h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

My life has always seemed to have Dramatic Pauses.


Or strange coincidences and whathaveyous that usually only happen in novels.

I've never done normal, or conventional or even dull. I tried it for a short while whilst I was married, thirty years ago and frankly it was the worst and most least memorable time - or at least a time that I've mercifully blanked out of my memeory -I've had.

Which is why I seldom if ever mention I've been married. I was, though. For three years three months and a few days.

He wasn't a beater, nor a drinker; he was just an insensitive dopey 20 something year old who married another dopey twentysomething year old because That was What You Did.

And besides, I could get us a cheap mortgage, working in a Financial Institution as I was doing at the time. Even as dopey and insensitive as he was, he was always good at sums.

Fast forward over 25 years.

I had to drive No 1 son up to his nans today; he's staying with her for a week ( to him, as well; I've already had a text complaining about the pausity of supper)so he can commute more easilly to do his City and Guild practical exams.

And The Mother wanted to give me her birthday present; it turned out to be a lambswool pad that a person can sit on if they want to when driving. Wildly useful and as I remarked "Wow, that's an amazing thing to have" Something tells me I am getting old. Or at least, being perceived as becoming old, by certain sectors of the community, anyway. Or possibly they suspect I may have haemmoroids; I don't know.

Anyway, just as I was escaping - sorry - taking my leave, mum remembered I had received a card addressed to me, care of her address.

It was postmarked Manchester, which puzzled me a bit, because, fine, upstanding folk that they may be, I don't think I know anyone who lives in that particular city.

It was from my ex husband, wishing me a happy 50th birthday (close, but no cigar. I was 50 last year) with a nice little note wishing me well and asking me to get in touch if I received the card. And a mobile phone number.

In the words of the prophet, you could have knocked me down with a feather.

I neither like nor dislike the guy. In fact I think if I passed him in the street I probably wouldn't even recognise him. In my mind he's stayed at a flabby wispy blond 25 year old with a suspect goatee and the need to learn about aftershave, deodorant, and conversational skills.

(And to him I shall probably remain an aggressive, neurotic insecure 23 year old with multi coloured hair and a hareem of stray cats. I became a cat lady very early on in life to save time)

Why in gods name has he chosen to get in touch NOW of all times?

Because he (mistakenly) thought I'd hit 50?

Unless he's changed an awful lot, it's not terribly likely.

Because he's suddenly realised he loved me really and wants to re establish a conection?

(Fat chance matey, far as I'm concerned. One can never cross the same bit of water twice)

Or is it - as I suspect - something a bit more pragmatic, like Pension Rights?

He was always a career man, and always very good with money. By the time we had been married 3 years we were in a position to buy a house in Kingston upon Thames (which is/was very posh and pricey) without raising a financial sweat.... and the thought of having to share his pension with an ex missus must be gauling to him.


Its too good an opportunity to NOT get in touch, just to see how life has treated him. I don't bear him any ill will, as I've already stated.

But I wonder how far into the conversation it will be before Pension is raised?

He needn't be worried, anyway. Pride alone would prevent me from making a claim. Apparently I *am entitled to, but hell - if I couldn't be bothered to stay married to him, nor have a family with him, why on earth would I even consider parasiting on him in my older years, simply because we legally slept together for 3 years when we were too young and too stupid to know any better?

He's just a bit of past. I don't expect to be paid for sharing that, for heavens sake.

Goodness Ev, that must have been a shock though. Has he really not been in touch once in all those years?

Pension - possibly; ill health, needs a nurse - possibly. I take it your sons are not by him so he is not becoming (belatedly) all fatherly? Hasn't heard on the grapevine that you have, or are about to come in to some money? Possibly.

Cynical lot aren't we?

A friend of mine was contacted out of the blue by her first husband. She is married to her second currently. She met up with him briefly and found it a very upsetting experience, finding she still had feelings for him in spite of him being the last thing you would want in a husband. He died shortly afterwards though that was unconnected.

Just thought I would sound a note of caution, in case your curiosity gets the better of you. Having awakened our curiosity, please do keep us up to speed

Nice to hear from you again. I am still trying to organise my life and house in to some semblance of order, without much

Take care

Websailor

Hello Ev,

Nice to see you around

Blimey: that's a blast from the past, isn't it? Do let us know what happens. If all he's interested in is money, then presumably it won't be a relationship that is re-established in any way?

