RELATIONSHIPS: “Sky is Blue” Arguments? It’s Time to Get the F — Out
Improving your life is as much about what you DROP as what you gain
It’s hard to admit to yourself when it’s over.
And if the exit ramp rolls through a divorce, it’s more than just a pain in the ass to leave.
But when it’s really time, don’t waste any ripping off the band-aid. Believe me, there’s no getting back the time I spent on the Back 9 of my first marriage.
When you’re invested, nobody wants to be left thinking they didn’t give it their best. That and fear of change keeps many of us shackled to the ball & chain even while cradling the key.
The challenge of knowing when to hit the bricks is not recognizing the signs. They don’t always stand out in the fog of Days of Routine in convenient neon orange.
And there are probably 1001 cues that you’re stuck in Rutland, Population: 2 and should hop a bus the fuck outta there. But here’s at least one to be cognizant of: finding yourself repeatedly in what I call “Sky is Blue” arguments.
I don’t know what the hell makes someone a “relationship expert.” Kinda scoff at the idea anyone truly is.
This is pure experience talking. 51 years and badly bruised balls.
“Can you please tell the court just when you decided to become a moron?”
My ex-wife’s father is a genius. Dutch immigrant with advanced degrees in engineering responsible for literally hundreds of patents. Incredibly impressive resume. Chances are if you’ve successfully flown commercially on an American-based airline, he contributed something that kept your ass airborne.
Engage the man in debate on any topic about which he’s knowledgeable & passionate, and it’s likely you’re gonna end up leaving feeling like you just danced with the underside of a John Deere lawnmower.
In our early days — the courtin’ days, as Pepperidge Farm might say — it was a boon to my ego that my now ex-wife would compare me to him. Our passion, logic, and principles.
Then shit went south. Our marriage couldn’t have gone more off-the-rails if it were managed by Amtrak.
And suddenly that respect for my perspective on things — that same intellectual prism filtering & processing the world that once drew comparisons to Dear Ol’ Dad — evaporated like flatulence in a tempest.
That’s when I began to notice “Sky is Blue” arguments.
This is NOT me trying to publicly pin the responsibility for the demise of our marriage solely on my ex. Shit, no.
Two to tango, the whole fucking thing. Yeah.
BUT…
“Sky is Blue” arguments are a symptom. So be wary.
Let me attempt to illustrate this. Because “Sky is Blue” arguments may not be as easy to grasp as the name might suggest. It’s not just as simple as “one person says the sky is blue and the other claims that it’s plaid.” Or anything quite as overtly ridiculous and cut & dried.
No.
It’s when you’re innocently telling a story. Or maybe you’re making an intellectual argument. One that you honestly don’t see as being controversial. One you never expect your listeners to find fault with.
You’re laying out details. In the argument, you are stacking your logical premises.
Somewhere in there, you include what you think of as a generally accepted given. It’s not even the conclusion you’re building to. Just somewhere in the middle of your story/argument, you toss in a throwaway like, “because the sky is blue…” Or “the guy that cut me off was probably some rich asshole because he was driving a BMW.” Or “brick and mortar malls are just about dead.”
I’m assuming you probably agree with the essence of those statements. Even if you think the BMW one is unnecessarily hostile, most would probably let something like that slide in the middle of a story where the speaker almost got into a serious accident, say.
Then it comes.
Like Lawrence Taylor on Joe Theisman’s leg.
Because the sky isn’t always blue. You see?
Sometimes…
Sometimes… it’s overcast. It can be gray. And, it should be noted — nay, must be noted, as an adjunct to this wholly non-meteorological tale I’m spinning — that the sky can potentially be an array of oranges, reds, and golds during the sunset.
Right?
When an intellectual lightweight like me tosses out a generalization like “the sky is blue”, it’s incumbent upon my opposite number in this ongoing Ode to Dysfunction to set the record straight. Lest anyone take leave of the telling and be burdened by the misconception that skies are immutably azure.
Same with the anecdotal addendum that some BMW drivers — some known to persons IN THIS VERY ROOM — may have acquired their Bavarian auto-machine second hand. Not spent a small fortune at purchase. And may therefore NOT be people of means.
Finally, let it be entered into evidence, Your Honor, that a new mall was opened somewhere on God’s good green Earth within recent history. Thus the news of the IRL shopping center’s demise must be called into question. And could very well be premature.
At least this information is worth aggressive debate within the context of these proceedings.
My point as a raconteur being to entertain a group of potheads with my misadventures trying to find an open tax office where I could renew my registration on my lunch break be damned! It’s in nitpicking these largely uncontroversial details with obscure challenges wherein we arrive at transcendent truth!
(Sigh)
And off you go.
You had no idea you were about to be in an argument. It just showed up like Cousin Eddie in a shitty direct-to-video VACATION sequel.
Somehow, I doubt you were innocent in all this.
I’ve already pleaded guilty to my role in poisoning the marriage. We both knew our communication was toxic.
See, that’s what happens when you get a fuckin’ divorce. Barring straight-up criminal violence or fraud, everyone ends up looking like a steaming pile.
It gets to the point of…
“Hey, could ya pass the salt?”
“What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?!”
And secretly both parties imagine the other needs the salt so they can better eat shit and die.
Totally unfair. I genuinely wish my ex her best life. When you can’t say that and mean it, you’re ingesting poison. You have to purge that if you’re ever going to be a viable partner for the right person.
Hopefully, you find that person.
And agree with them on what the color the damned sky is.
Thanks for letting me bend yer ear.
Get More Guamanian Winter!
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