Marital Discourse and The Time Continuum

Until the beginning of the 20th century, time was believed to be independent of motion, progressing at a fixed rate in all  reference frames, according to Wiki, which we all know we can’t trust for reliable references, but I have to admit sometimes I like wiki for a quiki  reference fixi.  And if that little bit of space-time physics isn’t enough, you can always try to make sense of this; Quantum formation has a beginning and end but by energetic space time [time quantum genes] create endless recrudescent quantum time [evolution] future quanta of continue times. 

I on the other hand, am starting to observe patterns and similarities in my daily Huff Post readings, conversations with friends and occasional bits of gossip about divorcing colleagues or neighbors.  I think we missed a very large correlation from physics when we were touting the concept that men were from Mars and women were from Venus a few years back (stick with Earth time for that reference).  We focused on language but we missed out on time and space and the relativity of the two.  We didn’t look close enough at fixed frames, motion and vernal equinoxes.  OK not really, I have no clue what that all means, maybe because I am from Venus, maybe not. 

I do know that women tend to be the great time keepers, date makers and schedulers of marriage and family events and activities from the mundane to the tedious to the occasional thrill, generally speaking.  There are exceptions, say, like Pluto. Wives that are also mothers keep track of growth and progress like no others.  Each day is spent in a seemingly endless array of tasks and jobs related to moving on to the next day.  Only to begin again and say the same things and do the same things to move towards the day after that when most in their care have forgotten, or need help, or didn’t realize they would be expected to complete those same tasks again.  Endless.  Day into day, year into year.  Each day as long as a year, or like Venus, longer.  Mars however, has a day as long as Earth’s day, give or take a few nano or not, seconds.  A year on Mars is almost twice as long as a year on Earth.  (We’ll get back to that later.) 

Put on your space suit take a sip of Tang and pay attention.  So, the mother/wife and the mother-ship that she is aiming toward the future knows all about time.  She plans it, she manages it, she sometimes succeeds at training it to function independent of motion.  She helps the child that has not yet mastered independence, puberty, and college placement tests, and the next child, and the one after that.  Everything centered around growth and movement in real time.  In the end, she will have attained a massive folio to be exchanged for time retrieval, or a great load of guilt to be dispensed at her leisure.  Her time.  She will be free and available.  Being the time-keeper, she can see this time on the horizon and she is eagerly awaiting it, but quietly under the surface.  She can’t rush or force time but she gleefully anticipates what is to come.  (Taking care of an over grown child that once doubled as a lover is not on her calendar for the next million years, taking on a lover is an option, but she more than likely wants the lover that has lived here all along to be on the same schedule.)

Suddenly, or so it may seem to her unsuspecting timeless partner, she no longer seems patient or has the time for his, let’s just call it nonsense, but it could be anything.  Time for his friends, time for his laundry, time for his excuses for not……. She no longer desires to manage or train or keep time for anyone.

What happened? When did the rules change? The Martians, I mean men, have always had the benefit of time.  They are from Mars and a year there is closer to two Earth years and approximately 3.5 years for each Venus year- no wonder we can’t see eye to eye.   We aren’t even functioning in the same time period or time zone. 

They’ll get to it.  Sure they heard you say such and such. But you have always said such and such and then you fell asleep exhausted from that year-long day of yours on Venus.   Or you stopped waiting and did it yourself.   Now what’s going on?  Is time like gravity?  The force and pull stronger with motion,  or  maybe without?  Those children certainly kept the little lady in motion.  And please, believe with all of my love-filled heart from Venus, I know those men are in motion too.  Only they are moving towards a different target or a different end point, or perhaps they are just moving slower around the same sunny center.  They have been for the most part, true to that end.  Women, however, reach a point in that familial orbit when they are suddenly ready to leap off of Venus and take back their worldly possessions, or at least re-stake their claim as women and launch that heavy satellite of motherhood far and away, or at least trade in the minivan.   The problem is, they have always functioned as the keeper of time.  They have set the rules.  They have set the tone to say things over and over again in hopes that the next day someone might actually clean their rooms, really, I mean it this time or be the one to arrange for the babysitter and make dinner reservations.  Now that there are no longer any babies to be sat, they want to go on a date with the man from Mars and find out just why they were so attracted to this otherwise alien creature.  But the men haven’t done that job since they bought tickets for the demolition derby, or the prom, or maybe to your favorite restaurant which was really his, but you smiled and glowed that Venetian golden glow (that was really just sulphuric acid found in abundance on Venus, by the way,  and not a glow at all). 

So women, hang in there if you can.  Set the clocks back or forward and try not to lose sight of what was once attractive. Gently tell your husband that you are running out of time to love him the way he might just need to start loving you.  But give him time to catch up.   And men: women don’t have the same time continuum as you.  They are leap years ahead of you.  According to my time-o-meter, and a few close friends, typically around the time the youngest child hits 12, give or take, start paying attention.   Time moves so quickly and the best is yet to come, with or without you.  That ship is sailing.  That ship has never stopped.   Try not to be on the boat that is sinking, because if you were paying attention, she planned ahead and has a life jacket and an exit plan and all the time in the world. 


I am enjoying my life-jacketed trip around Pluto.  The view is sublime, but I occasionally and fondly remember some good times between the mundane and tedious.