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AN EMBARRASSING ADMISSION:

Politicians seem to be as vain as Beauty Queens, and with far less reason. When I decided to launch the Insurgency, I swore off the cheesy, 20 year out of date, faux flattering photos used by the Hacks seeking office in Modern Times. You would scarcely recognize these creatures from their campaign literature if you were squeezed into an elevator next to them. Imagine my mortification when it came time to send out a press release, and all I had was a photo of me from a previous incarnation! I abjectly apologize, but he is a handsome devil, isn't he? And only 15 years out of date. In my defense, please note that my tailoring remains impeccable — time erodes, but taste and character endure.

And by the way, that photo was taken at my wedding, which leads me to:

JOHN FRARY AND “THE WOMEN”

It takes no powers of prophecy to foresee that a pro-life stand will be damned and derided as an attitude of hostility to all womankind. It is one of the political conventions of our time. It’s true that I am as hostile to the ultra-feminists as my mild and kindly disposition allows, but that is not the same thing at all. That, in fact, is plainly contradictory since the doctrinaire femannoyances deny the very existence of all gender differences as mere social conventions. By this bizarre doctrine hostility to womankind or, more properly, mammalkind would be hostility toward myself.

In truth, I favor the right to life for both males and females without distinction. I should add that my mother, grandmother, aunts, sisters and wives were all female and I have enjoyed cordial relations with them all—although my grandmother thought me a little odd. I’ve had two wives altogether (not all at once), although looking back it seems like more. Number 1, the Good Ex-Wife, left me for a Norwegian doctor in the University of Medicine and Dentistry. The second, Shiva the Destroyer, organized a gala wedding which cost me forty-five thousand dollars and immediately decided she didn’t want to be a married woman. Never actually moved in with me. I should mention in this connection one of the reasons I find myself so happy to back in Maine. Whenever I told this story in NJ it was received with indignation and there commendation that I sue the woman. When I tell the story in the Farmington Elks Lodge my listeners laugh heartily and buy me a beer.

I wish to clear up any understanding. The Good Ex-Wife was and is a honorable and upright woman. No one ought to be blamed for falling in love. It’s a form of mental disorder. It sufferers cannot be blamed for their actions. Her affair didn’t work out and I ended up having to listen to the woes of both parties. The doctor, unable to abandon his wife and children and tormented with guilt, called to ask what he could do to make it right. I told him to buy her a car. It didn’t really make her feel better, but it made him feel better and she needed a new car. Fast forward 28 years to when I sold my house in New Brunswick. The Good Ex-Wife invited me to move in with her for the remaining year of my employment. Being a forgiving man, I consented. She gave me her room and slept on an air bed in the living room. She’d take no payment and the only compensation she’d accept was Friday night dinners and the right to choose my clothes. This is why I now own 65 shirts and 80 neckties.

I know this is all very puzzling, but don’t expect an explanation from me. I don’t understand any of it.

Personally, I think I come out of this rather well. Not only was I a model cuckold, but I offered to share the housework equally. As a bachelor I changed my bed clothes regularly every month. As I married man I offered to change them six times a year and raised no objections if she wished to change them once a week. Women have their own ways of doing things and men should be prepared to adapt.

Divorce imposed no burdens on me. The Good Ex-Wife insisted that I take any furniture I required and it turned out that her first husband had gotten an illegal divorce in Alabama, so we were never legally married.

As for Shiva the Destroyer, the last time I set eyes on her was six months after the honeymoon, when she drove up, passed the documents for joint income tax filing through the window of her car and drove off. I let the matter rest for two years, then got a no-fault divorce at minimal cost. I’ll give her this. She organized a terrific wedding. Kirkpatrick Chapel on the Rutgers Campus, my brother the officiating priest, Prof. Drinkwater at the organ, reception at the Princeton Sporting Club, an 18-piece orchestra, etc. I even had to take lessons to dance at the wedding. The whole thing was a pleasure to watch. Not such a joy to pay for.

It’s customary in these degenerative times for candidates to spill their guts over personal matters. I paid my dues to this custom. Expect no more.

Marriage is a valuable discipline. I recommend it to everyone.

¤ Home ¤ Congress ¤ Forum & Emporium ¤ Why Am I Running? ¤ Peak Oil ¤ But SerIously, Folks... ¤ Frary's Women ¤
¤ Frary Family Saga ¤ Issues and Bunk¤ Dumb & Dumberer ¤ Dollars to Doughnuts ¤ Libertarian Impulse ¤
¤ War and Fleece ¤ Mike Michaud Fan Page ¤ Two Faces of Sleaze ¤ HELP WANTED ¤