So I’m sitting on the front porch tonight petting spiders and arguing with my husband about the efficacy of the Walkers in ‘Empire Strikes Back.’

I maintain that the walkers are cool and are not, in fact, ridiculous examples of technology gone dreadfully wrong. I think they look like my friend Sara’s turtles and should be celebrated, not derided. Jim counters with the argument that while they do look like Sara’s turtles, they are pointless in a universe where people can fly and thus trip said walkers with grappling hooks and long bits of line.

This is one of the many reasons why we are married.

In fact – tomorrow marks the ninth anniversary of when we *thought* we were married (as opposed to the day some three weeks later when it was officially legal – but that’s a story for perhaps another time…)

We argue over things like the efficacy of walkers on ice planets, the fact that infinity is one thing, but infinity plus two has to be more (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it), and whether or not clowns truly do inhabit the walls of our house (I would say that they don’t, except for the random bits of greasepaint I find from time to time…).

Anyway – I’m extremely fortunate to have found someone who claims to be mean, but makes up for it by being real healthy… – which of course means that he understands the cultural milieu of Mayberry – which is just up the road a piece from my childhood home.

He dances with cats, he understands why one should never kill a spider and knows a hawk from a handsaw.

He can stand on the front porch during a rip-snorter, appreciate my need for Jim Cantore during hurricane season, and attend a concert in NYC of a band he doesn’t like simply because I’m totally obsessed.

I can’t believe my luck.

But the walkers still rule.

Oh yeah.