They thought they were doing the right thing -- REALLY, they did.
When mutual friends introduced Chris and me, they thought we had a lot in common -- they thought we might like each other. They were right about the second part; we hit it off right away. And superficially, they were right about the first part. Both of us like the outdoors a lot. But the devil can be in the details.
Both Chris and I like to kayak (see photos). Need I say more? OK, I will. Chris likes whitewater adventures that involve waterfalls, Eskimo rolls, and something called a "seal launch." I like flat water, either in the form of a lake or, better yet, a gently moving, deep river that takes me downstream without a lot of effort on my part. My kayaking adventures include a lot of birdwatching, sunbathing, and conversation -- and lunch, usually. A nice, calm, scenic picnic lunch somewhere. The only "rolls" in my kayak are the ones to spread the brie on.
I thought perhaps I could find a man who golfs, at least -- don't they ALL golf? But, no, I think a man of Chris' energy finds golf about as adrenaline-stimulating as watching grass grow.
But at least we have our common love of music. Except that his manifests in ownership of a home entertainment system that rivals the control room at the Kennedy Space Center, while I play in a little acoustic folk trio. My home music system is a CD player with built-in speakers I bought at a discount store for less than $20. You would think he'd wince in audiophilic agony every time I "crank that puppy up," but he doesn't.
A Ray Of Hope Which brings me to my next point. Despite our differences, we seem to be having a great time. When I plop a folk CD in my tiny, tinny player and turn it on so we can have some ambience with the lovely meal I'm serving, Chris not only doesn't complain about the music, he certainly seems to prefer my pesto-crusted salmon and homemade risotto over a Big Mac when given the choice.
Sometimes, when one of us mentions a hobby with great passion and the other looks blank, I feel a touch of despair. I wonder why our relationship seems to work. Then I remember yin and yang, the Chinese concept of complementary opposites, "seemingly disjunct or opposing forces that are interconnected and interdependent in the natural world." Hmmm. Those little black-and-white paisley shapes look pretty comfortable, all curled up like that.
Maybe those matchmaking friends were doing the right thing after all.
Sally O'Neal lives, writes, and recreates in the slow lane from her home in southeastern Washington State. At this writing, she is off to an adventure in Eastern Europe. Did she mention that her beau Chris isn't particularly interested in international travel? But that's another column.