Tag: marriage

Never Saw It Coming


As Jack and I were working on a few final details for our upcoming anniversary on June 8, it occurred to me that I never saw myself in this particular situation…

A week from today, me and Jack will have been married for nine years. In my wildest dreams, I never saw that coming.

I always figured I would end up as either a cougar or a crazy cat lady. Maybe both.

Instead, here I am married for nearly a decade, Amanda (our eldest child) turns 16 on June 7, Debbie turns 14 in August, and our son JJ turned 8 back in April. OK…technically Amanda and Debbie are my adoptive daughters. Anyway, add to that the fact that we left the USA a few years back and moved to Brazil, and as Alice once said, “…curiouser and curiouser…”

So here I am, making plans to celebrate our anniversary. Nothing big, mind you…just a quiet romantic dinner someplace, some dancing, and then we’ll see if we can get thrown out of a hotel for being too noisy.

Too noisy? In Rio?? Right…

In the meantime, the kids (and the cats and the dog) will be more or less home alone with Amanda in charge. I’m good with that…Amanda runs one arm of the “family business” and has proven herself to be a great manager. Jack still worries, though. He claims that Amanda and I must be genetically identical because we pretty much act and think alike. Yes, he has threatened to do DNA analysis. So to make him more at ease, my long-time housekeeper/cook Maria will be keeping a casual eye on the kids as well.

But back to the point…I never saw myself as being married. At least not for much longer than a 3-day weekend in Vegas. Living with someone? Maybe, at least for short spans of time. But actually married? As in life-long commitment? As in picking out sofas? Nope, not me. Love ’em and leave ’em, that was the game for me. Then one day, I got this sort of slap in the face by a dear friend. He basically told me to take a look at the people around me.

And there was Jack.

By then, Jack had been working for me (in charge of security) for several years. His marriage had fallen apart, he had given his ex nearly full custody of the girls, and he kept looking at me with puppy dog eyes. Suddenly, or so it seemed, Jack decided to take charge and get his girls back. Part of that whole deal was that he and the girls ended up as my roommates. I had a huge house at the time and four people could go days without seeing each other. Then, one evening, came that slap in the face…I mentioned to Jack that my friend had suggested that we go out, and Jack’s reaction to that was to ask me out.

I won’t say that I fell in love with Jack on that first date. I think I’d been in love with him for at least a couple of years by then. I just wouldn’t admit it to him or me.

The rest is history…

And here we are, 9 years later…he still gives me shivers when he smiles at me.

Keep Loving!



Permanent link to this article: http://melodeeaaron.com/blog/2016/06/01/never-saw-it-coming/

Life With Melodee — Part Nine

People often ask me the same question:

What is it like to live with Melodee?

That’s a pretty big and deep subject, and there isn’t an easy answer. Like the old saying goes, it’s complicated.

But I’m going to try to tell you a little about what Life With Melodee is like in a series of postings here on Melodee’s blog.

Part Nine
The Music of Melodee

Yes, Melodee has been all over me to add more to this series, so here I am again in front of the keyboard. Not like I have many more important things to do, I guess.

Anyway, Melodee has been in a musical mood lately. Given the fact that she’s totally deaf, that might seem strange to a few people, so let me explain right up front.

I’ve mentioned in a few early posts in this series that Melodee can dance very well. Oh, and I’m not talking about using the pole in our bedroom, though she does a great job there, too. I mean like going to a club and being on the dance floor while a band or DJ plays. She can stay in time, and even sing along if she knows the words. Melodee claims that she can feel the vibrations of the sounds through the air or floor and that means she can “hear” the music. I can’t feel these nebulous vibrations she talks about, but I suspect that being deaf since birth, she’s more aware of them than I can ever hope to be.

Melodee has a set of what I’ll call Bone-Phones. I think that was an actual brand name from a number of years ago, but the idea is that they are kind of like headphones that lay over her shoulders and rest on her upper chest. The idea is that instead of covering your ears, the Bone-Phones transmit vibrations directly to your body. When I put them on, I can feel the vibrations though I still can’t make a lot of sense from the sensation.

Not so with Melodee. She puts on the Bone-Phones, cranks the volume way up, and sings along with her favorite songs.

And speaking of favorite songs…

I guess everyone has a favorite song and even a favorite performer. For Melodee, that’s the Moody Blues. I’m not sure if from the repertoire of the band there is one song she would call her favorite, though…she seems to like all of their songs equally. And that’s a big deal. The career of the Moody Blues spans nearly fifty years now, and they are still on tour.

As an aside, I rarely get jealous over Melodee despite her flirtatious nature. By and large, I feel very secure in the fact that she’s not at all serious and is coming home with me. Except that is, with the Moody Blues. Yes, she gets a little giddy around Graeme Edge (the 72 year old drummer), and a little more so with John Lodge (the bass guitarist who is 68), but it’s Justin Hayward (66, lead guitar, vocalist, and front man) who actually worries me. I have no doubt that all Justin would need to do is smile and nod to Melodee and she would be all over him. While he’s clearly in great physical shape to do multi-hour concerts and maintain the show schedule for the band’s tours, I wonder if his heart could take it. I sometimes wonder about my own heart, too.

In any event, for the past few days, Melodee has been on a writing binge. When she writes, she “listens” to music. She puts on her Bone-Phones, cranks them up all of the way, and also puts the music through to the speakers in her office. Despite the well designed soundproofing, the kids, staff, and I can hear the music all over the house. As you might suspect, with her affinity to the Moody Blues, Melodee is a classic rock fan. Her playlist for the MP3 files leans heavily in that direction and is probably half Moody Blues tunes, with multiple versions of the same songs. Also in the mix are a good deal of show tunes (she loves anything by Andrew Lloyd Weber) and some older country music. There are more eclectic things in the mix, too. I imagine that if she could hear the radio in the car, Melodee would be one of those people who change the station at the end of every song.

