Sirius Arguments

My marriage has dodged a major bullet. See, our trial subscription to Sirius Satellite Radio just expired, and I couldn't be more pleased. Don't get me wrong - I totally loved having hundreds of stations, knowing that my every musical whim could be satisfied at the touch of a button, being able to rock out to music that youngsters have been rocking out to for the past eighty years or so. But, all the shoobie doos and sha la las, all the twanging and head banging, and even all the cheesy love songs in the world is just not worth my marriage.

You see, my husband and I are sort of a classic case of opposites that attracted. I am the positive to his negative, the yin to his yang, the Yoko to his John Lennon. So far our marriage has survived his love of baseball (and my apathy to it), my political drive and involvement (and his apathy to that), and even the struggles in our earliest years between a dog person and a cat person. (I'm gald to say he's now a fervent convert, and we have four indoor cats.) Having worked those things out, I really thought our marriage could survive anything. Then, along came a free three-month trial to Sirius Satellite Radio that came with my new car. It almost broke us.

Mark is an 80's guy. He loves the funky rhythms, the hair bands, the insistent guitar riffs, and even the fashions associated. I, on the other hand, am a honkey tonk and bluegrass girl. He may have played blocks to the sounds of Madonna and Duran Duran, but I drifted off to sleep to Ronnie Milsap and Crystal Gayle. When Merle Haggard sang I'm Proud to Be an Okie From Muskogee he was literally singing my song. That's me - born in Muskogee General Hospital in Muskogee, Oklahoma. It's more than a birthplace - it's a heritage.
Little did I know that even though Opposites Attract (Paula Abdul, 1989), our musical differences were threatening to cause a D-I-V-O-R-C-E (Tammy Wynette, 1968).

Car trips, of course, were the hardest. We have a rule that whoever drives gets to pick the station. These past few months we've been arguing over who gets to drive rather than who has to. Even quick stops at a gas station were opportunities for the listener/passenger to pull a quick switcheroo. Upon arriving back to the car from the pump or restroom, someone was bound to be motioned from the driver's side to the passenger's side and a conversation something like this would ensue:

Delighted New Driver: Gee, honey, I thought you looked tired and might like it if I took a turn at the wheel... for your sake, of course. [big grin]
Disgruntled New Passenger: [indistinct grumbles] Alright, but I'm warning you - one of the girls is probably going to need to stop in about 30  miles for a potty break, you know!

Our record was fourteen stops in 100 miles. Our children were confused, but happy, since each game of  'musical drivers' generally resulted in the purchase of some type of snack or beverage. I gained 3 pounds, but got to listen to all the fiddles, banjos, and steel guitars that I could ever want. Mark, likewise, drank four Dr. Peppers and rocked out to no less than seven Cyndi Lauper songs, and a late Eagles hit that even I enjoyed. Thankfully, however, those days have come to an end. The subscription price to continue getting satelite radio coverage may only be $12.95 a month, but I hear that divorce lawyers are pretty pricey. Even if it never came to that, I don't think we can continue to afford the snacks. There's only one thing left to do - go back to disagreeing on talk radio. At least it's free!