How To Keep Your Austinophile Happy While Maintaining Your Masculinity
Well Gentleman, I must tell you I found myself in a dilemma, a crossroads in life not easily negotiated. You see, the woman I love is a hopelessly lost Jane Austinophile. And with no pride or prejudice, I gathered up what little sense I had left and came up with the following sensibilities: I could ignore her passion, give her her space, and I have mine. But there are only so many Monday Night football games I can watch until I would miss the pitter patter of her feet before she flops next to me with questions about what to do about things I have no idea what to do about.
I could also walk the middle road, try and balance the tight rope between the Rugby Club and editing her blogs on Georgian society, which would eventually, just get me into to trouble with everyone.
I chose the road less travelled and fully embraced her Austinate-world of love and suffering to try and ease some of her pain and hopefully some of mine. After all, if there is one thing 23 years in the Army taught me was that sometimes you win a whole lot more without fighting and choosing the hard right over the easy wrong was a very small price to pay to see the light in her eyes and the joy in her movements as she goes about her day.