But she claims that the music helps her write. I’ve watched her (I do that a lot) and she will sit staring at the screen as she types, and her lips are moving as the music plays. And before someone asks, no, Melodee does not have a good singing voice.

Like most profoundly deaf people, Melodee has what we hearing folks would call a speech impediment. She can’t hear her own voice, so she doesn’t know what it sounds like. By the same token, she tends to mispronounce words, at least by “normal” standards, because she has never heard them spoken by someone else. While she can indeed keep tempo and sing along with the lyrics, Melodee shouldn’t consider making a living as a lead singer.

I often wonder if Melodee’s love of music is at least partially responsible for a similar passion in our oldest daughter Amanda. Amanda can, as far as I can tell, play just about any instrument, but her real love is for the guitar. At last count, she has about twenty different guitars, and they all sound different, even to me. Melodee has a number of Amanda’s “demo tracks” in her playlist, too, and she will often ask Amanda to play something special for her.

One thing I did a few years ago for our anniversary was to get with Amanda to teach me to play just one song on a simple acoustic guitar. After some eight weeks of practice and dealing with bleeding fingers, I was ready. Amanda set up her music “studio” and hooked in Melodee’s Bone-Phones and twisted the volume hard to the right so Melodee could “hear” the performance. All I did was to play the rhythm part and Amanda played the lead, but I played and even sang In Your Wildest Dreams for Melodee.

She cried for a week.

I just hope she was crying because she was so touched by the act and not because my singing and playing was so bad.


Permanent link to this article: http://melodeeaaron.com/blog/2013/08/05/life-with-melodee-part-nine-2/

Life With Melodee — Part 7

People often ask me the same question:

What is it like to live with Melodee?

That’s a pretty big and deep subject, and there isn’t an easy answer. Like the old saying goes, it’s complicated.

But I’m going to try to tell you a little about what Life With Melodee is like in a series of postings here on Melodee’s blog.

Part Seven
A Dichotomy

1.    A division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different.

In many, many ways, that fits Melodee. A few examples follow.

Graceful – Melodee can move with a grace and flow that looks a little like oil spreading across water. Most men, myself included, are amazed that a woman can walk in a long evening gown. Add 4” heels to that, and we are dumbfounded. Melodee can look like she’s floating when she does it. Think about this: Ginger Rogers did all the same moves as Fred Astaire, but she did them in a long gown, high heels, and going backwards. You see my point. Melodee skydives and I have watched her. In free fall, she looks like a bird, probably a bird of prey, soaring and swooping with motions not unlike those of a ballet. When she lands, I have never seen her fail to plant her feet firmly and remain standing. In my time in Special Ops, I did more than my fair share of jumping out of perfectly good airplanes, and I didn’t do that every time I landed. I have seen people around Melodee drop things, and she will frequently catch the item in midair. She will just smile and say, “Reflexes like a cat.”

Klutzy – Sometimes the best description I have for Melodee’s motions is that they remind me of watching a bird. You’ve seen birds flit and flutter around, darting from one place to another with fast, jerky movements. That’s Melodee. She will often bump things with her arms or hips. She’s well known for turning suddenly and running into the person walking behind her, or even into walls. She stumbles a lot over things that most people would just step over. A while back, Melodee broke her ankle. She was wearing 5” heels and she knows that I like the way the heels make her legs and butt look, so she was walking just a little sexier than she normally does. Melodee will tell you that she stepped on a rock and that twisted her ankle, but I was walking right next to her, close enough that I didn’t have to move to catch her when she started to fall, and I didn’t see any rocks on the sidewalk at all. Truth is, she was preoccupied with prancing and tripped over her own feet.

Intelligent – Melodee has five doctorate degrees: Physics (Theoretical), Math (Theoretical), English (Literature), Electrical Engineering, and Mechanical Engineering. While having an education does not make a person intelligent, you can’t be dumb and do that. She talks about things sometimes that I can’t even spell. After all, I’m just a dumb swabby. I’ve seen her sit with top scientists and keep up with them. She helps the kids with their calculus homework…in her head. Melodee usually knows what I am going to say about two weeks before I do. And she does that to everyone. I used to wonder if she might be psychic, but I know now that’s not the case at all. Melodee is so bright that she is always running the odds of events happening in her head, and she can predict just how likely something is to happen with good accuracy. I’m not sure that she even knows that she does that. Honestly, it’s a little scary.

Ditzy – Melodee sometimes gets that deer in the headlights look. When she does, it’s clear that she has no clue about what’s going on around her. In the middle of a conversation, you’ll look at her, and you know she’s totally lost. I’ve had a number of theories about what was happening with that over the years. One was that she was playing the “Dumb Blond” part for some reason. Another was that she really just wasn’t getting it. For a time, I thought that maybe her deafness was causing her to miss a turn. But I’ve come to believe that Melodee will drift off in her mind to some other topic and just simply loses track of the conversation. She’s not really ignoring you…she just had some thought that grabbed her attention away.

Conservative – Politically, Melodee is about two steps to the right of Rush Limbaugh…maybe more. She believes in a small, limited government, particularly the federal government, and she believes in little, if any, taxation to support that government. She favors a strong defense and military, and firmly believes that the best defense is a strong offense. Her idea of diplomacy is something like, “…if you don’t straighten up and fly right, we’ll nuke you back to the Stone Age.” She has precious little patience for tyrants, dictators, liberals, socialists, and deficit spending.

