearing. It is almost non-stop, and I guess you could argue that the tragedy makes everybody lash out, but it makes Michelle the most non-sympathetic widow in the history of mankind. She is always cussing out somebody about something, usually for no reason except Kurt is gone and I feel bad, boo-hoo.

It is sort of like if there was a sequel to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross's book "On Death And Dying", called "The Stages of Grief".

Stage One: Catawaulling

Stage Two: Swearing.

One thing about a Taylor Sheridan project is that he tries to own the libs in his shows.  A lot of people (not me) object to this.  I don't object because I lived in the era of the Norman Lear comedies in which somebody, usually Archie Bunker, would say something bigoted or mean, and Rob Reiner would roll his eyes and give a speech proving Arch was full of beans.

Sheridan does spend a lot of time showing what a good salt of the earth people the Montana folk are and Michelle and company are not because they are a bunch of snots. 

But I think the real problem is that while the show is wallowing in grief, nobody ever really addresses this question:  If this man was her soul-mate for lo these many years, how come she never visited the compound before his death?  It looks like she would have been there at least once, if not to prepare everybody for the outhouse.

I know there's a lot of waves of emotion when a loved one dies, but Michelle's performance of walking into a river with her fancy clothes and sleeping by the gravesite seems just a little bit....too much. 

Violence:  None, except for a plane crashing into a mountain.   The one good thing the nitwit youngest daughter did was bust some Gen Z young lady in the chops after that lady celebrated the death of another rich white man. That was pretty sweet. 

Sex:  There's a lot of talk about between Beta Son-in-law and the nitwit youngest daughter about possible doing the South Carolina Lovey-Dovey, but then she gets mad at him for something stupid.

Nudity:  The youngest daughter is stung on her heiney by wasps that had a nest in the outhouse and you see the nekkid wasp stung bottom. (I saw Nekkid Wasp Stung Bottom open for Toad The Wet Sprocket.)

Language: Pretty bad.

"The Madison" has been renewed for a second season, which means Michelle will be able to express her grief in loud wails and cuss words just like a city mouse.

 

 

40

 

 

My wife and I just celebrated our 40th anniversary.

It is really strange because in the past, couples who celebrated their 40th anniversary were always old people.  My wife and I are still spring chickens, which is not unusual for our peer group.  Most of the people we know insist that they are young whippersnappers who just happen to go to bed at nine o'clock.

Anyway, when we married, Ronald Reagan was President.  Donald Trump was still married to his first wife, I think.  

Televisions were big and heavy. Our first "big" purchase as a couple was a VCR.  Somehow, we managed to hook it up without coming to blows.

We lived in an apartment complex. The complex is still there.

I've been thinking about marriage lately and how some make it to forty years and some don't. 

One guy I enjoy reading is James Lileks, formerly of the Minneapolis Star-Tribune.

Lileks is exactly one year older than me and was the Lewis Grizzard/Dave Barry of Minneapolis.  Great writer. Posts a five-day week blog called "The Bleat".

Well, Lileks, to be blunt, isn't quite as woke (and I know that makes me sound like the guy at the loading dock who only watches FOX News) as people who want to control public discourse in Minneapolis expect.  He wrote a joke (a joke!) in a humor column (the nerve!) and had his column yanked away.  He was placed on the fast-paced Twin Cities Architecture beat.  He eventually took a buyout. 

He is getting a divorce from his wife. They were married a year or two after us.  They share a grown daughter.  He writes about the breakup in "The Bleat". Some of it is heartbreaking.

There's a lot of speculation, in the comments section of the blog, but really, there's no way to know. Just two people who are going their own way. 

Roger Miller had an old country song that said it best regarding husbands and wives. "Some can and some can't."

My secret?  I talk to my wife, and if she doesn't want to do something, we don't do it.  It is as simple as that.  If she wants to do something and I don't, well, we do it anyway. I have no strong opinion about a lot of things, like movies, where to eat, and whether we need to go to the grocery store. 

Just decide which hill you want to die on. For example, if my wife wanted to rob a bank, I would argue with her. 

Secondly, I would advise all couples to decide who is going to handle the finances. Make a budget. Try to keep it.  My mother told me that marriages either fail in the bedroom or the bank book.  That's pretty much true.

One thing I would caution young people on: everybody wants the Instagram pictures and all that. That's great, but marriage is not just the wedding. A marriage is something you have to work at. That means talking and listening. It means giving and taking. 

It also helps if you marry a wonderful person, as I did.