Messy Fish Was a Big Help

Sometimes a simple story can prove to be a help throughout a lifetime.
Once I was blessed with one quite by accident.

For years I used to play audio tapes in the car on the way to and from school. These were usually church talks and scriptures which made the commute more productive and traffic jams better than just a waste of time.

I remember particularly a church tape made by Brother John Bytheway, a talented and very popular youth speaker.
At least I'm pretty sure that it was Brother Bytheway. I know that I've listened to many of his wonderful talks.
However, with my now sieve-like memory it's hard to be sure of much anymore. It could have been another talented and popular church speaker I suppose.
All I know for certain is that the helpful idea wasn't mine.

In any case, I thank Brother Bytheway, or whomever, for this one thought that's been such a comfort and a caution over the years.
It's prodded me to have patience in my marriage and indeed in all dealings with the opposite sex.
It's the "messy fish" concept.
Here's the main idea as I recall it. With lots of added embellishment probably.
I can't remember.

Suppose that a young woman was having some friends over for a small dinner party.
Included among the guests was her "one true love" with whom she had fond hopes of an eternal relationship. Also invited was her BFF girlfriend and her date for the evening.
This young woman had prepared her most delicious dinner which included a baked fish dish that was "to die for" as they say. She was hoping to show off her domestic skills.
Everything was going well. The table looked beautiful.
She called her guests to sit in the candlelight and began to put the entree on the plates to bring from the kitchen.
Then as she served the last delicate piece of fish, it broke into several pieces on the way from spatula to plate!
Thankfully though, there was no actual harm done. Just appearance. Same delicious taste, same size portion, only broken.
She plated it, covered it artfully with parsley, and brought it to the table with the other beautiful plates. She put it at her own place at the lovely table.
All was delicious and everything went well.

Fast forward to next weekend.
Now "one true love" was showing off his considerable skills at the barbeque grill.
The same people were invited but this time the fish was his renowned marinated and mesquite grilled creation for which he was becoming famous among family and friends.
The rustic outdoor picnic table was perfect for the occasion and a fire pit cast a romantic glow over all.
When the mesquite masterpiece was done, the chef called for the plates to be brought to the grill.
He placed a beautiful piece of fish on each plate. But as he picked up the last one it broke into several small pieces.
Isn't that just the way with fish?
But again, no harm done. Same delicious taste, same size portion, just broken.
He scooped them up.
Then he proudly carried the last two plates to the table where he put the messy fish in front of his intended.
He sat down waiting for the rave reviews.
Everything was delicious and the reviews were indeed raves.

But this time all did not go quite so well.
Now there seemed to be a problem.

The problem was that the young woman's feelings were hurt.
Plus, an additional problem was that he had no idea why her feelings were hurt, and she had no idea that he had no idea.

You see, it never occurred to him that "messy fish" shouldn't be served to a person's true love when there was an unbroken piece to be had.
Or served to any guest for that matter.
It also certainly never crossed his mind that somehow an unbroken fish serving was some sort of love sign.
In his male brain, "messy fish" never had anything to do with love. How could it?
(Perhaps it's the testosterone.)

Then again it never occurred to her that he didn't even notice that one serving was messy. He only noticed same size, same taste.
It also never crossed her mind that it didn't even register with him last week, when he was at her table, that messy fish was not served to a guest, especially him!

To her, serving an imperfect portion when a perfect one was to be had was a sign of disregard and lack of affection.
She certainly would never do such a thing! Especially to her "one true love."
(Estrogen increases brain waves, I believe.)

Well, it turns out that this messy fish thing causes major misunderstanding between the sexes.
"Messy fish" is just a catchphrase, so to speak, for real life situations that occur all the time.
It's too bad too.
Because life would go much more smoothly in the relationship department if men and women would remember a few basic "messy fish" principles.

Like, men and women are different.
They're basically, fundamentally, not identical.
They see life from a different place.
Not a "wrong" place either.  Just another one.

For instance, some things are really important to a woman's very identity which men barely recognize.
Things like the skill and grace with which she treats guests.
Or the appearance of her home.
For instance, comfortable chairs are good but do they co-ordinate tastefully?
Has she used intelligence and care to create a lovely sanctuary for those who live with her?
Is the paint color just right?
Then too, is the appearance of her children up to accepted local standards?
Strangely, even the appearance of a husband who is usually a grown-up can often affect her personally.