Fb

What Ho Webbie - how ya doing?

>>ill health, needs a nurse - possibly<<

H'mm - that'd be fun!
I could drag him along behind my electric Granny Mobile when I go to the supermarket

>>I take it your sons are not by him so he is not becoming (belatedly) all fatherly<< _

Correct! The lads were by a plastic Paddy, born in Surrey of Irish Parents who'd emigrated to GB. He hasn't seen his lads (his own choice) for well over ten years. The G8T.

>>Hasn't heard on the grapevine that you have, or are about to come in to some money? <<

That's a lovely idea, but about as unlikely - ie, that I'm coming into some money -as Santa Claus striking up an irregular liason with the Easter Bunny.

Cynical??

Who?

Us??

And no, apart from a "Good Luck" Note when he found out I'd emigrated to Eire shortly after I left him, I haven't heard a Boo from him. And the last time I really thought about him was the date of what would have been our 25th Wedding Anniversary, which (I believe) was 26th May 2004; although I probably am mistaken. I frequently am, and unlike him I was never good with figures.

I don;t think, even if I met him, there'd be any feelings of passion or regret. I left him in a fit of pique and panic because he had the audacity to criticise my driving, actually; I tried to reverse OVER him, he'd annoyed me so, but only sucseeded in driving over his big toe and breaking it. So I drove home, and was packing bin bags of clothes/stashing my LP collection into the boot, and drugging the cat to bring with me, since he'd tried to kill it by putting it into the spin drier, before he limped home from the garage.

I told him I was leaving him, so he said OK and checked the tyres before I left. I wasn't terribly impressed by that. He could have at least remonstrated a bit.

If I remember rightly, I filled up the tank and left him to pay for it, too.

I left him on the day of the Hyde Park Bombing; I know, because I drove THRU Hyde Park shortly after the bomb had exploded and I was stopped by the police, who wanted to search the car, and were rather flummoxed when they found a tranquilised cat stretched out, sleeping peacefully on the back seat.

We met up shortly afterwards, of course, to split up our belongings and discuss the sale of our house, but it was all very business like and dispassionate. And afterwards he said to me, that he, too had been unhappy with me, and was impressed with me (and grateful, too) that I had the neck to leave. He, he told me, would never have had the courage to do such a thing. I, on the other hand, would never have had the courage to pretend and bluff and become fiscally rich but dead inside. I couldn't face it. As it was, prior to me leaving him, I couldn't look at the woman in the mirror and respect who I saw, because I knew I didnt love him.

I wonder how many marriages have held together purely because neither party has been bolshy (or desparate) enough to want to change the stautus quo?

I'm curious, of course I am.

And if there's a chance of a meet up 'll grab it. I'm a nosey baggage, and I'm vain enough to know I've worn pretty well. And if he's taken after his dad, then he'll be fat, and bald and slightly pompous, so I can crow a bit.

(I may be larger than I was at 20 -odd, but at least I'm not going to be bald)

But I don't think he's going to unearth any "feelings" as such.

Naw.

Knowing my track record, I'd have them for the real bast**rds I've known - like the boys dad, and someone else I could mention.

Not that I'd let them know, of course.

Indifference is a dish served very cold. Why pander to ego, after all.

But Husband No 1? I'm curious and I'll wish him well; whatever happens. Even when I was with him, he wasn't worth losing sleep over.
30 years on, I doubt that much has altered, so don't worry.

Waves to Fb, as well!

Pigs may fly, but a re establishment of such an old relationship?

Unlikely. Highly unlikely.

But then, not impossible.

Like I said, my life does sometimes read like a novel, and in a novel, anything can happen.

Life seldom seems to have a Happy Ever After though, and I can cope with that, too


But I'll keep you posted.

Memoirs???

EC!
And... don't forget... you claimed your eternal undieing love to me and only me

Tried that!

After writing about my first ten years I got so disheartened and depressed I gave up! And the Word bit of the programme was virtually stuffing tablets down its throat in an attempt to escape, so it seemed kinder to stop.

I'll stick to pomes, I think. They take far less time to write and are far,FAR less complicated than trying to make sense of it all

And I don;t get bored by 'em, either

>>you claimed your eternal undieing love to me and only me<<

I did?

