RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

What if husbands and wives had to follow the same guidelines as the presidential debaters? Herewith, the Memorandum of Matrimonial Understanding.

The Times-Picayune

Chris Rose

Tuesday, October 5, 2004

We've heard a lot lately about that infamous document put together by the Commission on Presidential Debates, 32 pages that lay out the ground rules for the oratorical tangles between George Bush, John Kerry and their running mates.

The press and punditry have decried the Memorandum of Understanding (that's its real name) as a wasteland of spontaneity-killing minutiae. The comics and satirists have forged their own parodies of the document, parroting its stiff self-importance and lack of ambiguity.

I think this is a knee-jerk reaction. I have given hours of study to the Memorandum of Understanding and I view it as one of the vital documents of our time, a series of guidelines and binding agreements more profound and far-reaching than its authors could have imagined.

I propose that the Memorandum of Understanding be immediately adapted into our nation's matrimonial code. After all, who more resembles a bickering couple than Bush and Kerry?

The badly-suffering institution of marriage can be saved if all married couples follow the Memorandum of Understanding. In fact, I announced to my wife this weekend that our union was, until further notice, bound by the code, with the term "spouse" substituted for all references to the term "candidate."

To wit: Rule 5(h) states that "Each candidate shall determine the manner by which he prefers to be addressed . . ."

This eliminates all those grating little pet nicknames around my house, stuff like "shnookims" and "honey bunny," which just drive me crazy. I have told my wife that I wish to be addressed hereafter as Hardbody Man of My Dreams, Source of All Knowledge.

My wife (who, admittedly, is not as enamored of the Memorandum of Understanding as I am) has asked me to call her Kelly.

Rule 9(a)(iii) provides a fine way for husband and wife to begin each day: "The candidates shall enter the stage . . . proceed to center stage, shake hands and proceed directly to their positions behind their podiums."

Substitute "kitchen" for "center stage" and "kitchen table" for "podium," and you have a nice, civil approach to breakfast.

9(b)(iii) says, "The podiums shall be ten (10) feet apart . . ."

That seems like a safe distance to eliminate any unpleasant incidents of morning breath, nostril whistling and the stinging spray of citric acid when squeezing a lemon into tea.

Rule 6(e) says, "At no time . . . shall either candidate move from their designated area behind their respective podiums."

Good! All this morning fidgeting and rushing around drives me crazy. And I hate when she comes to my end of the table and picks at my warm cinnamon bun and says, "Mmm, that's yummy."

Rule 5(a) says "Each debate shall last for 90 minutes." If you've been married as long as I, you realize that's just about the right amount of time to spend with your spouse in an average day. The Commission was onto something with this one. Any more time than that, and things can get a little sticky.

The Memorandum states that all communication between candidates is filtered by the moderator. For marriage purposes, the words "child" or "children" should be substituted for the term "moderator."

It's too long-winded to quote directly from the document -- see Rules 5(a) through 6(e) -- but generally speaking, the moderator (child) may ask questions and all answers must be limited to two minutes, with a 90-second rebuttal allowed by the opponent, er, spouse.

Thus, when Child A asks about getting new roller skates, Spouse A can use all of two minutes to fashion an answer that boils down to "Hell, no!" while Spouse B can play the waffling softie and say, "Oh, why not?"

Rule 5(f) disallows any possibility of argument over these matters by stating: "The candidates may not ask each other direct questions, but may ask rhetorical questions."

Perfect! No direct communication. What better way to save a marriage? Then we can just direct all "rhetorical" questioning to the "moderator," something like: "Is there any reason your mother cannot make a hamburger without making it taste like a salted brick?"

Things like that.

Also, Rule 5(k) states that "the candidates shall not address each other with proposed pledges," which means I can finally stop saying, "I think I'll fix that leaky gutter this weekend," when, in fact, I have no intention of fixing that leaky gutter.

Relationships need more honesty and the Memorandum is here to give it to you.

Moving along, Rule 9(a)(ix) says "The Commission shall use best efforts to maintain an appropriate temperature according to industry standards for the entire debate."

The way I see it, this will put an end to the endless game of push and pull that couples perform in terms of the thermostat -- one spouse turning it up every time she walks in the room, the other spouse turning it down when he leaves, and so on, turning into a decades-long game of passive aggression.

I recommend the Commission also adopt a similar rule for lighting so that my house doesn't have to feel like I'm sitting inside an indoor sports stadium once the sun goes down.

Rule 9(b)(i) says "No candidate shall be permitted to use risers or any other device to create an impression of elevated height . . ."

My word! The Commission has figured out in these precious 19 words how to curtail all of our wives' wanton acquisition of designer shoes and boots. This could save thousands! Millions! This is better than a tax cut!

(My interpretation of this article in the Memorandum, however, does not specifically address the issue of push-up bras, so I believe they are still allowable.)

Rule 9(d)(iv) addresses the "town hall" debate this Friday night and states: "Each candidate may move in a pre-designated area . . . and may not leave that area while the debate is underway. The pre-designated areas of the candidates may not overlap."

The "may not overlap" clause is the key here. The way I see it, this means she should stay out of the TV room and the garage and I cede any and all rights of access to her bathroom and walk-in closet.

I can live with this.

Rule 10(c), which addresses the composition of the audience, provides a nifty approach to holiday dinners and pretty much eliminates all those potentially discomfiting encounters with in-laws: "Family members of each candidate shall be seated in the front row, diagonally across from the candidate directly in his line of sight . . ."

That takes care of keeping my drunk Uncle Bert from pawing her dainty Aunt Gertie under the table. Even better, Rule 7(a) says, "There shall be no audience participation in the debate." Hallelujah!

Can you imagine silence over carved turkey? That could darn near put me back in the holiday spirit! Of course, that rule changes for the "town hall" meeting on Friday, but all questions for that event must be submitted to the "moderator" ahead of time and since my "moderators" can't even read, then we're talking about possibly the best Thanksgiving dinner ever.

You can see how the much-maligned Memorandum of Understanding is actually a boon to our society, no? After all, what's more important in a marriage than "understanding?"

Which leads to our final article of faith, the same one that's pretty much ingrained in that other famous document, the Ten (10) Commandments: Rule 1(d) states, unequivocally: "The parties agree that they will not appear at any other debate . . . with any other presidential or vice presidential candidate."

Simple translation here: No screwing around! Marriage saved. 'Til death do us part.