Liberal – Melodee also hates a number of traditionally conservative positions. For example, she supports same-sex marriage, but in a round-about way: Melodee believes that government has nothing to do with marriage and that marriage is a function of the churches. If a couple wants to be married, that is up to a church. And add to that the idea that any group of two or more people should be able to enter into a contract that gives the group the rights and privileges that are now associated with a “legal” marriage. In other words, not only does Melodee support same-sex marriage, she also supports polyamory and multiple marriages.

I’d better stop here. I have to sleep with Melodee.

Or not!


Permanent link to this article: http://melodeeaaron.com/blog/2012/02/06/life-with-melodee-part-7/

Life With Melodee — Part 6

People often ask me the same question:

What is it like to live with Melodee?

That’s a pretty big and deep subject, and there isn’t an easy answer. Like the old saying goes, it’s complicated.

But I’m going to try to tell you a little about what Life With Melodee is like in a series of postings here on Melodee’s blog.

Part Six
The Girls

I’ve spent a good deal of time in this series talking about Melodee and my daughters, Amanda and Debbie. This time, I’m going to talk almost exclusively about the three in general and specifically about how they interact in ways that have changed my life.

Mostly for the better.

I’ve already said that Melodee, Debbie, and Amanda all sort of took to each other from the very start. This is especially true for Melodee and Amanda. It’s sometimes hard to believe that they aren’t actually from the same gene pool, and they are so much alike that it scares me sometimes. This is especially true when you understand that Amanda is not quite 12 right now, and she’s already acting enough like Melodee to make me nervous. At any rate…

I really don’t know exactly when it happened, but at some point, I started to call the three women in my life “The Girls”. I have to admit that I stole the term from some of Melodee’s books. Those of you familiar with her Immortal Love Universe will know that the Emperor (Jim) refers to his four wives (Marilyn, Janelle, Tanya, and Paige) as The Girls. And yeah, The Girls is always capitalized.

The Girls all love to shop. Maybe it would be more accurate to say that they live to shop. I knew before Melodee and I became a couple that she was a shop-o-holic, and Debbie and Amanda soon followed suit. It still fascinates me, though, that many of the shopping trips The Girls take don’t actually involve buying anything. They all seem happy to just look, try on new outfits, and go through every pair of shoes and every purse in the stores. Except for the jewelry stores.

When Melodee and I got together, Amanda had her ears pierced. That was it. Now, Debbie has 3 piercings in her ears and Amanda has 5. That’s nothing compared to Melodee’s 7 in her ears and a few, well, extras. Amanda has even asked about getting her tongue pierced. The answer was no. I would guess that between my two daughters, they had maybe a total of a dozen rings, necklaces, bracelets, and other jewelry items. Now they probably have 100 or more pieces. Each. But even at Tiffany’s, they all tend to look at a lot more stuff than they buy. Thank God for small favors.

And then there is the food and drink thing. There was a time that the only thing Amanda and Debbie would drink was Coke or Pepsi. I at least weaned them over to diet. On the other hand, Melodee rarely drinks anything other than tea (both iced and hot). Amanda and Debbie absolutely hated tea in any form. Now, The Girls go through more tea than the entire English Navy and Army combined. Amanda and Debbie turn their noses up at soda. The good news is that The Girls have all transitioned over to decaffeinated tea.

As for food, Melodee has, as far as I know, always hated fish and seafood of any kind. It’s funny, but she will eat tuna salad now and then. Amanda and Debbie like fish and seafood. We often go, as a family, to a little diner down the road a couple of miles, and they have nightly specials. On Friday, as is tradition, they have a “Seafood Trio” that consists of shrimp scampi, a hunk of grilled salmon, and a couple of cod fillets. They also have the “Fish Fry” that is three of the cod fillets with slaw and French fries. Melodee has taken to ordering the Fish Fry and she actually likes it. Sometimes, she will steal a few bites of the salmon from Debbie or Amanda. She hasn’t worked up to the shrimp yet.

Someplace down the line, the dress code also changed. Melodee used to have exactly three modes of dress: (1) Jeans and Tee Shirt, (2) Formal Wear, and (3) Super Sexy. Since becoming a mom to a pair of prepubescent girls, Melodee has only changed her style of dress a little. In most ways, she has simply combined #1 and #3 above. She has also added a fourth group that I like to call “Casual Mom”. This style usually consists of The Girls all dressing alike. And that worries me sometimes.

Melodee has a closet full of what she calls her Little Black Dresses, or simply LBD. Now, Amanda and Debbie also have several versions of LBDs. The three also have several other matching outfits. While Debbie is still very much a little girl (she’s only 9 now), Amanda is becoming a young woman. Yeah, I hate that. And while Amanda will not likely be as tall as Melodee, it’s getting easier every day to get them confused.

A lot of the above are things that I admit to having some mixed emotions about. I sometimes wonder if our daughters are growing up too fast, but that is probably just me wanting them to be little girls forever. After all, that whole boy and dating thing really bugs me. But there is one area that is absolutely positive, and that is the fact that both Amanda and Debbie have good ideas of what they want to do with their lives now.

Debbie has always been interested in life science and biology. She loves all that stuff, even if I don’t understand any of it. She’s still undecided on exactly what specific area she wants to go into, but she’s floating someplace between medicine for people and medicine for animals. In other words, she can’t pick just now between being an MD or a DVM. Either would be great as far as I’m concerned.

Amanda on the other hand is also floating between two careers, but maybe not as desirable in the eyes of some parents. She loves the guitar and music in general. Some days, I think she’s decided on becoming a rocker. But, like Melodee, Amanda loves to write and tell stories. I have this feeling that when all is said and done, Amanda will do both and be a songwriter. Maybe a little like Jim Croche or Tom T. Hall telling stories with her songs. As for me, I’m good with that. I think either or both would be good for her. Again I admit that I really don’t care to watch Amanda doing some of the same moves as Nancy Wilson while she plays the guitar.

