When Did Women Start Calling the Shots?

In my later years my life has become dominated by women. It’s a fate that seems to overtake many men, but somehow I escaped in childhood. Neither my mother nor my older sister had much influence over me.

I was a man’s man, or thought I was. Even in my marriage, which has lasted 56 years, I remained free of female domination. Not that my wife isn’t a woman of strong will. But she is not overbearing.

Suddenly I find myself in the hands of women who are not relatives, either by blood or marriage. They simply seem to be in control of some phases of my life, whether I like it or not.

One is a young woman I call my keeper. Her name is Eleanor Yvonne Gabourel.

People call her Elly, though I rather favor Yvonne. Elly is from Belize.

She stays with me at home four days a week while my wife is at work. She prepares my breakfast and lunch, launders my shirts and underwear, does light housekeeping and fetches for me.

She also drives me to my doctor appointments. She is a good driver. She never makes left turns in front of oncoming traffic. She is patient. She does not have a heavy foot, like my wife.

She is pretty, petite and smart. She is married to a man from Belize and has a 9-year-old daughter. She laughs easily. Altogether she is a very good keeper.

My physical therapist is a young woman named Kathy Doubleday. She is very lithe and athletic. She works with me two days a week, making me walk without my cane or walker. When my women are not with me, I am dependent on such props.

My third woman is Christine Steffanus, my gym instructor at the Pasadena Athletic Club. I call her “Cookie.” I don’t know why. She isn’t especially sweet. She doesn’t crumble. But I think it suits her.

She is a hard taskmaster. She makes me walk without my cane, urging me to take long steps with my lame right leg. She is unrelenting. “Take long steps,” she commands. “Put that right foot out!” She is impervious to my complaints.

She is planning to get married next year, as soon as she and her fiance save enough money for the wedding. I urged her not to wait. You don’t have to have a big wedding. Besides, I thought that being married might soften her attitude toward me.

My wife likes these women. She is always asking me, “How did you get along with Kathy today?” Or with Elly or Cookie. I think she sympathizes with them, and she feels that they are relieving her of some of the burden.

The other woman I have to live with, of course, is my wife. She is incredibly strong. She complained over the weekend that I was depressed, and she didn’t need that.

Though I have plenty of reason, I try not to be depressed. Depression is merely a form of self-pity. My wife is hard to depress, but sometimes I’m too much for her.

My wife runs my life. She allows me one beer a day. Every day about 4 o’clock, Elly opens a bottle of beer and sets it on my table, or desk if I’m working. I suppose she’d get me another one if I insisted, but she’d have to tell my wife and it wouldn’t be worth the hassle

“Elly tells me you had two bottles of beer today. How come?”

“Because I wanted two.”

That should be the end of it, but of course I’d feel guilty.

Every evening before dinner my wife makes a vodka tonic for both of us. We call it our fix. I don’t get two, except when we go out to dinner I sometimes manage to get two--sometimes even two and a glass of wine. Or two.

On those occasions, however, I find it harder than usual to walk. My wife has to hold onto my right arm and sometimes I run her off the sidewalk or into a wall.

These restraints naturally annoy me. I have been a free spirit all my life. I don’t feel that I need anyone’s permission to do anything legal. On the other hand, if my wife were to desert me or turn on me I’d be helpless. If she deserted me so would Elly, Kathy and Cookie.

Then, of course, I could have all the beer I wanted and all the vodka. But that would turn me into a sot, offensive not only to myself but also to everyone else.

I am too lucky to be depressed. I have a wonderful family, including those other two women in my life, my daughters-in-law. I have my books; I have my dogs.

On the other hand, I don’t see why I can’t have two beers.