Reflections on the State of the Unions

It was the sort of conversation that makes me put aside my single-mom blues and, for a moment, feel lucky that I’m no longer married:

Two men, behind me in line at the bagel shop, were comparing notes on their exercise routine.

The short guy complained that his legs had been aching, so he’d spent extra time stretching that morning. But that set him back, cut into his schedule.

And spurred his wife to launch World War III.

Again? asked his buddy, chuckling. What was it this time?

Well, he’d started on the treadmill late so he wasn’t finished when it was Carol’s turn. Before he was even at 15 minutes, she was badgering him about taking so long.

“Get off. . . . Aren’t you off yet?” He mimicked her whine, her caustic tone. “For chrissakes, now I’m gonna be late. It is my turn; you are out of time!”

So he cut it short, but that wasn’t enough.

“She started pointing to these drops of sweat on the treadmill, complaining that I didn’t wipe it down.” And when he did, she yelled because it was with her good towel. And he missed a spot. And he took too long. And why was he always so sloppy, so slow? . . .

“So I said, ‘Nothing I ever do pleases you . . . I get the feeling I can’t do anything right.’ ”

And that really made her blow.

His friend nodded sympathetically. “That’s why I never say anything, no matter what she complains. They just want to fight. They start looking for conversation, and that leads to trouble.

“So I just get out of the house as quickly as possible . . . and try to stay away.”

They both laughed, and the conversation shifted . . . to interest rates and EBay and whether they’d booked time on the links this weekend.

And I wondered if Carol was still fuming, what she was telling her friends, and what they would say.

*

Looking back at 17 years of marriage, I can remember plenty of those conversations:

You did. I did not. You don’t care. I’m sick of listening to you complain. You’re selfish. You drive me crazy. If it wasn’t for the children . . .

They often had little to do with the topic at hand--the sweat-smeared treadmill, the untrained dog, the unexplained charge on the Visa bill--but reflected the inner angst and outside pressures that could turn partners into competitors and make marriage feel like a battlefield.

In fact, a new study by the Rutgers-based National Marriage Project suggests that married couples today are less likely to be happy than ever before.

Twenty-five years ago, more than half of all married people said they were “very happy” in their marriages. Today, only about one-third feel that way.

In fact, the study suggests that after 10 years of marriage, only about 25% of marriages can be considered “successful” . . . that is intact and happy.

“Americans haven’t given up on marriage as a cherished ideal or a personal life goal,” the study says. “But the quest for a good marriage is becoming more difficult and uncertain” as the role of marriage in society changes.

The importance of marriage as an institution is declining, the study’s authors say. Witness the increase in single-parent families, the acceptance of unmarried cohabitation, the fact that more people marry later (or not at all) and divorce more often and easily.

That has forced a redefinition of marriage and made us more apt to enter marriage looking not for economic security, social ties or moral grounding, but for fulfillment of our sexual and emotional needs . . . and thus more likely to be disappointed.

“Our standards and expectations for marriage have risen to a much higher level than in earlier decades,” says Rutgers professor David Popenoe, one of the study’s authors. “Fewer marriages can meet these standards.”

In other words, happiness in marriage is not measured these days by whether we are raising healthy children, climbing the economic ladder, contributing to our community’s well-being.

But by whether we’re meeting each other’s sexual and emotional needs.

Or by whether we finish our workout on time. And whether we leave the treadmill clean.

*

Back in bagel shops across America, the conversation continues:

“Now, why would you say that? I never said you couldn’t do anything right! I’m just tired, because your dog kept me up all night.”

“All night? I took him out before I went to bed so we wouldn’t have a problem.”

“Well, we had a problem. He started barking at 3 a.m., but you didn’t hear him. You never stopped snoring. And I never got back to sleep the whole night.”

And on and on. . . .

Sandy Banks’ column is published on Sundays and Tuesdays. Her e-mail address is sandy.banks@latimes.com.