What's Not to Laugh?

Almost everything about aging–except grave illness and death–can be funny as well as disturbing. I try to find the funny and help us all get through it!

Archive for the month “March, 2014”

I’m not a killer. I just watch them on TV.

My husband is concerned. We have a good life (knock on wood) and a great marriage. We hardly ever argue—unless you call sarcasm arguing—and we really meant “until death do us part” when we recited our vows almost 19 years ago. That’s the trouble.

I am addicted to TV shows that feature true crime: 48 Hours, Dateline, 20/20, Forensic Files, Snapped, and others like them. I watch as many as I can, but I especially love the ones about the married couple that seems to be deliriously happy…until one spouse kills the other. I try to point out to my husband, who has noticed this passion of mine and glances at me with a “should I be worried?” expression, that I am not partial to wives killing husbands. The other way around holds my interest too.

My favorites are the stories in which nobody suspects that the murderous spouse is anything but the pillar of society he or she wants the world to know. They are ministers, physicians, military officers, heads of charity organizations, PTA presidents, chemists (although those can be the worst given their intricate knowledge of poisonous substances). Then, suddenly, there’s an “accident” or an “apparent suicide.” The spouse is always questioned first, but most of the time he or she is released, even if the alibi is weak or the account of what happened has a few holes.

With further investigation, the prosecutor finds out that this pillar of society has had twelve girlfriends (or boyfriends, which can apply to either spouse), was running a Ponzi scheme, has been married before but never got divorced, or is a total fraud—fooling everyone in town. Now the plot thickens.

My spouse can rest assured that I don’t fit the profile. We have no children who could be the target of ugly custody battles. We don’t have a billion dollars to fight over. The distribution of what we do have is very neatly documented in mutually agreed upon living trusts and wills. I don’t have a secret relationship with anyone. (Who has the time—or at my age, the inclination?) And most important of all? I love him and could not imagine living without him.

So, fear not, dear. I love watching these shows the way other people (seems like most of them) watch football or hockey. It’s my armchair sport. Besides, with all the high-tech forensics and databases available now, I’d never get away with it!

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