Just another WordPress.com weblog

It’s such a compelling trait for a woman to find in a man, that cavalier manner; that passion to leave his mark; that battle against being ordinary. When I look at Grandma, I get a sense she couldn’t quite feel Grandpa’s drive or relate to it, but she loved it. She was all in. I don’t even know whether she actually understood the things my grandpa cared about – the mechanism of the key, for heaven’s sake, the physics behind a pulley, the economic role of the corncob pipe in twentieth-century America – but she found the man endlessly interesting. She was sort of like Dorothy in Jerry Maguire: I’ll stand back and support you, even when I can’t read your heart. And when you come home at the end of the day, I’ll happily be your soft place to fall.

How to Love an American Man, Kristine Gasbarre