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2001-06-24 | 12:59 a.m.

Duff's been getting into his games pretty deeply again (today he played Yahoo Towers for more than four hours steady; he stayed up so late at it last night that he was in a bad mood all morning). And it's been hot lately so I haven't been in the mood to cook. To be honest I'm not much for cooking anytime. I don't mind cooking so much, though I lack the organization to make it run smoothly. It's the cleaning up afterward I hate. Oh, I know, I ought to get Duff and the kids to do it. But that seems to be one of those flying-donkey propositions. I'm working on the kids, but with Duff, it is a real sore spot. Here is a man who thinks of himself as liberated and forward-thinking, but who can hardly be coaxed, shamed, or badgered into putting food away after dinner, much less sudsing up a dish. He gets mad at me for not doing what he thinks I ought to be doing, and I get mad at him for the same reason, and there we are, two mad people. And if I hear one more woman tell me about how her husband/boyfriend/partner is a gourmet chef who loves to cook and cleans up after, I think I will choke on my own vomit.

But since I discovered the five-hour "Country Gold Saturday Night" syndicated program on the radio, I've been cooking elaborate (for me, at least) five-course meals on Saturday nights. I've got a boom box plugged in on the kitchen counter, next to the dish drainer, and the antenna is pretty unstable, so I prop it up carefully because I'm afraid I'll electrocute myself if it drops into the dishwater. I don't actually know if it's possible to electrocute yourself with a radio antenna by, say, turning up the volume, but I don't have a foolproof way to find out (besides trying to electrocute myself). Anyway, I can tell I'm verifiably old now, because I can sing by heart every golden oldie they play on that show. And I do sing and croon and howl, badly, even with the windows wide open. Duff taps at the computer in the next room over, I sing in the kitchen (and in the rooms the children come and go, talking of trifles and---you know).

To be fair I should mention that Duff did put away some of the food after dinner tonight. Clap, clap.

I would like to have my own radio show someday. It's on my list of things to do before I die. Even if it were just for one night. I could probably pull off an Internet radio show, if I would just put the time into figuring out how it's done. If I ever do it, I'll be sure to let you know.

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