And that brings me to the real bottom line of all of this.

Melodee has been a great and positive influence on my daughters. No, let me correct that…Amanda and Debbie are OUR daughters. Melodee is teaching them the things that a young woman needs to know. I mean things like respecting and loving themselves, how to pick a good man while avoiding the bad ones, and how to care about other people. Most importantly, Melodee is teaching them that there is nothing they can’t do if they want it and are willing to work hard to get it.

And all three of The Girls are learning how to love from each other.



Permanent link to this article: http://melodeeaaron.com/blog/2012/02/03/life-with-melodee-part-6/

Life With Melodee — Part 5

People often ask me the same question:

What is it like to live with Melodee?

That’s a pretty big and deep subject, and there isn’t an easy answer. Like the old saying goes, it’s complicated.

But I’m going to try to tell you a little about what Life With Melodee is like in a series of postings here on Melodee’s blog.

Part Five
The Countdown

In Part 3, the installment before my Random Recollections in Part 4, I talked a little about the first “date” Melodee and I shared. This time, I want to tell you about the months following that night.

We went out a few more times, usually to the Viejas complex. In addition to the casino and all the things there, the tribe also runs an outlet mall across the street. Melodee is a shop-o-holic, and she loves the place. There are a ton of shops for clothes, shoes, jewelry, and more. Neither Melodee nor I gamble much, so a typical trip was eating at one of the restaurants in the casino, or one of the fast food joints at the mall, and then going shopping. We often took the girls along, and they were becoming as much of a shopping junkie as Melodee. Interestingly enough, most of the shopping trips didn’t include actually buying anything. It seemed that the girls were all happy to just wander around the mall and shops. Other than the place that sells the most wonderful fudge I have ever tasted. We always bought something there.

Other times, it would be just me and Melodee. Sometimes, we would go further down the mountain to Alpine or even to the city itself, and would have dinner someplace, maybe going to a nightclub for some drinks and dancing after. In general, I was having a great time just being with Melodee. More than six weeks had passed since that first “date”, and we still hadn’t had sex. The funny part is that the fact not only didn’t bother me, but it seemed somehow, well, natural.

It was on one of those nights that we left the girls with Maria and came down to the city that Melodee went into one of her Blunt Modes. Melodee will, as I said back in Part 4, pretty much say what is on her mind. I had taken to calling these her Blunt Modes. I thought nothing she could say would shock me. I should have known better.

Melodee had a taste for Outback that night, so we went to the one on Lake Murray in La Mesa. We were sitting on the patio so I could smoke my pipe, and the food was, as always, good. We were sharing a Chocolate Thunder From Down Under when Melodee sat down her spoon and frowned. Usually Melodee uses sign almost exclusively. As I said way back in Part 1, Melodee has a bit of a speech impediment and prefers to sign most of the time.

But this time, she spoke out loud. “Jack, why haven’t you tried to get in my pants?”

As I coughed, I swear a bit of chocolate chip came out of my nose. “What?”

She shrugged a little. “Well, we’ve been going out for more than a month and a half, and I’ve dropped every hint I know how, but you don’t seem in any hurry to fuck me.”

I don’t want to give the impression here that I’m some kind of super-sensitive guy, because I’m not. All I could do was tell Melodee how I felt. “I guess that’s not as important to me as just being with you.”

“Oh.” She was still frowning, but a smile slowly came to her face. “Well, just know that you wouldn’t have to try very hard.”

Melodee has this entire repertoire of smiles. I’ve mentioned the one that’s kind of like dawn charging over the mountain. She has one that’s a little shy, almost like a little girl. Then she has the one she used on that night, so full of passion and fire that it could melt a hole through two-feet of steel from a mile away. That smile can grab the attention of any man at any time, and could probably leave him a gibbering idiot if Melodee decided to do that.

It was all I could do to pull my eyes from her mouth and look at her eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She winked at me. “Good.”

When we finished eating, we decided to go to a nightclub not far from the Outback for a couple of drinks and some dancing. On the way there, Melodee sat next to me and kept licking my ear. I think I only ran one stop light. Almost as soon as we had found a table and had our drinks, she pulled me to the dance floor. Even on the fast dances, Melodee was moving in delightful ways, flexing and writhing her body to the beat. When we danced close, her in my arms against my chest, Melodee still moved, rubbing against me and running her hands up and down my back.

At some point, I’d learned that Melodee could understand me if I used my fingers to make signs against her body, and I had also some skill at reading her doing the same. I signed on her back, “Hey, are you trying to seduce me?”

She signed back, “That depends on how hard I have to work at it.”

I chuckled a little, but it sounded nervous even to me. “What do you think?”

“Based on other hard things, not very.” It was true. Between the looks she gave me and all the touching and rubbing, I had an erection, and I knew Melodee could feel it as we danced. She leaned back from my chest and looked up into my eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

Way back on that first date, the idea that the kids were in the house didn’t bother me too much. Then again, we didn’t do a damned thing that night. Now, for some reason, the fact that my two daughters would be asleep in their rooms down the hall troubled me. Not enough yet to stop us from getting out of the nightclub, mind you. We went out to the truck, and Melodee snuggled up to me, putting on the center belt. As we pulled out of the lot and onto the street, she put her hand on my chest and signed, “Call Maria and have her take the girls to her place.” Yeah, Melodee was thinking clearly enough to solve that problem.

No, I’m not going to go into all of the details about the rest of the night. It’s Melodee’s bit to write the erotica and such, not mine. All I’ll say is that we got home about 10:30 and didn’t leave her bedroom until after noon the next day, and that I had trouble walking for two days and couldn’t concentrate for several more.

