Do you know about this controversial Forbes article: “Don’t Marry Career Women” written by journalist Michael Noer?

Women are all up in arms about it, but to me, it’s complete nonsense. Isn’t it obvious to most men? — the more money your wife makes, the better!

It’s simple. If she’s bringing in the big bucks, the less she is on your back about sitting at home in your underwear (or her underwear) and blogging! Let her work all day and make tons of money.

Of course, some men say they feel uncomfortable with a woman who is more “intelligent” or “high-powered” than they are. My response is, “What are you, a pussy? Marry the smartest woman you can! Beauty fades, but you always need someone to edit you blog posts.”

“Oh, sure,” I hear some men grumbling. “And what about the statistics that show high-powered career women are more likely to have affairs at work?”

I say, “Terrific!” More time for blogging at home. Who wants to put on fancy clothes and go out to some overpriced restaurant when some poor sucker in her office can do it for you? I’ll be catching up on All My Children. As long as I get to play with her tits every once in a while in between writing blog posts, I’m a happy man.

“But aren’t you afraid of your wife leaving you for her new lover?”

“Yeah, let’s see HIM stand around the Nordstrom women’s department for an hour holding her purse while she tries on a Tahari Pinstripe Skirt Suit. She’ll be back.”

Let’s praise the career woman!

A Year Ago On Citizen of the Month: Granny, Won’t You Drive My Car?

Whenever friends come to visit me in Los Angeles for the first time, they always want to see Hollywood’s Walk of Fame.  In all honesty, this collection of Hollywood “stars” is completely cheesy, but I guess stepping on Humphrey Bogart’s “star” is about as close as most of us are ever going to get to shaking his actual hand.  After all, we go to cemeteries and interact with the tombstones as if they were the actual person, so why not relate to a piece of the sidewalk on Hollywood Boulevard?

One can laugh at the corniness of the Walk of Fame, but the concept has been imitated countless times over.  In my travels, I’ve seen a Cowboy Walk of Fame, an Astronaut Walk of Fame, a Yiddish Theater Actors Walk of Fame, a Surfer’s Walk of Fame, and even a Physicist’s Walk of Fame at Caltech.  I will not be surprised if someone already has the url: bloggerswalkoffame.com

I’ve seen this “walkway” idea morph into other concepts that move away from the “fame” idea.  Before I moved back into Los Angeles, I lived a few miles south in the beach community of Redondo Beach, where Sophia still lives.  The next town over is Hermosa Beach.   

In 2000, the town created a “Millennium Walkway” at a local park.  Local residents could purchase bricks to be etched with their names.  But unlike the theme being famed Hollywood actors or astronauts, the theme was a simple one —  ”Love.”   Each brick would bear the name of a loving couple, mostly those who were happily married.

It was a beautiful, romantic idea. 

It was also incredibly stupid.  

Because a stone symbolizing a couple’s love “forever” is more of a crap shoot than a Hollywood star immortalizing Judd Nelson’s acting career.  What could be more fleeting, more ephemeral –  than love?

Six years after the Millennium, several of the marriages celebrated “forever” have already gone kaput.    In fact, three divorced couples are in a battle now with the city of Hermosa Beach to rip out their names.   Two of the requests have come from new wives of two men whose names remain etched in brick with those of their ex-wives.

Hermosa Beach Community Resources Director Lisa Lynn reluctantly acknowledged receiving the requests by telephone.

“One wife was going for a romantic stroll with her new husband and low and behold, she saw his ex-wife’s named etched in brick,” Lynn said. The one ex-husband who contacted the city said his new love would not marry him as long as his ex-wife’s brick haunts her millennial footsteps.

Lynn responded to the requests by saying the city has no plans to remove any of the walkway’s 738 bricks, she said.

Do I hear lawsuit?

I always hear of lovers who get a tattoo of their beau’s name. Does it ever come off?  Or are you forever scarred with a remembrance of that relationship gone bad?

On the day that Sophia and I moved into our place in Redondo Beach, the City was doing some work repaving the sidewalk right outside our garage.   After they left, we took a tree branch and engraved our initials into the cement.  It is still there.  I look at it every time I visit.  But rather than it being a negative memory, it reminds me why I keep coming back.

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  The Fourteen Millionth Most Popular Blog

(Sue Me by Frank Loesser — Guys and Dolls)

Call a lawyer and sue me,
Sue me
What can you do me,
I love you.
Give a holler and hate me
Hate me
Go ahead, hate me!
I LOVE YOU

The best years of my life, I was a fool to give you you

Alright, already, I’m just a no-goodnick!
Alright, already, it’s true.
So new.
So sue me, sue me
What can you do me?
I love you.

Every few weeks, Sophia or I bring up "divorce." 

"Isn’t it time already to do it?" one of us will ask.

We both are procrastinators, making things worse.   We still haven’t handed in last year’s taxes.   Or maybe it’s love?  Do we still love each other so much that we forget all the fights we had during our marriage?  Where am I going to find a woman who’s as beautiful, smart, and funny as Sophia?  A woman who is so way over my head?   A woman whose biggest fault is that she votes Republican?   I know for many of you, that alone is grounds for divorce.

Divorce seems so final, so drastic.

After the coolest wedding ceremony imaginable (we had a swing band, a klezmer band, and a belly dancer), we went on our honeymoon to Spain.  That’s where our troubles began.   My trip was that of a sightseer — Madrid, Cordoba, Grenada, Toledo.  Sophia was already a world traveller.  She liked to sit at cafes and drink coffee. 

Me:  The Prado opens at nine.  I really want to see the Goyas.

Sophia:  Relax.  Enjoy your coffee.  We’ll get there.  (to waiter bringing pastries)  Gracias, Senor. 

We were married a week and we were already seeing that we weren’t exactly compatible.

Our hotel in Madrid was pretty bad.  I asked for a "matrimonial" bed.  We got two single beds, each bolted to the floor.  We looked over Plaza de Mayor.   We didn’t realize that the Spanish don’t even start partying in the streets until 2AM. 

But we made it through seven years, even though I was less than the ideal husband.  

Today, Sophia asked me to to deliver some translation paperwork to the main court downtown for her job.  

Me:  Is that where you get divorce papers? 

Sophia:  I don’t know.

Me:  Should I get them? 

Sophia:  I don’t know.

Me:  I’ll look on Google if that’s where you get them.

Sophia:  Fine.  If that’s what you want.

Sophia has gone on a couple of dates.   I haven’t dated in years.   Is this what I really want?  Do I really want to be a loser like the rest of you, going on all these crappy online dates?

I have to admit, meeting a new woman sounds very exciting to me.  Can my readers please stop complaining about your miserable dating lives?   You’re making it difficult for me to make any decisions. 

Isn’t it fun meeting all types of new people?

I watched this new reality show "Hooking Up" last week for educational purposes — so I’ll learn modern dating techniques.  The one thing that really stuck out for me is that when each couple met for the first time, they kissed each other on the cheek.   All the couples kissed when they first met.

I never kiss a woman when I first meet her.   I always shake her hand.   Is this going to spell trouble for me?  Will the woman think I’m a cold fish?  Will the woman dismiss me immediately, thinking I’m probably bad in bed?

Sophia already knows I’m bad in bed — and still kept me around for several years.  Do I really want to get a divorce and start this all over again?