ABOUT MEN

By Mike Gordon
Advertiser Staff Writer

On the day we were married, Mrs G. and I held our reception in her parents' back yard. Like most wedding receptions, it was the stuff of memories.

A DJ filled the air with so much hip-shaking music that the neighbor kids got up on their roof and danced, my father-in-law threw his best friend in the swimming pool and the police were sent to close down the party. Twice.

Among the many gifts we received was a note from a friend, now twice-divorced, that said just this: "Fight fair."

This week will mark the 16th anniversary of that auspicious event. But before you applaud my longevity, you need to know that I have not always heeded my friend's advice. Those are tough words to live by.

Truth is, I can be a little stubborn.

Marriage, I discovered after my honeymoon, required more maintenance than I had expected, like when you buy a gorgeous sports car that needs a lot of TLC.

No one warned me about that. No one explained the rules to me. No one said you have to call home when you're going to be late.

All I ever heard was the part about marital bliss: An endless chain of lazy Sundays in bed, clean clothes and really good food. Or maybe that was the only part I was listening to.

Fighting, fair or otherwise, was never mentioned. So I found myself going with the only thing I knew: Holding my ground, even on simple, stupid issues. I wish I could remember some examples; I can't, but I do remember behaving badly.

Arguing. Saying mean things. Slamming the door. Driving off. Coming home and being stubborn. Calming down. Making up. Feeling stupid.

In the post-argument calm, I'd wonder if other couples fought like this. It wasn't something that came up in conversation when I was hanging out with the guys. Still isn't.

I knew I had to change, even if I didn't know how to accomplish that. In my effort to reform, I'd tell myself I'd call home when I was going to be late and maybe work out less. And no matter how tempting it would be to do otherwise, I'd bite my tongue instead of shooting another verbal salvo from the hip.

But fight fair? The thought never entered my mind, not even once.

Fighting is about winning, and men like to win, even when it costs us. Why would you fight fair?

For love, of course.

It's taken a few years and a couple of children to figure this out. I can see my own bad temper in one of my daughters and my stubborn streak in the other. When they fight, it's like watching myself on video.

I tell them they shouldn't fight, and when they don't listen, I yell it at them. I've told them, calmly, that they should argue less because they're all they have in this world.

I haven't told them how to fight, just that they shouldn't.

To mark our anniversary, we'll go to the same swanky restaurant we always go to, sit at the same ocean-view table I always reserve, and bring the little darlings.

I will order a beer. Mrs. G. will order a glass of wine. And the darlings will argue about something. Happens every year.

This year, I might write them a simple, two-word note. But I don't expect them to understand it for quite some time.

Reach Mike Gordon at mgordon@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8012.