The next day, we decided to talk to the girls. It turned out that they were far more up to speed than we thought, maybe even more than we were. Amanda, the oldest, told us that she knew we were a couple and that we would be spending “a lot of time together”. God, I hope she doesn’t know what that really means! In short, the girls were okay with us being together.

More later.



Permanent link to this article: http://melodeeaaron.com/blog/2012/01/30/life-with-melodee-part-5/

Life With Melodee – Part 4

People often ask me the same question:

What is it like to live with Melodee?

That’s a pretty big and deep subject, and there isn’t an easy answer. Like the old saying goes, it’s complicated.

But I’m going to try to tell you a little about what Life With Melodee is like in a series of postings here on Melodee’s blog.

Part Four
Random Recollections

As I sat here planning what to write about next, it dawned on me that I have left out a lot of strange things that happened over the years between when I met Melodee and when we admitted that we were in free fall for each other. In an effort to correct this, I offer the following random comments and thoughts.

June Cleaver She Ain’t

Not even close. In fact, Melodee is a horrible housekeeper, and a worse cook. I don’t think Melodee even knows why she is so bad at these domestic activities, so she usually just says that she never learned how to do them. But let’s be honest here…using a broom, putting an empty glass in the sink, doing the dishes, and even running a vacuum aren’t really skills that have a steep learning curve. Even cooking isn’t all that tough if you can read (and Melodee can read very well, even if at blinding speed that makes me dizzy to watch her flip the pages) and follow directions. I think that cooking and cleaning offer nothing to hold her attention. She would rather do something interesting, and since she has no inhibitions of any kind, Melodee pretty much does what she wants to do when she wants to do it. Maria (Melodee’s long-time housekeeper and cook) forbids Melodee from even going in the kitchen unsupervised. Yes, she has nearly burned the house down more than once. The girl could screw up Cup-O-Soup!

Speaking Of Inhibitions

Melodee has none. Not a one. And I am not just talking about sexual inhibitions here. She will say anything that is on her mind to anyone. Just as one example, I saw her tell a now former President of the United States that he was a “dumb-fuck” and that he should “grow a pair of balls or put on a dress”. And this was at a White House reception with maybe 2000 of our closest friends around. On the sexual side, she can be a little hard to swallow sometimes, no pun intended. When “in the mood”, she will do just about any thing in just about any place. She has gotten us tossed out of a few of those places. Take the time that she used liquid latex to paint on her “clothes”. She was totally nude, except for her shoes, and had painted on a shirt and pair of jeans. She strolled right through the lobby of a major hotel and into the bar like she owned the place. And then there is her habit of playing “dress-up” on a regular basis. She likes the schoolgirl look. And the nurse. And the policewoman. But I think her favorite is to dress up like a cat. Sometimes Melodee likes the big cats, particularly tigers and cheetahs. Other times, she goes for the house cat look. And it can get a lot more, well, complicated. Not that I’m complaining.

Gun Play

Melodee grew up in the country, and like most country folks, she knows how to hunt and how to handle a firearm. She’s a fair shot with a rifle, and she won’t kill herself with a handgun…probably. At one point, I decided that, for security reasons, Melodee needed to be armed. She explained to me that she would not carry a gun. She gave up hunting long ago, and didn’t want to have a gun in her purse. I can, and did, respect that, so I convinced her to carry a can of pepper spray. She put it on her key ring and had it in her purse. One evening, a bunch of us from the company were having a dinner meeting at Melodee’s house, and she decided she needed some gum. She walked to the side table where she had tossed her purse when we came home earlier that day, and reached inside. After a moment of fumbling around, the pepper spray went off. I still don’t know how it happened, but it did, and she effectively maced everyone in the room. I decided that maybe the pepper spray wasn’t as good of an idea as I had thought, so I got her a stun-gun. Again, it went in her purse. For those men smart enough to avoid a woman’s purse, you can’t believe the amount of stuff in there. Most of it we men prefer not to imagine. We were at a book signing in Chicago and Melodee reached into her purse for something. Next thing I knew, she was on the floor flopping around like a fish out of water. Somehow, she had armed and triggered the stun gun with one hand in her purse. After that, I carry the weapons and just stay close to Melodee.

Economic Stimulus

Melodee is a shop-a-holic. I think she even has a union card to prove it. She has a particular addiction to high-end jewelry. The staff at Tiffany’s knows her by name and on sight. And I mean the shop in New York. She spends a lot of money on clothes and shoes as well as jewelry. For a long time, I wondered about the clothes and shoes part, but I found out what was going on after we were married. She buys a lot more clothes and shoes than she has in her closets. At the rate she shops, she would fill the house up in a matter of months, and I never saw any Goodwill or Salvation Army trucks around the place. It turns out that she donates most of the “excess” to a local charity. Some they sell, some they give to women to wear to job interviews or to work. The transactions are very low profile. The real downside is that both of our daughters are catching the shopping addiction from their mom now.

Attention Junkie and Pusher

Melodee likes to be the center of attention. See above for more. I think that a huge part of her lack of inhibitions goes right back to this fact. By being flirtatious, outspoken, and all the rest, she gets the attention that she craves. But it’s a two-way street with her when it comes to attention. I shower a lot of attention on Melodee, and I’ll even admit that I spoil her. Usually not with “things”, because she’s pretty well got all of that, but with a touch or a word. I mentioned in Part 3 that I had, without thinking, picked a little wildflower for her, and she sort of melted. Well, I still pick flowers for Melodee. Mostly for exercise, I walk the perimeter of our property every day. That’s about 4 miles. Along the way, pretty much all year round, I can find a few little wildflowers to pick and bring home for her. She loves the attention, but she gives it back to me. Melodee is my second wife, though I really believe that she is my first true love. But that doesn’t mean that I haven’t dated in the past. I have never had a woman as in-tune with my mood and needs as Melodee is. I don’t know what a “soul mate” is, but maybe being so connected is part of that, but I think it’s also possible that the giving is just a part of Melodee. It’s who she is.


