An Attempt to Impress: Episode IV - the Final Countdown

There are quite a few songs that when the first notes are played, you immediately know what the song is, especially if you have them on shuffle on your iPod.  It wasn't that long ago that we were rewinding cassette tapes with our fingers, or fast forwarding to just the spot, stopping and starting so you can sing the first few notes of the song.

Here are a few that I can think of that you know within the first few seconds (admittedly, I know very little about any music that has been produced in the last fifteen years - my musical snobbery turns up a nose at digital manipulation and gaggingly simplistic lyrics; sorry about this)

1.  Stand By Me.  (I know, you've already got the bass and the triangle in your head)
2.  Ice, Ice Baby - alternatively, and a much better song Pressure.
3.  We Will Rock You
4.  Sweet Dreams
5.  Smells Like Teen Spirit
and 6, of course:

The Final Countdown.   Duh duh duh, duh; da da dat dat duh,...  Need I keep going?

I looked on a webpage called '23 One Hit Wonders You Can't Get Out of your Head.  I need help.

Point number four of Five Ways to Actively Impress Your Spouse are:  (drum roll and final countdown - duh duh duh, duh)

4.  Pay Attention

This sounds so easy, and it probably is for one guy on the planet - to just pay attention to the things that your spouse likes, and even more so, what she doesn't like.  But let's face it, as I ponder the gifts that God has given me and my ability to open them and use them, paying attention to detail ranks right up there with being able to style my daughters' hair.  Oh, I can do it, but it's very, very hard for me and it doesn't always turn out well.

Paying attention is the one thing in life that really doesn't cost anything.  You want a car - pay money; you want your lawn mowed, get your child to do it and pretend that seven dollars and twenty-five cents per hour is the going wage in some countries.  But attention, you don't give up anything except a little time and brainspace. 

My excuse is that I have low visual acuity - i.e. I just don't see stuff very well.  Usually, I blame it on the fact that I was in the incubator during my first week of life and it must have 'seared' my eyeballs so I don't see stuff.  I know that's not really true, but it sounds impressive.  Kind of like the fact that my head looks like a shark fin because when I was born, I didn't have a soft spot (in my skull).  The doctors had to take two strips of bone from the crown so that the bones would grow together naturally, but in doing so, I've got a low, jagged mountain range for a scalp.  Sometimes I tell people, when they look at my head for too long, that I was a conjoined twin with my brother.  I even tell them we shared a brain, had to separate us, you know.  I love it when they look concerned and say, "Oh really?  I didn't know they could do that."

So I don't see stuff well, but yesterday I patted myself on the back for something I hadn't noticed before.  I was opening the freezer door to grab some kind of frozen treat, when I looked at the door itself and it has a chart of how long foods can stay in the freezer.  I'm sure that most of you know that it's there, but my eyes were drawn to the chart and I was fascinated to see (for the first time even though I've been opening that door for five years) that there were pictures of corpses of chickens (which can keep for 0-12 months) a very dead looking fish (under three months is best) some nice steaks which can last a little longer...

But then, right smack dab in the middle of the chart is a very happy looking Easter Bunny-ish rabbit, all smiley and happy, big fluffy ears which seems delighted that it's meat can stay frozen for roughly half a year.  Australia, what a country!  Where you can shoot the Easter Bunny and then enjoy his gamey big legs in a yummy hasenpfeffer at Christmas time!

So now I consider myself a pretty observant and attentive person - all because of a freezer chart.

I am able to pay attention to Christine and I've learned to be much better over the years.  I already know the non-verbal cues that seem to speak many more words than the ones that are issuing from her lungs.  For instance, if she asks me a question like, "Do you think we should book the car in for a service next week?" and she has a hand on her hip and calendar in her hand, what question she's really asking is, "Can you give me an approximate day when you'll be booking the car in for a service and when I can put that date in my calendar?"  When it's nine thirty at night and the washing machine has just made its happy little beeping noises telling us its ready to regurgitate the clothes we put in there an hour and fourteen minutes earlier, and both of us are already snug in bed and reading our books, I know that deep sigh, long and slow, and the exasperated moan of tossing back the bed sheet - that means, "It's time for you to get out of bed and hang up the laundry."  See how good at this I am?

I also know that she is incredible at so many different things and her ability to pay attention to multiple different things at once, the finances, the children, the school, the price of gas, how many moons Saturn has, and carry on a conversation about all of them at once in consecutive sentences is mind-boggling.  I don't know how she can juggle all these things in her head and keep them active.  The icons on her brain screen must be lit up all the time and her home screen must be littered with notes and saved items.  Mine has probably four things: food, kids, work, where is my hat?

But what I've noticed lately is that I'm paying attention much more to the kind of time we have together.  I know that she doesn't want 'things' for her birthday, and for me to get her jewelry, or perfume, or (God forbid) clothes, would be akin to the average Joe buying a blender for a Silver Anniversary.

Because I have come to know that Christine loves words and music, I write things to, and songs for, her.  They are permanent.  My attentiveness has led to some great times of talking and her responsiveness, leads me to want to continue.  As we sat under the stars by the fire on that night at Ravensbourne, it continued to be ever more apparent that my spouse is not motivated by stuff but by attention and interaction.  I recognize that she would rather walk hand in hand along side a snake/leech/spider infested road than receive a fancily wrapped box of perfume.  That's just us - not every woman is like that, put I'm always learning to spend my attention on her.

I think all spouses can pay more attention to the little things that make us tick, not just the big ticket items, the cruises, the destinations, the cars and all that goes with financial stability (or instability).  If we could just think for a few minutes about the things that we miss with our eyes and focus on what the other person needs and wants, my how life would change.