From the Bed of Big Daddy Graham

The tumor is gone, the treatments are over. And there's one person who got me through it

Maybe this blog will get me laid.

I first met my wife at a house party 30 years ago. She was a gorgeous, dark-haired beauty with a killer body and one of the most beautiful, classic faces I had ever seen. Old-school beautiful. Like Liz Taylor or Ava Gardner. With killer eyes, sexy lips, she also had this tremendous positive energy about her. She really lit up the room.

So of course I immediately wanted to get in her pants.

People love to talk about the divorce rate in this country. Like it’s a disgrace how high it is. I think it’s a miracle it’s not WAY HIGHER. Over the years, my wife and I have had to make decisions over credit card payments, where we wanted to live, how many kids we wanted, medical insurance, car insurance, home insurance. We’ve had to put up with each others’ in-laws. On top of this, we have had to live with each other EVERY FUCKING DAY! [SIGNUP]

The reason The Odd Couple has remained such an enduring piece of work is because it proves that, leaving love and lust out of it, it’s virtually impossible to live with someone. When you wake up and your car keys ain’t where they’re supposed to be, you get pissed. When you come home and that half a hoagie you hid behind the gallon a milk isn’t there, you flip out.

So imagine, we not only expect our spouses to get all these countless tiny details right, we also expect them to be sexual dynamos in the bedroom. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE!

Well, maybe not. How lucky was I? How in God’s name could I have known when I said to my buddy Wheels at that party 30 years ago, “Hey, who’s that chick in the black top?” that someday I would get cancer and that very same woman would take care of me every single second of every day for months? That she would handle the countless pills and personally administer me three IV’s a day and keep track of all the appointments and pills and get me back and forth to the hospital and sit beside me hours on end. How could I have known that? All I cared about was how sexy she looked in that black top and how the hell could I get it off?

The entire institution of marriage hangs on the thinnest thread. It’s ridiculous. What led me to that house party? What led her? The trained professionals at Jefferson Hospital who took care of me are just that, TRAINED PROFESSIONALS. My wife was trained at one thing: Loving me. And she said to herself that she had a lot more time to spend with me. More hours on the beach. More arguing. More trips to Manhattan to see shows. More time with our daughters. More time just laying around watching TV and eating pizza. And yes, more time fighting me trying to take that top off.

So the tumor is gone. The treatments are over. I’m getting stronger every day. Yes, the docs at Jefferson were awesome. But without my wife, Debbie, I have no idea what might have happened. So thank god she somehow entered my life and thank god she wore that black top at that party. Love ya, babe.

Maybe this blog will get me laid.