IT’S SO NICE TO HAVE A MAN AROUND THE HOUSE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Yo3v3h2g0Y sung by the fabulous Eartha Kitt
Since I moved into my new condo, I have been roaming around the house quite contentedly. But the other day, out of the blue, I started humming the old song It’s So Nice to Have a Man Around the House, written by Harold Spina and Jack Elliott. Yes, I am happy here in my new sunny surroundings, but it made me think of the sweet memories of cozying up to my late husband Peter, and I got truly weepy. The lyrics are not PC at all but the song evoked a memory of the love we shared and I ached to feel that way again. It is best to click on the link above and have Eartha Kitt croon it to you.
It’s so nice to have a man around the house
Oh, so nice to have a man around the house
Someone sweet who’s glad he found you
Who will put his arms around you
And his kisses just astound you, it’s so nice
Oh, a house is just a house without a man
He’s the necessary evil in your plan
Someone kind who knows you’ll treasure, any simple little pleasure
Like a full-length mink to cover last year’s blouse
It’s so nice to have a man around the house
It’s so nice to have a man around the house
Oh, so nice to have a man around the house
Just a guy in pipe and slippers
Who will share your breakfast kippers
And will help you zip your zippers, nice
Oh, a house is just a house without a man
He’s the necessary evil in your plan
Just a knight in shining armor who is something of a charmer
Even though he maybe someone else’s spouse
It’s so nice to have a man around the house
It’s so nice, so nice
So put no one else above him, when you love him, really love him
Though it’s two-to-one you’ll wind up with a louse
It’s so nice to have a man around the house
So nice, so nice
I am truly aware that I don’t need a man to be complete, although I must admit that the line about “he will help you zip your zippers” is one that is sorely needed on occasion. It is clear that I have found a life with friends and family, but when you have an amazingly loving relationship that lasts over 47 years, the ache never goes away. I find that I yearn for his touch, his tenderness, and his encircling arms to comfort me in the wee hours of the dark and long lonely nights. I believe that those of us who have experienced this kind of love, crave that intimacy again.
Those who have experienced an epic love set the bar much higher. It is not for lack of trying. Believe me, I am open to meeting new people. A friend recently set me up on Bumble. We picked some good pix, I wrote a semi-witty profile, I expressed my political views clearly, and hoped for the best. After a certain age, shall we say, the eligible pool thins, along with thinning hair lines! I quickly swiped left and was disappointed with the results. I finally decided to call one guy. My friend instructed me to press *67 so my number would come up blocked. Mike lived about an hour away which was definitely not geographically desirable. When I found out he had been divorced for 40 years, I replied that I had an urgent call on the line and hung up instantly.
I recently gave a talk to a group of widows. I was shocked to discover that most of them had boyfriends and they found them on the internet. I let it be known that I was available for dating and a few weeks later, I got an email from a woman who suggested I meet a new widower who was open to dating. We emailed each other and decided to meet for brunch. I learned he was Canadian, practiced medicine, and it would be his first date after the death of his wife a year ago. I got to brunch and we shook hands politely. I told him about my first blog about grief titled Demoted to Lunch and he said it was sad. I said, “no it’s funny. I can easily do lunch but I want to do dinner!” He, a bit too adamantly, insisted that it was depressing. Clearly this guy had a nonexistent sense of humor. The lunch was interminable as the door kept beckoning me to throw it open. Since he hailed from Canada, I talked about Canadians I had known. I quickly thought of Alex Trebek! “Who?” I said “the guy on Jeopardy.” He said “what?” OK this really was a mismatch!
We discussed our spouses and I told him when you have an epic love, it is harder to get through grief. He said he didn’t have an epic love. He then proceeded to boast about his three degrees in physics while his wife dropped out of college. He said they were intellectually incompatible but he assured me that they had a good time in the bedroom. TMI! I kept trying to get the conversation going again while grabbing at straws. Did he like food? I got a one-word answer “yes.” Did he like wine? Yes, again. What more could I conjure up to keep us talking through this interminable meal and allow me to make a clean getaway? That exit door was getting closer and closer!
As he was telling me what a fantastic doctor he was, I was thinking of a way I could avoid meeting him again. Maybe I could say I’m traveling for months on end? Or, I could tell him I was having dental surgery? But I need not have feared. I finally stood up and said, “I have to go.” He said “I’m sure you know we’re not a good match.” I stood up and shrieked, a bit too loudly “thank you! You are so perceptive. I applaud your honesty.” I breathed a long sigh of relief, shook his hand, thanked him for treating, and ran for the door.
I may not have a man around the house now, but I can hope that one day, I might find a love that will comfort me. Until then, I will bathe in the memories of Peter and that will be enough for now.
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