The Price of Admission – you’re no prize yourself.
A few weeks back I had watched a not-too-long video of Dan Savage discussing relationships and doling out advice to audience members. The answer, or rather – question, he focused on in the clip was from a woman who lamented that she couldn’t find a man with whom she was willing to have a long-term relationship because of all the “little things” she found that annoyed her. Mr. Savage ripped into her, pointing out how she appeared to be the most common denominator in these failed relationships and then brought out the analogy, “The Price of Admission”. The price of admission to be with someone you love may be that you will always have to pick up their dirty socks from where you object of affection has left them lay.
The Price of Admission – Knowing you’re going to be annoyed.
I have mused upon this idea frequently since watching the video and I began to see direct correlations between the price of admission and a variety of other things, be they work and career to just daily life in general. For instance, Mr. Muse and I live “in the sticks” by choice. When we were shopping for this property, we know going in that we’d have admission costs that many other people wouldn’t even want to consider or could not fathom, such as the need to have mouse traps laid out in the house every day of the year and putting out extras at other times.
Friends love to make the drive out from Madison for visits, but frequently remind us that they couldn’t live “so far out of the city”. Now, before everyone begins to think we live hours from civilization – I assure you that our daily commute is under an hour. It’s even close to 30 minutes if I don’t stop for a fancy coffee or to drop of dry cleaning.
But I digress…
Most recently I began to look at my admission prices for other things like traveling. Mr. Muse and I (mostly “I”) have livestock. We have housepets as well, but when you have livestock, going away for a vacation, or even just an overnight, takes on a whole new dimension. No longer can you cram clothes and toiletries into a bag and hit the road – things must be planned and prepared for in advance.
The Price of Admission? Yeah, I’d miss you.
Traveling, one of Mr. Muse’s and my favorite things to do (and the reason we both work full-time), went from tossing things into a bag and hitting the road, to a lengthy checklist including everything from getting the caretaker keys to making sure we couldn’t run out of food for anyone while we were gone. It’s leaving the names of the veterinarians (both for large and small animals) to who to call if there is a problem with the honeybees. But, all of that is our price of admission to living where we do, having a variety of animals, and loving to travel.
Once I began to think of these things as my prices of admission, be they for being in relationships with people to living out here in the sticks, I began to be a lot less uptight about certain things. I am, of course, by no means perfect on letting everything go and chalking it up to admission prices, but I’m getting better.
So what are some of your “price of admission” items?
Musings of the Amusing Muse 
I read what you have to go through to head out . . . and it really seems like you have your priorities all in order. The kids’ favorite uncle, Uncle Jerry, owns Alpacas — and he’s loathe to even leave for an overnight, just in case. And it’s hard to blame him. Though I do think the animals would, almost certainly, be just fine for an evening. But, if something happened & he wasn’t there (and hadn’t made arrangements to have someone look after them), he’d never get over it.
For me? What’s my price of admission? There’s a “need to be able to schedule around crazy theatre schedules” bit. And put up with my prioritizing working out & eating clean . . . but that’s not all that difficult. At least, I don’t think so – I don’t actually have to live with me.
I keep telling Mr. Muse that I think I’m incredibly difficult to live with – Mr. Muse tells me I’m not. I have to admit though that I think he’s biased in his opinions.
As for leaving the house and animals in the good hands of someone who cares – I’m all for it, even if there are times where I think “what if something happens”. It’ll all work out in the end.
Even if there are traits of yours which might be difficult to live with, something tells me your combination of sense of humor, work ethic, and disarming looks make those just float to the background.
Awwww, you’re trying to make me blush! I like to think I’m entertaining most of the time and that makes up for those times where I’m not very good company.
Growing up can be such a bitch, eh? The price of admission for love is my time. Oddly enough, something I am incredibly selfish with. When asked to listen, participate, help or give my time to my muse for one of her projects, I remind myself that, really Michael, what’s a few hours compared to a lifetime with this lovely woman?
I have to admit that being present in the moment is an issue for me as well, so I think I can appreciate where you’re coming from!
One price of admission as I see it is learning – maybe patience, maybe to adjust, maybe acceptance, maybe sometimes realizing that what is an imperfection today may not be one tomorrow, maybe things that were irritations in the past now melts away under the duress of a weightier health issue.
Another is change and dealing with it. At my age now my mantra is – It is what it is – because you can’t change change. You can’t foresee it. You can’t predict it. The longer you are with someone the more change you will see. Some is subtle, some blatant, some for the good, some not so good. Sometimes you see, sometimes you don’t. People will say you never change or oh you’re always the same. I’ve been married to my lovely bride for 41 years. She is not the same as the young woman I married and I’m far from the guy she married. Also the price is not equitable; we have each paid our own price of admission and continue to pay each new day we see.
D.L. Wood
Agreed. When it comes to relationships, there is always a price of admission, sometimes more – sometimes less. I think, however, that the concept applies to everything we do in life in general – not just interpersonal relationships. Work, play, they all have a “price of admission” – it’s determining if we want, and are ready, to pay the price.
As far as relationships go and the price of admission to be in one, that was something Mr. Muse and I discussed in our pre-engagement discussions: the fact that we were both going to change as we aged and we both had to bear that in mind. Perhaps there is something to be said for pragmatism?