I Married Spock

It hit me out the blue. In warp-speed you might say. Our life together is like an episode of the original Star Trek and my wife has taken all of the choice roles.

First and most obvious, she is Uhura. the understated, sexy, no nonsense communications expert with the hot legs whom I can always count on to help me craft my thoughts. She's also Captain Kirk to my Sulu. She sets the course, I drive the car to our destination. And I'm her Scotty. When she bites off more than we can chew, I shout at her that she needs to step it up! More Power! We're dangerously close to being late for the theater. Notice I have only the subservient parts? I'm ok with that. But there's a coveted role I auditioned for and have since conceded to her, Spock! Like the pointy eared Vulcan, she is maddeningly logical when I'm illogically mad.

When my assignment desk had me crisscrossing the Garden State last week, covering Bridge-Gate, I was texting bitter complaints to Mrs Spock.

Her response; "Interesting!" She had set my phaser to "stunned". I wrote back; "Interesting is not the adjective I would use! Stupid is more like it", I said about our marathon day, "This back and forth is taxing, baby!"

"I'm sure it is. Are you tired?" she responded. "I'm tired of being treated like a yoyo" I replied. Then came the Vulcan nerve pinch. I see her typing this with the matter of factness of Spock explaining quantum theory. She asked simply; "Does it happen that often?" What? What does it matter how often it happens? (I asked in my head!) What's most important is that I am a big baby and I'm crying for sympathy right now!

But of course she was right. It's not a frequent occurrence. Still, to her unemotional question of whether it happens often, I sarcastically replied, "No. I don't get hangnails that often either, but it still hurts!"

She didn't answer. But I can see her anyway. Looking at her cellphone. One eyebrow arched in bemusement.