Melodee has a good deal of baggage. I won’t go into the details of her childhood other than to say that through a rather nasty chain of events, she was addicted to drugs at a very young age. This addiction has, as it does with all addicts, stayed with her for all these many years. Over all, I think she’s done well for herself despite being in various states of recovery since her pre-teen years and being deaf. There was even a period when she worked as a hooker to pay for her fixes. Since I have known Melodee, she has had one relapse to the drugs, and I mentioned that in an earlier part of this series. But, since we have been “together”, she has stayed clean and says she has no desire to use again. I believe her.

Hell Hath No Fury

Some people who know Melodee only casually have the opinion that she angers easily. The reality is that she is more of a “slow boil” person. She will sit and stew until she finally has had enough, then she blows up. The reason for the confusion, at least as I see it, is because Melodee is so outspoken. She will tell you (or anyone else) exactly how she feels, and she lacks anything even close to tact. If she thinks an idea is stupid, she will say so, usually in close to those words with a few of the infamous deleted expletives tossed in. If a person keeps harping about something that Melodee has already identified as a stupid idea, she will, usually, tell them to just shut the fuck up and go the fuck away. Her harsh words and course manner can easily be seen by some people as being angry. I get that. But those people have never seen Melodee really angry. I have. Several times. Maybe Melodee is atypical, because she doesn’t get angry like most women I have known over the years. She doesn’t cry or get sullen. Melodee doesn’t throw things. When I think about it, Melodee’s anger is more like that I have seen from many men. Melodee yells, cusses like a sailor (actually, I am a sailor, and she uses words I never would in public!), and she will punch someone if they are too close. She paces a lot, too. I have never seen her hit a wall or other immovable object, but I think she just might under the right conditions. Trust me…you do not want to be on the wrong side of her anger.

The Inner Mommy

Shortly after we were married, Melodee legally adopted my two daughters, Amanda and Debbie. The girls already loved her as “Aunt Melodee” and the transition to “Mom” or “Mommy” was easy for all three of them. On April 26, 2008 Melodee gave birth to our son, Jack, Jr., or JJ. There were some concerns, mostly by Melodee, that JJ might be born deaf as she was, but everything is just fine with him. Interestingly, he learned to sign before he learned to speak. Now, he does both, and the simple truth is that he is much better at sign than either the girls or I. He is the only one in the house who can keep up with Melodee when she is signing at top speed. Well, other than our dog Tripper. He’s really good at sign, too. I know the trip of being a Mommy hasn’t been easy for Melodee. She will sometimes fret about never hearing JJ cry and missing his first words. She gets equally down because she can’t hear the girls call her “Mom” or tell her that they love her. But she manages. A good friend and colleague of ours is a ham radio operator, and he’s a wizard with electronics and radio, and he put together a little system using old pagers. The kids and I all have a little box with a button on it that we can press. That sends a signal to a pager that Melodee carries, and it vibrates to alert her, and the display tells her who is calling for her. JJ was able to use his to call his Mommy by the time he was a year old. There is an old saying that I heard once that any woman with normal biology can be a mother, but it takes someone special to be a Mommy. Melodee is a great Mommy.

Fantasy Island

I guess this mostly for the men reading, and that’s alright. I know I’ll catch hell from the women reading, but I always had the opinion that men had a larger sexual appetite than women. I don’t know if that’s valid opinion or not, and it doesn’t matter. In my experience, I was always the one who was ready to have sex anytime, anyplace. I had to talk my woman into the idea. Well, I learned something about Melodee very early, even before we were “together”, and that is that she has a healthy and strong sex drive. She enjoys sex, is creative, and very open. Once we started really “dating”, I thought that was wonderful and that, maybe, I had died and gone to heaven. A bit later, I found out that there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. Simple biology is that men are not multi-orgasmic, at least not in the long term. And then there is Melodee’s “30 Second Rule”. One day she bet me that she could take me from nothing to climax in under 30 seconds. I admit that I don’t have the staying power of a porn star, but 30 seconds seemed a little fast to me, so I took the bet. Nothing happened the rest of the day, just normal routine things around the house. About 6pm, Maria took the kids to her place for the evening to watch some TV and play some games. About 6:30pm, Melodee pretty well jumped me on the couch. The bad news is that I lost the bet. The good news is that the loser had to get on top for the rest of the session. Melodee’s philosophy on sex seems to be that she’ll try anything once, twice if she likes it. I haven’t found anything that she has done only once.

Well, that’s about all I have for now.


Permanent link to this article: http://melodeeaaron.com/blog/2012/01/29/life-with-melodee-part-4/

Life With Melodee — Part 3

People often ask me the same question:

What is it like to live with Melodee?

That’s a pretty big and deep subject, and there isn’t an easy answer. Like the old saying goes, it’s complicated.

But I’m going to try to tell you a little about what Life With Melodee is like in a series of postings here on Melodee’s blog.

Part Three
The Flames

This time, I’m going to talk a bit about the things that led up to Melodee and me falling in love. No, that’s not really correct, because I think we’d been in love for a long time before we admitted it to ourselves and each other.

As I said before, my two daughters and I were living at Melodee’s house, and everything was working out well. Melodee’s housekeeper, Maria, would watch the girls when I had to leave town with Melodee on trips, and if I had to go someplace alone, Aunt Melodee would take care of them. The girls learned sign language, both the standard ASL and Melodee’s own special version, much faster than I did. I chalk it up to them being kids and so information sponges.

