A New Model

When we lived in Germany, during my HS days, my father worked in a small unit.  It was one Lt Colonel, six Majors, one Tech Sgt.  Everybody knew each other and their families.  At one point, there was a change of command.  The new Lt Col was a real Robert Conrad type: small, tenacious, charismatic.  300 pounds of TNT in a 170 pound package.  We got to know him, his pretty young wife, and his funny little dog reasonably well.  There were the picnics, the office Christmas party.  When he had been in the unit maybe 9-10 months, he took leave in the States for a couple of weeks.  Shortly after they got back, they had a dinner party, sort of a house warming to show off the new place they’d moved into.  There’s the Colonel, the pretty young wife, the funny little dog, the new house.  


It wasn’t the same….wife.

They never said crap about that.  Not, “I’d like you to meet my new wife. “Not, “Heh, I ditched the ole bag at a truck stop.”  Not, “Traded in for a new model.”  Nada.  Nobody said one word about it.

For the first half hour I looked around suspiciously, thinking, “I could SWEAR that’s not the same woman.  And, see! He called her Lisa.  The other one was Kate.  But…why is nobody else wondering?”  Of course, if your commanding officer doesn’t want to talk about trading in his wife, then I guess you let it go, but it was interesting.  Like, maybe, there was hidden camera pranking us to see who would be the first to say that the Emperor was naked.

But now I completely understand: The more you explain yourself, the less people understand you

And, more importantly, it couldn’t matter less.  


About blondeapocalypse

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3 Responses to A New Model

  1. rushmorejudd says:

    Still strange.Maybe there was a discussion among the adults?

  2. Mitzi Miller says:

    I’ve experienced similarly different situations.

  3. That is bizarre. I suspect some people knew what was going on, but you’d think you would have overheard.

    In grad school, I attended a party at my advisor’s house one night with a number of classmates. We sat around discussing communicative competence theory with him and his wife until late in the evening. When I was over there again a few months later for a Trivial Pursuits evening, his wife was gone and all traces of her had been removed. I hadn’t heard a thing and I didn’t ask. But at least there wasn’t another wife there.

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