Kenergy

who sees your playful side?

Yesterday, Ken came home from work in the middle of the day, and boy was he chatty. It was a comical role reversal, me working quietly on a project with our child and him bounding in with stories to share. “Who are you!?” I teased. At the end of a normal work day he’s generally pretty whipped.

We’d talked about this on our walk last week: how we need to make more time for each other in play mode. One of the primary bummers about partnership, about living with a partner, is how little of that we get. The beginning of a relationship, the falling in love with someone as you see them out in the world, transcends banal life stuff. Home basically is the banal stuff. Ideally there’s warmth and safety and lots of love, but it’s also the place we come back to after a long day to relax and maybe poop, where it’s safe to be annoyed at each other.

The point is Ken can be—is—a playful person. It might not be visible the first time you meet him, but it’s there. The people he works with, those he interacts with during the day, are probably the primary witnesses of his desire to make what could be a grind a pretty good time. There’s also usually a reserve for our kid when he comes home. I doubt she views her father as a very serious person.

This is not about him, of course. It’s about where our most playful self comes out, what time of day and in what setting. I also suck at the end of the day at home. Or rather, I did until I made the cabin my bedroom (It’s going swimmingly, btw. I love my family more and others more. Weird how good begets good).

it was legit

Ken is generally not into birthdays and definitely doesn’t like attention. So when he said, sometime last fall, “For my 50th, I think we should have a carnival,” I jumped up.

One of the best things about our small community is that “asking around” is still a thing. The church has popcorn and cotton candy machines, the local aerialists’ silks create a perfect circus tent vibe. It’s easy to rent out the Oddfellows Hall, ask a bunch of friends to come up with booths, book performers from off island.

The day of, we still weren’t sure how it was going to go, but it came together at the 11th hour. When you ask for favors for celebratory reasons, people tend to turn out. The games were legit. There was a lot of candy. The circus performers were unbelievable. Kenival was a smashing success. Ken and I make a point to not collaborate much, know we would irritate each other a lot, but it was special to join forces to throw an awesome party. Extra fun to see him share his playful side with the community.

invite people to play and they will

Another thing that makes Kenny great is his understanding that as a writer, I talk about my own life as a way of examining larger societal issues. Since I write mostly about the tensions between committed partnership and sexual liberation, that means he’s a main character in most of my essays. He’s able to step back, understand it’s not about him. It helps that he comes off pretty great most of the time.

In the larger writing world, how we represent real people is a big theme, but there’s generally a sense that our stories are ultimately ours to tell. If you care for the person, you’ll put a lot of thought into what gets included and what doesn’t. In a very small town, it’s different. It’s mostly, “Oh my god, he’s a saint for being ok with you writing about him!!” For me, both are true: he’s not the boss of me, but I’m also so, so grateful he gets it.

Speaking of where my writer self and local self overlap, I’ll be reading a condensed version of my essay “Juno’s House Rules” at the Orcas Island Public Library this Friday, November 3rd @ 6pm. If you’re around, come show your support for island writers!

Optional Assignment: With a partner or a friend (someone who regularly gets a less energized version of you), schedule a meeting in the middle of the day to do something lighthearted. If you and a bud usually grab beers at 6pm, maybe go fly a kite at noon one day.