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Let Us Gawk at the Weird
Marriage may be one of the more contentious issues around here, but I think the particulars described in this NYT piece about the marriage habits of the fabulously wealthy of Manhattan should unite the Ricochetti in fascinated condescension:
It was easy for me to fall into the belief, as I lived and lunched and mothered with more than 100 of them for the better part of six years, that all these wealthy, competent and beautiful women, many with irony, intelligence and a sense of humor about their tribalism (“We are freaks for Flywheel,” one told me, referring to the indoor cycling gym), were powerful as well. But as my inner anthropologist quickly realized, there was the undeniable fact of their cloistering from men. There were alcohol-fueled girls’ nights out, and women-only luncheons and trunk shows and “shopping for a cause” events. There were mommy coffees, and women-only dinners in lavish homes. There were even some girlfriend-only flyaway parties on private planes, where everyone packed and wore outfits the same color.
Strange, yes, but ways one might expect. But then we get to this section:
We’ve been talking a lot about marriage and divorce around here lately. As someone who’s been married for almost 13 years with some very rough spots along the way, I feel like this is a topic about which I can speak authoritatively. In particular, I’d like to talk about a duty that primarily — though by no means exclusively — falls to wives: ego management.
The other day, my sister-in-law commented on 
I was never in the military; I was in the last draft class that sent people to Vietnam, but my draft number was 275, so I wasn’t called. Rush Limbaugh likes to recount the story of how Bill Clinton regretted that 9/11 happened on his successor’s watch, thus depriving him of the opportunity to show true leadership.
It’s Friday and Amelia Hamilton is here to answer your questions on life, love, and sweet tea.
When my youngest child was in kindergarten, we were talking with him one day about what he’d learned at school. We soon realized that he had misunderstood his teacher when she taught the class about coin values. When we explained the true coin values, he became very upset because he thought his teacher had misinformed the class and was worried that he could not trust his teacher. He instinctively understood that if he incorrectly defined the values of pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters, he could never hope to understand the larger monetary system. He had to rely on the basics he was learning in kindergarten to be his building blocks for all the other, more complicated things he would learn in the future.
The summer that I was 21 and home from college, I went to see the musical comedy She Loves Me at our local community theater. I went with my parents. I was completely unattached, having only been on a handful of awkward dates in my life. My folks liked comedies and I loved theater. I had acted in and painted sets for many shows at this converted barn-playhouse since I was in high school.