Melodee was still dating other people, and it was still making me nuts sometimes. Yes, I was still rationalizing my irritation as being concerned about her safety. Yes, I still knew it was bullshit.

It was about that time that I noticed a change in Melodee. She stopped dating and became more withdrawn. She spent long hours talking with a man on the Internet in chat rooms and via email. I wondered what was going on, but she would deny that anything was wrong. I found out that the man she was in contact with was doing a tour of duty in Iraq, and then things got really weird. Melodee started asking me if I knew of anyone who could get her to Iraq to meet him. I tried to impress on her how dangerous that would be for her, but she wasn’t interested in any of that. She wanted to go.

I didn’t mention that the man was also married. Any of you who know much about the military will see the problem here. For a married officer, having an affair can end a career. Whether it was that fact or just that the man really is an officer and gentleman, he talked Melodee out of the bad idea of going to downtown Baghdad for vacation.

Personally, I think it was the latter that motivated him.

Just days after this all happened, we had a tour on the US east coast. Melodee hates to tour, but she went anyway, and she became more and more isolated. She snapped at everyone, and even walked out of an appearance. Somehow, she got past the security people and pretty well vanished for several hours.

I had gone back to the hotel to see if she was there, and was just about to call the local police when she walked into the room like she owned the place. And it was clear from the instant she walked in that she was so stoned that she could barely walk.

I’ve mentioned that Melodee has a history of drug abuse, but she had been on the wagon for about 4 years. When she fell off, she fell off hard. At the risk of getting an assault charge, I shook her down and found a rather large supply of drugs and the related paraphernalia. I also found the name and phone number of the pusher who fixed her up.

I doubt they will ever find him.

To make a long story short, we got her home, cleaned up, and back on her feet.

Melodee continued her contact with the man in Iraq, but he made it clear to her that he wasn’t going to leave his wife. You have to keep in mind that Melodee is used to getting what she wants. Call her spoiled if you like, but she was not a happy camper about that. She went off on him, and later, after she effectively hung up the Internet on him, she went off on me. And all I was doing was having a glass of milk before bed.

I had learned a long time before this night that the worst thing I could do when Melodee was in a mood like she was in was to actually say anything. So I just listened as she ranted. Actually, I watched, mostly. She was so mad that she couldn’t speak, so she used sign. At one point she said that the man had told her that she needed to find a good man who was available, and suggested that she go out with me.

I almost choked on my milk, at least at first. I had pretty well worked up my nerve to ask her out before she started her online dating affair, but then backed away. So, I decided in an instant that it was now or never.

I shrugged my shoulders and said, “So, would you go out with me?”

Melodee stopped pacing and stared at me for a moment before she signed, “What? Like on a date?”

I shrugged again. “No, not really a date. Just go out for a couple of drinks and dinner and maybe some dancing. You know…nothing about business, just friends out for a good time.”

She laughed. “Oh, like fuck buddies?”

I actually did spray milk out of my nose. “No! Just friends.” I’ll admit to more than a few fantasies about her.

It was her turn to shrug. “Sure, why not?”

We decided to go to the local tribal casino at Viejas the next evening.

We more or less avoided each other all the next day. I really don’t know if that was intentional or not, but Melodee and I didn’t see much of each other until it was time to leave at about 6pm. Maria told me that Melodee would be out in a minute, so I went to get the car. Truck, actually. A Ford F-250 with a crew cab. Melodee likes trucks. I pulled the truck up in front of the house and was about halfway up the steps when Melodee came through the door.

Before I go on, I want you to remember that I had been living in Melodee’s house for more than a year and working for her for more than 4 years. I’d seen her in everything from jeans and a tee shirt to evening gowns that cost more than the GDP of some countries. I’d seen her in swimsuits that weren’t much more than a few square inches of lace and some string to baggy sweatshirts and footy pajamas. And she has the habit of running around the house after she showers in nothing but a towel. I already knew that, somehow, Melodee made them all look good. Maybe I’m biased on that part.

She was wearing a yellow skirt that was far enough above her knees and tight enough that I couldn’t help wondering how she could walk in it. Added to the skirt was a black top that left like a mile of her waist exposed. She had her hair down to its full length just past the middle of her back, and she had added shoes that had at least 4-inch heels. Melodee is tall. She claims she’s 5’9″, but she’s closer to 5’10”. I know because I’m 6’9″ and the top of her head was level with my eyes. Not that I was looking at the top of her head.

I can remember that the only thing I could come up with to say was, “Hi.”

She smiled that dawn-breaking smile of hers and said, “Not tonight.”

We got in the truck and drove the 10 or so miles to the casino. I couldn’t even speak and I was afraid to look over at her for fear of wrecking the truck. As we walked through the casino to the restaurant, every man we passed stared at her. No, it didn’t bother me, but I still don’t know why. All I knew at the time was that I didn’t blame them.

After dinner, we went over to the nightclub in the casino, and we had a few drinks. Between the wine with dinner and the drinks at the bar, I was at least able to talk to her. Until then, I don’t think I had said more than a dozen words. I managed something like, “You look nice tonight.”

She smiled. “Thanks. I hoped you’d like it.”

“Yeah, I do.” I needed another drink. Or ten.

She laughed and flipped her hair over her shoulder. I recall wishing she hadn’t done that, because my mind sort of kicked into neutral then. “Are you going to ask me to dance or what?”

