Not Knot?

After clarifying with anybody that I have a girlfriend, what usually follows isn't a trite shibboleth about how nice it is to have found somebody to scratch your back at 2am, but an insistent probing about such indelicate decisions about marriage. To which I have adopted a standard reply that arouses further questioning than it ought to, by proper design, but I've never been that great at following instructions. I lower my eyes to inspect my wing tips, and tell whomever that while I respect the institution of marriage, I probably wouldn't get married myself.

How is that any less than aquifer clear?

The thing is that I've long holstered this standardized response that I can no longer what originally inspired me to make the claim. Was I, at the nubile age of eighteen that well versed in the art of relationship building that I accepted as mantra this pledge to matrimonial avoidance? It's very possible I felt myself that sophisticated, as I failed an entry-level class to Zen Buddhism and plagiarized articles from Congressional Quarterly about the 'future of the Euro and European Monetary Policy.'
It's cold, it's dark too early to leave anybody with any desire but bickering and scathing self-analysis, and in honor of the season of melted cheese and hibernation, I'll offer a guided tour of the man-cave known as the place I frequently store my malt-liquor reserves. For the record: My parents are still married. My girlfriend's parents are still married. Media has taught me that marriages dissolve more than remain, so I've been extrinsically conditioned. A close friend of mine is getting married next July, and my two best friends are in long-term relationships about which they've hinted potential long-term vows.

I like tradition. One of the features about classical conservatism, which is a lifestyle and world more than the embarrassment of bigotry and intolerance fashioned into party-platform planks, is its immutable respect for traditional forms of life. The idea is that traditions keep and hold in highest esteem things like the Church or faith in general, the importance of the family for supporting societal health, and the importance of faith in individuality as inherent in the founding of our country and its true idea of independence. A good conservative won't be lured to the rocks with progressive's siren song that all change is positive, but cast a guarded, watchful eye to ensure that what most shapes the finest part of our country isn't abandoned too thoughtlessly.

Maybe it's because I've never attended the wedding of a truly loved-one, like my sister. I'm sure I'll feel differently watching her become so intertwined with her beloved, as opposed to the casual, buffet-table canvassing dispassion that's fevered me from so many gratuitous invites. I might barely know the groom, and wonder what he sees in his wife, but I've never been more aware of simmering shrimp beside an overpriced ice-sculpture of a pheasant. Then there's the cousin with the onion breath with whom you have to dance, before some clod drinks too much and injures his spleen diving for the garter belt.

To sum up, I don't know why I make the response I do, but I'm strongly considering revising it to more accurately reflect some hard-won points in the gender-bowl, sponsored by Tylenol and played out in long, grueling seasons on the Match.com gridiron. Both sides became really adept at punting.