Mrs Abahachi has gone to stay with her mother for the weekend. It's okay, it's all pre-arranged to visit family, check on health of elderly relatives and visit offspring at university en route, rather than any sort of dramatic storming out, but I can't deny that it's a bit of a relief this time. As I think I mentioned at some point, she's in the process of setting up in business for the first time, dealing with bank managers, local planning authorities, unhelpful delivery companies and the like, and is finding it all incredibly stressful. My function in all of this appears to be a convenient person to shout or cry at, with occasional writing of cheques.
But I didn't come here to moan about my wife. Much. On the contrary, a bit of reflection, a couple of beers and some of last year's sloe gin seem to be leading me to a re-run of the end of When Harry Met Sally, a film I had successfully avoided before marriage and can now count on seeing at least twice a year. I love the way she watches the same few films again and again but skips all the bits she doesn't like, even though it also drives me up the wall (yes, I do indeed find myself trying to defend Richard Curtis' artistic vision). I love the way that, whenever we drive into a town, she makes sure all the car doors are locked, just in case we're ambushed by a bunch of feral urban teenagers. I love the way that she somehow persuades all four cats that they want to sleep on my side of the bed every night.
Inspired by Darcey's Dad's post earlier, I've been thinking about what our playlist might look like; similar issues as regards only loosely compatible musical tastes. I have continuing problems on the IT front, so can't post any music at the moment...
Captain and Tenille Love Will Keep Us Together. And not just because gremlinthingummy would hate it... Her era rather than mine - yup, I'm a toyboy - and a truly glorious bit of throwaway pop.
kd lang Constant Craving. Nothing to do with the lyrics, just the only album I owned when we first got together that she could bear to listen to.
Suzanne Vega Undertow. And this was one of hers, a gem amidst the Barbara Dixon. To be honest I'm not sure she's listened to the words very closely.
The Rembrandts I'll Be There For You. We first met when Friends was just arriving in the UK, and, annoying though this undoubtedly became, I would still maintain that it's a good, cheery song with a nice sentiment. And it was on the first mix tape I produced for her - otherwise an unmitigated disaster...
La Belle Epoque Black Is Black. One of her favourites, and I'll happily go for this sort of classy disco.
Gloria Gaynor I Will Survive. My disco number, largely for some specific connotations relating to an amateur production of a version of Sophocles' Ajax. One of my finest hours, I think; I may relate the anecdote some time. Alas, poor Ajax. For I have lost all my vim...
Joe Jackson It's Different For Girls. Another one for her; the woman has some taste, I'll grant you.
Buzzcocks Ever Fallen In Love.... Actually I might not be allowed this one; for me it sums up everything about the way we got together, but it went down like a lead balloon on the mix tape. Though not quite as badly as Me and Mrs Jones.
Shania Twain That Don't Impress Me Much. Yes, it really should be one of the soppy ones like You're Still The One, but this is so much more fun, and has the added bonus of annoying my stepson in an entertaining manner. Don't get me wrong, we have a really good relationship (these days, anyway), but it is rather hilarious the way he takes this song utterly personally. Ditto No Scrubs.
Charles Mingus Celia. Because I am going to insist on having at least one jazz track, and the more I listen to this the more it seems like a brilliant portrait of a marriage and of marriage in general: ups, downs, fast bits, slow bits, harmonies and dischords...
Okay, if someone will buy me another drink I'll shut up now.