I honestly still don’t know how Melodee can dance. She’s totally deaf, but she keeps in time with the music somehow. She says she can feel the vibrations, but I don’t know. Maybe she’s in better tune to that than I am, but I can’t feel anything. But I asked her to dance, and we went to the dance floor. The band played two fairly fast songs, and we danced to them, only holding hands most of the time. Then, the band shifted gears to a slow dance. I decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and headed for the table, but Melodee grabbed my hand. She frowned and signed, “Where are you going?” Without waiting for an answer, she moved into my arms and wrapped hers around my neck. By now, my brain couldn’t find any gear, not even neutral, so I just followed her lead.

I had danced with Melodee before at various business gatherings. I often went to such events with her as her “date”, but I was actually her bodyguard. The fact was that this was different. Those past events were, well, business. This was pleasure. Before, I was focused on the crowd, watching the people there. Now, I was focused on Melodee.

As the song played (it was “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” originally by Aerosmith. Yes, I remember that.), it felt right somehow. Melodee rested her head on my shoulder, and she did something that, at the time, I couldn’t follow at all. As we danced, she pulled her right hand from around my neck and rested it on my chest, and was signing with her fingers. I couldn’t understand her, though, and I told her so. She just smiled and put her arm back around my neck.

After the song ended, we went back to the table, and sat down. I had my hands on the table in front of me, and she reached over and took them in her left hand so she could sign with her right. “I was trying to tell you two things out there. First, thanks for bringing me here tonight.”

I guess my brain was working a little better. “No, thank you for coming with me.”

Melodee smiled. “And it felt really good dancing with you.”

“I could say the same.”

She laughed. About then, the waitress came around, and Melodee changed from the mixed drink she had to iced tea, and I followed suit. I realized that I didn’t need booze to build up my nerve. I just needed to relax. Melodee wouldn’t bite me, at least not unless I wanted her to.

We talked and drank tea for a long time, sometimes taking a break to dance a little. As the night wore on, I think we both relaxed a lot and became more comfortable with each other. We also spent a lot of time just staring at each other. I won’t even try to guess what Melodee’s thoughts were, but mine were that maybe this attraction I’d felt for her for so long was something more than simple attraction.

It was after 1am when we decided to head home. As we waited for the valet to bring the truck around, Melodee held on to my arm and rested her head on my shoulder, and it felt great. As we pulled out of the casino, Melodee told me to take “the other” way home.

There are 2 ways to get between where Melodee lives and the casino. The fast way is to take Interstate 8 from the East Willows Road overpass to Highway 79. The “other way” is a dirt road called Viejas Grade Road up the mountain and through Descanso. So, I turned and made my way through the reservation and started up the grade.

It was a clear and moonless night, and there were at least a million stars in the sky. I’d known for a long time that Melodee loves the night sky, and it didn’t surprise me at all when, about halfway up the hill, she asked me to pull over so she could look at the stars. I pulled over on a wide spot and shut off the truck and the lights, and we stepped outside. Melodee fumbled in her purse and pulled out a little LED flashlight with a red lens, and we walked to the back of the truck and I let down the tailgate and spread a blanket on the bare steel. I lifted her up to sit on the blanket, and without thinking, I leaned over and picked a freeway daisy from the side of the road and handed it to her.

In the red light, I saw her face get a funny look, like she couldn’t believe that I was giving her a flower that didn’t come from a florist. For a moment, I thought that I had offended her somehow, broken some rule known only to women that said unless the flowers cost $40 a dozen, they aren’t worth having. But Melodee slowly smiled, and took the flower from my hand. She signed, “No one ever picked a flower for me before.” She slipped the flower behind her ear, and then patted the tailgate next to her. I sat down beside her, and she leaned against me. We just sat there for a long time, watching the stars and not speaking. We only moved to point to the occasional shooting star as they passed through the darkness.

I felt Melodee shiver, and I asked if she was cold. She nodded, so I helped her down and we got back in the truck. I started the engine and started to put the truck in gear, but she touched my hand. When I looked at her, Melodee took a deep breath and took the flower from her hair and put it carefully on the dash. She leaned over and kissed me.

Things got a little blurry after that. I know we set there in the darkness making out like a couple of kids at the drive-in for more than an hour. I can’t remember either of us saying much of anything, and truth be told, we didn’t get much past “first base”. What I do know for sure is that Melodee felt wonderful in my arms and her lips tasted delicious.

It was pushing 3am when we finally came up for air and decided that we should get home, and all the way there, we held hands and Melodee used the center seatbelt and sat next to me. I just parked the truck in front of the house and we went inside. We peeked into the girl’s rooms and they were both sound asleep.

All the way home, I had been wondering what to do when we got there. Okay, I’ll admit that I wanted Melodee. To this day, I have no idea why we didn’t have sex in the truck, but it seemed right just kissing her. Once we got home, I thought things would be different. I know there are some reading this who will fuss about my kids being in the house, but I wasn’t thinking about that.

I walked Melodee to her room, and she opened the door. She turned to face me and smiled, though it looked a little shy, something I had never seen from her before. She asked, “Would you like to come inside?”

I didn’t even think about it. It was like I had planned it all, and rehearsed the lines, and knew exactly what to say to her. I reached up and put my hand on her cheek. “No, we both need to think about this and what happened.” I kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Melodee.”

I walked down the hall toward my room.

By the time I got to my room and closed the door, I was ready to kick myself. I don’t know how long I was in the shower (cold, by the way) before I noticed that I still had my socks on. But sometime around when I laid down and turned out the light, I realized what had happened.

At some point over the last five years, I had fallen in love with Melodee. The fact that she was acting an awful lot like I was told me that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way.

I slept very well that night, and I had wonderful dreams about an amazing woman.


Permanent link to this article: http://melodeeaaron.com/blog/2012/01/26/life-with-melodee-part-3/