In trouble again

Well, as always I have somehow managed to alienate myself from another woman, not just any woman, but Sandy Kay, my trusty wife of thirty some years and the Queen of Helm Street and holder of my future happiness . I , in a weaker moment undiplomatically opined that you could place three women in a room with a steel railroad rail and they would somehow destroy it in a matter of hours, and without the help of tools. Well predictably enough this had somewhat of a chilling effect on the last couple of days , and the next couple of months if past transgressions are any indication of what the future holds. Any intelligent man would learn from the past , yet no person has accused me of any brains for the past decade.I have gotten in trouble as I tried to explain that vacuum cleaner bags need to be changed when full, and that dragging them at warp speed through the house by the hose and then running the cannister into the woodwork and doors is not beneficial to the house. Sometimes when I'm downstairs and the vacuum is running upstairs I keep my hand on the phone for 911 because I've heard genuine barroom brawls with less noise and banging around!When the noise dies down I will usually go up the steps to see if there's anything left, and the old Hoover will be lying on its back like a dead dog , and Sandy will say its not picking up like it used to. I seemed to have solved the vacuum dilemma by trying to tutor her in the fine art of the machine. She implied that if I knew so much that I could vacuum myself. Well that took care of that with a side benefit as I'm going to need something to do for the next couple of months anyhow.A second issue that we cannot meet in the middle on is the differing attitude toward cars. Sandy Kay drives into our driveway and little old garage at just about the speed of an F-14 Tom Cat as it lands on the carrier deck of the Kennedy.It is somewhat of a comical picture as this pretty, classy lady touches down with a roar and screeching of brakes, The Phantom Of the Opera blaring out on her cd player. I bet if old Michael Crawford knew how fast he had landed in the garage that he would have a new found falsetto in his voice. Speaking of the Cd player in her car, now that's interesting.Anytime I drive the Queen's car I always look to see the state of her radio controls. I have tried for 30 years to explain the concept of "balance" and Fader controls. She will always have Barry Manilow coming out of only one speaker up front, nothing in the back. "His name was Rico- He wore a diamond"comes out of the left side with a vengeance!She's also from the planet Krypton when it comes to hearing. She always aks me "What is that noise?". I honestly have to say"What Noise?" Inevitably it will be the brake wear- indicator on the front discs , or the beep of a weak battery on the alarm system in the house.I just can't hear high pitched noises anymore. I think my ears left me about 1970 when Steppenwulf came along, but it could honestly be the sonic booms of the hoover as it plays like a pinata with the wood work upstairs. A final difference is our attitudes towards pumping gas at the self serve stations. One cold winter day I was pumping the stuff when Sandy reached over and shut the engine off. I asked why and she pointed to the sign telling you not to run the engine, talk on the cell phone , or possibly even think because of immanent explosions.Everyone knows the sign the one right below the Bullet-headed State Trooper's Picture who officially warns you that if you you fail to pay for gasoline you will lose your license. Now everyone knows that you can't control drunken drivers in Kentucky, much less the criminal that drives off with $5 worth of gas! This all makes me want to Fillup with the motor running full blast while talking on my cell phone , and smoking a forbidden cigarette. I will only attempt this act of bravado if Sandy is not present. Has there been a rash of Service Stations blowing up because of careless men? I hadn't heard of it, but I haven't been tempted to drive off without paying because of Mr. Bullet Head Trooper. Who can forget"I fought the law and the law won" by the Bobby Fuller Four. As a final act of contrition I must admit that while I firmly believe the circumstances as true, ther is always Sandy's side of the story which does carry a great deal of weight. Other men have commiserated with me with similar stories, yet they will remain nameless. Just because I have destroyed my life does not mean they deserve the same hellish fate. On one of my past jobs there was a female Branch manager who was extremely hard to please. I made my usual overtures of helpfulness, but made the mistake of saying that I just couldn't seem to get along with women. She immediately jumped me with,"Well just stand back and look at yourself and ask'Why can't I get along with women?!'"It's taken me several years and counselling sessions with the boys at Danny Coffman's garage to work my way through the trauma. I can't find anyone that will measure up to Sandy , but I find her giving me long questioning looks when she thinks I'm not looking.I think she's hearing old Michael sing about the Phantom.