*Note
Yes, I am aware of what century this is.
And I do know that women do much of the world's most important work and have many weighty matters on their minds.
I can only call it like I see it.
And I'll bet that lady judge you had dealings with last week made her 6 year old son change his shirt before he left for school just because it didn't match his pants. He didn't understand because he'd already put on a clean one like she'd told him. This stuff starts young.

In fact I was reminded of this strange phenomenon just the other day when one of my daughters asked yet again, "Ma, how come you let Dad go around needing a haircut?"
In my defense I had tried to talk him into getting one the day before, to no avail by the way.
And yet no one has ever asked Larry in his entire lifetime, "Hey Buddy, why haven't you done something about your wife's hairdo?"

This subject also brings to mind one of the first dates I ever had with husband Larry.
Which coincidentally included my first "messy fish" experience with him.

He was a big deal college student and I was still in high school. So I was thrilled when he invited me to attend something called, "Winter Nationals."
This turned out to be some sort of gosh-awful drag racing event held at a horrible, dusty, windblown track out in the scorpion infested Arizona desert boondocks.
I had never heard of it.
Larry and his buddies loved it.

It was a daylong affair so I had graciously offerred to pack a picnic lunch.
Then, despite my youth, I carefully prepared potato salad, fried chicken, and chocolate cupcakes. Our lovely picnic was packed with color co-ordinated paper goods in an attractive wicker picnic basket.

Lunchtime came and Larry said he was indeed hungry.
Yet he remained on the crowded bleachers, eyes and ears glued to those crazy, ear splitting "dragster" races.
I was puzzled.
What about our picnic?
He asked me to just bring it to him.
So I did.

I handed a beautiful plate up.
There, artfully arranged and garnished, was the potato salad, fried chicken, sweet pickles and two kinds of olives, (one with pimento), along with two color coordinated napkins. I was saving the cupcakes for dessert. Chocolate, because I had learned it was his favorite.  I prefer vanilla.

He stopped race watching long enough to look at his lunch.
An expression spread over his face which said, "Is this something from another planet?"
Then he gazed in embarrassment around the crowded bleachers filled with his buddies.
He hurried down the bleachers, trying to hide the food. Then he said in a frantic whisper, "I thought you were bringing bologna sandwiches and a bag of chips!"

After all these years, when that memory comes to mind, it still stings.
And afterward I begin to question the wisdom of certain choices I've made in my life.

But then I remember it's just the "messy fish" thing.

You see, sometimes it's odd what's tied to a woman's deepest feelings.
Sometimes not appreciating them can mean the same as not appreciating her.
Men would be wise to take note. They'd be even wiser to figure out what some of those "oddities" are.

And women may be wise to understand that just because men don't get it doesn't mean they don't love them.

Issues like whether or not his "Surprise!" visiting mother had the good towels or the camp towels to use in the guest bathroom is a case in point.

Imagine a phone call advising an unplanned in-law visit on a lazy Saturday.
The family frantically runs around trying to clean up before the doorbell rings. Husband is advised to put clean towels in the guest bathroom while wife does skilled housekeeping. So he does what he's told.
He gets clean towels
Towels are for drying off.

He didn't understand that they are also a sign to his mother of whether or not his wife is a competent human being.
He didn't get it that putting ratty, unmatched, camp towels from the dryer for his mother to use in the guest bath when the good towels are right there in the cupboard, was showing lack of support for all the things that his wife does to make a good life for him and his children.
Children for which she risked her life to bear for him by the way.

He didn't understand that putting ratty camp towels in the guest bath was stabbing his wife in the back when she was counting on him to cover it instead.

He put clean towels in the guest bathroom, he explained after he figured out that he'd done something really bad, which took a while.
"They were clean!" he yelled.
He really thought it was just about drying off.
What an idiot!

Yes, "Messy fish" is a big idea.
A sincere thanks to Brother Bytheway or whomever for it.
It certainly deserves some careful consideration by both sexes.

Figuring it out, or at least factoring it in, may turn out to be a tremendous help in life.