The World According to Barb: "There's a Sandwich in Every Beer" and other Jon-isms

Hi everyone! Can't believe we made it to fall already. About 15 minutes from now it will be Christmas and then it will be 2022. Wow, that went fast.

I've kept you all updated on both the ups and downs of my love life so thought I might mark the one-year anniversary of our first date by telling you a little more about my man.

A few things about Jon

Man's divine right to hot tubs. Jon strongly believes that as American citizens we have certain inalienable rights, one of which is to be able to sit in hot tubs everywhere. In some areas of the country, the beachfront is public so everyone has a right to be access and enjoy certain areas of the coastline? Jon believes this should also extend to include hot tubs, especially those at expensive hotels. Those are his favorite, despite the fact that these swanky establishments often put security in place to protect the sanctity of their respective hot tubs. Fortunately this is never a problem. He's perfected his tactics over the years, and while I'm sure he would not want me giving away any of his "hot tub poaching" secrets, safe to say his success rate is very high. Once he's breached the perimeter and safely landed, it would take an act of God to remove him. The upside is he's going to drop some cash (beer, food) so these hotels should welcome him with open arms.

"There's a sandwich in every beer." This is typically his response whenever I ask if he's eaten. Perhaps it's the fact that I'm a mother and not a fan of skipping meals, but I do feel the compulsion to ask this grown-ass man if he's eaten. Jon will go half the day without eating or will eat something for breakfast and then not eat all day. Or eat nothing until mid afternoon. But fortunately he is likely not to forget to drink a beer at some point so...well there you have it.

Keeping his mechanics employed. Jon owns multiple used cars, none of which are ever running at the same time. So needless to say he spends a lot of time transporting cars in and out of the shop. He has a Range Rover that was built during the first Bush administration that is a constant money pit, two Toyota FourRunners and recently purchased a used Porsche Boxster. Yes, clearly might be a mid-life crisis thing, but my ex husband's midlife crisis involved a 20-something, mall food court worker (going to have to wait for the book for that whale of a story) so I guess I should be happy that his manifested this way.

His mechanic assured him the Boxster was in mint condition! Two weeks later he awoke in the middle of the night to hear his car alarm blaring in a midst of a thunderstorm. Then he realized that not only was the alarm going off but for some reason his windows have rolled themselves half way down. He thought he had the issue resolved--after McEyver'ing some fix--but later while driving to a meeting, the alarm started going off again. Long story short, it's back in the shop. Shocking, I know. As is the Range Rover.

The big winners in all of this, of course, are his auto mechanics who all coincidentally own very large, expensive boats that they do allow Jon to visit. So you know every time he purchases yet another "money pit" used car, they immediately start thinking of what's the next boat toy Jon is going to help them buy.

Has ukulele, will play...whether you want him to or not. When he let his eldest daughter take his guitar to college in Boston, his new instrument of choice became his ukulele, which he brings everywhere. Literally everywhere. And, he will play it, whether you want him to or not. He has a pretty good voice though I must admit his falsetto, to which he often defers, lands squarely between "not good" and "God awful." What he makes up for in natural skill, however, he more than makes up with raw enthusiasm. He brought it to the Turks & Caicos this winter. My daughter thought it was adorable...for the first hour...as he worked his way through the alphabet, her enthusiasm waned.

Make fast. Having lived in Chicago for many years, Jon is an expert driver/parallel parker and navigator. That said, he firmly believes that you can park pretty much anywhere, even double park, if you have your flashers on. Apparently he thinks the proper use of your flashers can negate any silly driving or parking ordinance. One time he joined me at dinner with some friends. He joined mid-meal and offered to give me a lift home. We came out of the restaurant an hour or so later, and there was his giant Range Rover with this SUP on the top parked in a no-parking zone...with his flashers on.

Best years ever. Jon has two beautiful daughters whom he cherishes, and we have certainly had a great run, thus far, and I know he loves me. Despite this, I can feel fairly certain that no other chapter of his life will ever surpass his four-year, post-college, ski-bum internship in Aspen. He hustled, worked multiple jobs and skied every possible opportunity. During this time, he became a competitive "extreme" skier. He was even in a movie: Aspen Extreme. When he talks about this period, which he does at every possible opportunity, he lights up. It's akin to "This one time at band camp..."

I'm sure an ideal retirement scenario for him would involve a second residency somewhere in the mountains. I'm actually ok with that. A few times he's mentioned that living on a boat has always been a dream. Honestly there are few things I'd rather NOT do more than live on a boat. I'd take a root canal. At least the pain is limited to a few hours. Some of my darker moments have been on boats, staring intensely at the shore or any other immobile object so I didn't throw up...again. Anyway, boats and I have a troubled relationship. A ski house. No problem.

Walking sunshine. That's how I would describe his temperament. Every time I see him, he has a smile on his face and just seems thrilled to be alive. He blessedly tones it down in the morning, but overall he has a very sunny disposition. He greets everyone with a smile or sometimes a wisecrack, and he is game for damn near anything...as long as beer will be served.

This temperament was put to the test recently when Bowie, my youngest dog, got into this jacket while we were visiting my parents, chewed through an interior pocket, got into his wallet and proceeded to eat five $100 bills. I walked into the scene after the fact finding just pieces of bills, staring down at three clearly visible faces of Benjamin Franklin.

I knew enough to know that wasn't a bill I carry often, but could hardly process it. Fortunately, he took the news in stride. My guess this is at least partially due to the fact that he recognizes the value of a good story, and I know for a fact that I will quite literally never live this one down.

Was there a bill extraction from that damn dog's poop later?...I don't want to talk about it. Let's just say my love for this man should never be questioned. Enough said. Funny side note: Bowie completely ignored four $1 dollar bills that were nicely folded, sitting on the top of his suitcase.

Shitty weather cometh...Why am I telling you this? Because it means more blogs from me. Silver lining, amiright? I'm sure this makes you all feel better and will make the 4 inches of snow predicted for the weekend here in Chicago seem less awful. Hardly, but hope you are all ready.

Get started on the Christmas shopping, folks, so the supply chain fairy doesn't lob a turd in your Holiday punchbowl.

More to come and Happy Thanksgiving!!

Barb

Missed any blogs? You can catch up with the past blogs with links below:

It's About DamnTime: Barb's First Blog

6 Tips for Working from Home

Celebrating Love Amid Dark Days

Derelict Driving and My 15 Minutes of Fame

Pandemic Family Craziness

Are We Living Through the Greatest Depression?

Why is Mother's Day a Day and Not a Week?

No-Speed Naveed and the Joys of Urban Transport

Shapewear and The Costs of Being Female

Online Dating in Your 50s