I Can Explain

It was like a bad 1980’s television episode of Matlock.  What had I gotten myself into?  Matlock, as you are well aware, is perhaps the greatest defense lawyer of all time and arguably in all of lawyerdom.  The typical episode’s opening scene shows a group of people surprising a man who just happens to be hovering over a lifeless, recently stabbed body while he holds a knife dripping with the victim’s blood.  The startled man immediately rises up to proclaim his innocence with a profound, unpredictable declaration, “I know how this looks and I can explain.”  Have you seen that episode before?  If you’ve ever seen Matlock, believe me, you’ve seen that episode.

This time it was all too real.  I recently found myself trapped in the same starring role gazing at a crowd of inquisitive witnesses.  In fact, it was the exact situation … well, except for the dead body and bloody knife part.  So let’s just call it eerily similar, shall we?  I did, of course, bellow those same words to a similarly skeptical crowd.  It was all a misunderstanding and I wondered if even Matlock could get me out of this one.  I was innocent.  I just needed a chance to explain.

The following testimony will set the record straight.  Hear me out.  Don’t judge me for I’ve done nothing wrong.  These are the facts as I remember them.

(Slowly blur image and queue the soundtrack of a harp as we transition to a memory sequence.)

It was a beautiful valentine’s weekend and things were going great.  I had my sweetheart, happily married 22 years, in one arm and our lovely daughter, on earth for 17 years, in the other.  With pride and self-confidence, I paid for our movie tickets and we headed straight for the popcorn stand.  Now armed with a fresh, large bag of popcorn, it was on to our movie destination in theater number six.  We were so close that I could even hear theater number six calling to us at the end of the long hallway.  Unfortunately, between us and the theater, we each had a decision to make.  The girls both expressed a non-negotiable and rather urgent desire to powder their noses.  I don’t question their decision.  I question mine.  You see, that’s when the trouble all started.  They chose to divert to the restroom.  I chose to continue on, alone, to theater number six.

(Perhaps some suspense music could be inserted here.)

The same pride and self-confidence that was with me when I purchased the tickets was present as I crossed the threshold of theater number six.  I was early.  The sneak peak of future movies had not yet started so the room was rather well lit.

OK, freeze the camera frame and let’s recap, shall we?

1. Happy go lucky, overweight, and middle aged guy walks into crowded, well lit theater number six holding a large bag of popcorn.  He is completely alone.  He is by himself.  He has no one to accompany him.  (Yes, the alone part is critical to the plot.)
2. Umm …I really can’t think of a second point so let’s continue with this real life Matlock parody.

And ACTION!

Wait, wait, cut!  Cut the camera!  There is a second point here that’s relevant.  Not sure how I forgot it other than to say that sometimes we tend to block out from our memory things that are traumatic.  So, here’s my second point …

2.      Naive sap carrying the large bag of popcorn walks into a crowded theater of ALL women preparing to enjoy a chick flick.  A chick flick is a … oh, never mind.  Go ask someone else if you don’t know what a chick flick is.

And ACTION!

The sound of murmuring background conversation could be heard as I rounded the corner with my cherished bag of popcorn.  While gazing at the seating and hoping to land a prime viewing location, it occurred to me that the background chatter had ceased.  The room was now silent.  I did a quick visual inventory and immediately saw the pattern.  There were no men in the room which could only mean one thing.  Yep, that meant there were only women in the room.  YIKES!  All eyes were now gazing on the out of place, motionless spectacle standing before them … yes, me.  A dog barked in the distance.  (Not really, but having a dog bark adds to the drama of a suspenseful and awkward moment.)  The sweat began to bead up on my forehead.  (On the bright side, at least I wasn’t carrying my wife’s purse this time … uh, I mean anytime, not carrying my wife’s purse anytime because I don’t carry purses.  Got that?  What?  No I’m not being defensive.  Just drop the whole purse topic, will ya?  Leave it alone because it’s not relevant to the story.)  Now … where was I?  Oh yea, the sweat began to bead up on my forehead.  It was either use my cat like reflexes to exit the theater or drop to the ground and show my dead possum imitation.  I chose a third option.  I came right out and proclaimed my innocence with a profound, unpredictable declaration, “I know how this looks and I can explain.”

Cut to commercial.  Turn off the television and let’s chat.

Yea, I can explain alright.  You know, now that I think about it, I am completely guilty.  I’m guilty of being forever in love with my wife and showing our daughter what love inside of marriage looks like.  We willingly do things together.  We willingly do things for each other.  I’d even carry her purse if she needed my help.  Sure, I’d quickly stuff it under my jacket, but I’d still help.  I pray that each day I may communicate in words and action my love for my wife, Carrie.  I also pray that our daughter, Amanda, could one day find a husband that will honor God, honor her, and willingly share life experiences together with as much joy as Carrie and I have through the years.

Right about now, you’re probably thinking that tonight’s a great night for your date night.  Well, your spouse agrees.  Now, get out there.  Somewhere.  Anywhere.  Laugh, have fun, and I’ll just bet you’ll foster a marriage and a memory that you’ll both cherish.

And ACTION!