It was one of those mornings.  You know, you’re wife wakes up in a mood and you have no idea what’s wrong.

You drank a little too much the night before so all you can do is go through your fuzzy memories of the night's events and the usual checklist.

Did I accidentally glance at some other chick at the bar? Did we argue about the bar tab? Did I open my friggin' mouth about her family…again? Did I interrupt her in mid-conversation to interject my ego driven opinion into her conversation that I absolutely know nothing about? Did I again try to have drunk sex even though I know that she hates it?

This time, the answers were all “no”. As far as I could tell I was the perfect partner who was attentive, funny, sexy and gracious. There was absolutely no way she could be mad at me this beautiful Saturday morning on which I had done absolutely nothing wrong the drunken night before.  I friggin' love this Saturday morning.

I will admit that there have been Saturday mornings in the past that I had to buy flowers, write formal apologies, put out in kinky positions, spend hundreds on spa packages and read "The Mists of Avaolon" to her while she was in the bath.

Now I’m not saying that I’m whipped by the punanni, but when you are in love with a woman the worse thing in the world is for her to be mad at you.  So, if that means you drag your hungover ass out of bed and read some really, really long novel to her, you do it. 

But this Saturday morning shouldn’t be one of those mornings because as far as I could tell I did nothing wrong.  This should be one of the standard Saturday mornings where I get to sit, I get to drink my coffee in a leisurely frame of mind, I get to watch something excellent on LOGO, BRAVO or HGTV. Yep, Saturday morning is ours to just bring in the weekend.

But today, this particular Saturday I awoke to no comfort, no sweetness, no HGTV.  I awoke to the demise of the economy, how we don’t save enough money, we’re too fat, we drink too much, we need more fiber in our diet, how we bring each other to the lowest common denominator.  Yes, I awoke to a melancholy angel. 

I knew my whole weekend was shot.  If my wife is melancholy it is only a matter of time before she slides into a terrible depression and self-loathing.

I knew that if I was gonna salvage this weekend then I had to act fast.  I had to outthink her mood swings.  This meant that I had to be brilliant and quick on my feet.  I mean, we’re talking about a woman who is a CEO of two different companies and solves more problems in one hour than I do most weeks. 

For whatever reason, when she is in a bad mood, she is even sharper, more determined and quick witted. So I needed to think hard and long.  I had to exhaust myself in the charm area to come up with the ultimate bad mood killer in order to salvage the weekend, have some sex and watch some home improvement.

I started with the obvious.  I cooked breakfast and brought it to her in bed. She said thanks and instructed me to clean up my mess that I made in her clean kitchen.

Then, I went to the store and bought some champagne and packed a brunch.  I ran her a bath and while she was in it I spread out a blanket and the brunch in the bedroom with the champagne, strawberries and cool whip. Normally this would have made her putty in my hands and hot between my sheets. But her mood had taken hold and I got yelled at for having strawberries on the white carpet.

Needless to say it was a long day and I was at my witts end so times called for desperate measures.  I went to the Internet and Googled.  Now, I don’t mind using Google when I’m looking for an unknown fact, a computer manufacturer or a paint stripper, but when it comes to my wife I prefer to rely on my own instinct and learned behaviors. But I was desperate and it worked.

It was a miracle.  The most beautiful, redhead, sometimes blonde, often times a blended color and cut, but regardless of the current hairstyle she remains to be one of the most prolific voice of our times, yes ladies and lesbos, Ms. Annie Lennox was appearing in concert that night in our town in an intimate setting and I knew I had to get my wife to that concert.  That was my in, Ms. Lennox was gonna fix this mood, Ms. Lennox was gonna save my weekend and hopefully, Ms. Lennox was gonna help get me laid.

It was a great surprise to her.  I took her to dinner, we had a few drinks and we took a walk downtown to the hall where the lovely Ms. Lennox was playing and her face lit up.  She was ecstatic, Annie was incredible and somewhere between, "Why" and "Sweet Dreams," I got my wife back.

Oh sure I paid a small fortune for scalped tickets to a sold out show.  I paid way too much for pre-show martini’s, I bought the overpriced t-shirt for memorabilia sakes, but it was worth every friggin' shiny penny.   God Bless Annie Lennox.
Live and love equally…gently, but equally.

Photo courtesy of Red Bull

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Photo courtesy of Rumble Boxing Gulch Nashville

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