Are you sure?

I mean..... positivley certain?

I often say stuff under the influence of Mr Jack D, Leglet.


All the best people do.

If you remember

I may have hallucinated it... I seem to recall narcotics and* alcohol were involved to some extent or was it your.... or was it Roymondo who said... err who ws the person laying on the floor?

You drink too much 2 Legs That was another party you're thinking of, somewhere else.

Well. Mystery solved. It's nothing as pragmatic even as pension rights.

It was something rather sad, really.

He has no friends, no hobbies, just work, - he does something hush hush in an unpopular government department, and it can involve 70 hour weeks. And his wife and 2 daughters which he determinedly kept out of the conversation. Whne pressed, he said he *thought* the younger one had just turned 16. He wanted to make contact to see if I had kept in touch with any of our mutual friends, and to see how I'd done in life.

On his scale, I suppose I'd be bottom of the heap; no savings, no flash house, no fancy holidays and no keeping up with the Jones. No safe pension, and very seldom *new* new clothes

On mine, I reckon I came out of it far better; I have friends, I have good relationships with my sons, I have plenty of interests and I've been in situations that he'd have run a mile from because they weren't safe and conventional and therefore controllable and predictable. I've gone to the heights of fun and to the depths of despair and returned from it all the richer in learning and experience. I'm restricted only by my ailments (and of course, finances, but I can still pay the bills and keep us fed and watered) so I'm free to do what *I* choose, as I choose, and when I choose.

And even when I feel lonely - and there are times, of course I do,in all these years, it has never occured to me to contact him "to see how he was doing"

There's lonely. And there's appaulingly lonely.

And if that what putting career before people does to you, (or putting career before all else, because all else is so miserable and boring, that work is all you have)then I'm very glad I never had one that was recognised or fiscally rewarded by society.

Being a human who can laugh and think and who knows how to enjoy what I have with a great deal of zest is a life's work in itself.

And it pays far better rewards.

How sad is that, Ev? It was a good decision to leave him then?!

So many people aspire to a fulltime working life of 9-5: I've never really understood.

When I've decided enough's enough and sold up, taken off and found pastures new, there has always been a sizeable contingent saying how envious they are. If they were serious, they too would be grabbing life by the throat and heading off to find new experiences.

Life's for living, not for sitting around and thinking about There ain't enough time for feeling envious and not doing anything about it...

Fb

Good advice Frenchbean, I wish I had been given such sound advice when I was younger. I am not sure I would have taken it, as I didn't, and don't have your courage.

Ev, it sounds as if you were well out of it. Are you going to make further direct contact or leave things as they are? He sounds like a ship adrift and looking for a port. Has he been kicked out, or is he about to be do you think. He doesn't seem to know much about his two daughters.



Websailor

It's an awful lot to do with personality, Websailor. Two of my brothers simply don't have the personalities to do what I've done. In Mum's terms, they're not as foolhardy as I am

I do have a bit of a 'what the hell' attitude to life, but some folk really can't adopt that attitude. I am supremely irresponsible and a flighty woman in some people's opinion

Goodness are you going to take pity on the man, Ev?

About half way thru the conversation with him I began to feel my eyes glazing over - and I'd already bit my lip 2 or 3 times when he came out with some form of conventional inanity/pearl of wisdom, as it was.

So, no, *I'm* not making any further contact..he will, I expect. I've always been a good listener, but trust me, the minute we get onto the "My wife doesn't understand me" bit I shall lose patience and send him off with a large flea in his ear. I suspected he was philandering a bit when I was married to him - and in a way, he still does, doesn't he?

Yeah, I *do feel sorry for him, of course I do, (poor, boring little man) but not THAT sorry for him, I assure you!

And I'm not that desparate, either.

I don't think being supremely irrisponsible and flighty is such a bad thing to be, frankly; there's always a risk things can - and sometimes do go, for want of a better word go sup - but on the whole it offers a whole range of rewards that are...pretty good

Oh, trust me: I wouldn't have it any other way than flighty

Good luck when he makes contact again, Ev, although it sounds as though he'll need more than you

I guess it all becomes because of supreme irresponsibility, too

'Sgood, innit?