The abstraction layer

This one is for all those die-hard bachelors, or those computer geeks who just cannot understand the concept of marriage.

While discussing things, more like arguing about things just for the sake of arguing (mostly because it ends up with her trying to shut me up with a kiss), with my beloved, I came upon this unique computer-analogy of describing marriage, more importantly the wife aspect of marriage as it is relevant to a man. This, of course, assumes that you've got a well-tested, stable version of the software/operating system for things to work as smoothly as it is described here. Instead if you get the Windoze of the marriage world, then you'll be fixing BSOD's for the rest of your married life, which, if you are lucky, will not last long.

<Aside> Yeah, this might sound like those endless forwards we receive everyday via the wonderful World-Wide-Web about upgrading Girlfriend 1.0 to Wife 2.0. So fine, you know about that. I'm just explaining the inner workings of Wife, when Wife works. (Oooh... an unintended pun... you'll see what I mean soon enough!)</Aside>

It all started when we were talking about a certain friend's newly found boyfriend's sensitive side, especially his knowledge of dryer settings.

<Aside>
I've had the good fortune of not having to look at the different settings on my washer/dryer ever since we moved into this new house, even though the washer/dryer is right beside the kitchen, where I cook on most weekends, and sometimes during weekdays. My wife, and previously my girlfriend, is obsessive about cleaning; and so I let her do it, because she claims it makes her happy, but mostly because I'm too lazy. I mildly suspect that she feels slightly superior to be able to do this task better than I can, which I'm not admitting to in any way, but I am more than happy not to challenge, mostly because I have no interest in doing the task myself, as much as it might be a blow to my ego to let someone go on with life thinking that they are superior to me. Of course, we are equals in marriage... so we don't have any ego problems. *grin*

My wife believes that as a man I would never be able to comprehend the concept of fabrics, the wash-cycle, the washer/dryer controls - a typical gender stereotype that somehow seems to make women feel better than men. Much like the other gender stereotype which I've been subjected to a lot recently, mainly because of my recent wedding and my upcoming reception: the wedding is mostly a bride's affair and men, especially the groom, are dolts who cannot even be trusted with a decision which requires just the IQ of a mollusc. While, my bride has been extremely patient with me, this is a stereotype I've been subjected to many a time in that annoying show on TV called Whose Wedding Is It Anyway? And I absolutely detest this show. Ooops... I guess this is the point where I accidentally confirm the stereotype and then like God in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, promptly vanish in a puff of smoke.

I still maintain that doing laundry isn't such a difficult thing. Sure there are controls and settings on the washer/dryer, and if I'd to do it, it might take me a couple of seconds the first time round to decide on the settings. But the thing is, I can figure it out by a process of logical deduction, and it wouldn't require me to have a female brain (refer to the a great linguistic blog called the Language Log to amuse yourself while they try and debunk the notion of difference in male vs. female brain). It is no different from giving me a VCR and a remove that I've never seen before and asking me to set the time on the machine. Five minutes later, I'd have set the time and also discovered an obscure feature that you never knew existed in your VCR.
</Aside>


Phew! That was a long aside. So naturally the issue of washer/dryer sparked the old debate of how I'd never have to worry about doing laundry again. And then my wife quipped, "Surely you'd want to know the processes involved." And then I realized, "No, I don't have to." The wife is the perfect abstraction layer. All I need to know is that if I've a good loving wife, then the clothes I throw in the laundry basket at the end of the day will somehow in a week's time, end up neatly folded on the shelves in the closet or on hangers as they should be. It is sort of like the knowledge that you need a TV to watch programmes. You don't need to actually know how the TV decodes signal into a picture-sound combination on the screen & speakers, you just need to know how to work the remote, even there, mostly the big red power button.

Of course, you'd get some idea of the internal processes involved by looking at the components lying around in your house, seemingly serving no useful purpose, but invariably generating some hideous noise when you are trying to watch your favorite TV show, which must somehow be the underlying hardware of this wife abstraction layer. For example, the huge white hunks of metal lying in the corner of your house taking up valuable floor-space, called the washer and dryer. You might not understand it, but you have the good sense not to fiddle with it because you've seen your wife refer to these things as "My preciousss..." Or for that matter, you suddenly sense some disturbance in the wife abstraction layer (no, you don't need a Yoda-level understanding of the Force, you just need the survival instincts that Darwinian evolution has pre-installed in you), which can seemingly be only appeased by a $400 component called the Dyson vacuum cleaner. Much like the knowledge that to watch certain programming, you'll need a cable box, some additional cables, and a couple more remotes.

So all you need to learn is one interface, namely your wife and keeping her happy. And she will automatically find and install all the necessary components which will greatly enhance your life. Of course, some of those components cost, but believe me, the comforts that those things come with are totally worth it.

P.S. Luckily for me, my wife is very understanding, so I won't have to spend the rest of the week in the dog-house, assuming we'd one in our small apartment, for writing this. At least, I'm hoping so. *fingers crossed*