Two Peas in a Pod

By Jim Hagarty

Dearly Beloved …

It is not a rule that longtime married couples have to eventually look exactly like each other and yet, in so many cases, that is what they do. Even physical features and mannerisms seem to begin blending after awhile.

One day this winter I saw an extreme case. A slim, 50s-something, man and woman walking briskly along the sidewalk on their way to a parking lot. To begin with, they were exactly the same height and build. They wore identical long red winter coats. I don’t know if they were both wearing women’s coats or both men’s, but they were the same coats.

Same big BLACK fluffy mitts. Each wore BLACK pants. She wore high-top BLACK boots and while his were more low-cut, they were BLACK, of course. She wore BLACK ear muffs and his ear protection, while somewhat different, was BLACK, what else. The only distinguishing characteristic I could see was his brown cap.

They walked with precisely the same gait and at the same speed. A visiting Martian, getting a quick glimpse of these two and leaving Earth quickly without seeing any other people would report to headquarters that all humans look exactly the same. In this couple’s case, the little alien would not be wrong.

I just hope that, happily married or not, man and wife have managed to hang on to some of their individuality.

Otherwise, it would seem a little freaky to wake up one day and realize you were married to yourself.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.