So this morning, I initiated a conversation with Michael on Bush’s proposed tax cuts and how our (lack of) marital status bears on our potential 2008 gains. Which is more or less equivalent to my striking up a chat about microwave spectroscopy, or throwing down my two bits on calculating quantities in quantum chromodynamics, in that I just Do Not. Know. Shit! about economics, or even necessarily personal finance, beyond, “Needs moneys for Huggies and vodka!” and “Wants pretty shiny thing!”
Because the part of my brain that might be devoted to even the most basic understanding of the stock market or the Fed’s short-term interest rate is instead occupied with Season One of “Yo Gabba Gabba,” JLo’s marital history, and the Old 97s catalog.
Not that Mike even notices the intellectual anomaly.
“Wait — about that other thing,” he responds. “Are you saying we’re not marrying out of… LOVE?”
(Cue unconcealed mirth.)