Richard Reiss

It’s not often that I find a historical document at the bottom of my file cabinet. So imagine my surprise when I came across “Rules for a Happy Marriage,” given to my wife and me by the town clerk of Ramapo, N.Y., in 1985, (along with a package of cantaloupe seeds — get it?) upon applying for our marriage license.

On the good news side, Paula and I are still married. That said, has the experience been happy? Let’s look at the rules.

Never both be angry at the same time
It really isn’t fair that the first rule is impossible. Anger is a human emotion that everyone experiences. In our case, we have often been angry at the same time over the same thing. For example, we honeymooned in Italy with a first stop in Venice and a brief layover in Paris along the way. Our layover in Paris was supposed to last two hours. Yet a strike at the Paris airport forced us to spend an entire day watching the planes land and take off. “Angry” only begins to describe our shared feelings for having lost 24 hours on the Grand Canal. Suddenly, it was easy to understand why my parents disliked the French.

Never yell at each other unless the house in on fire
The house is still standing, and so are we. My vocal cords are intact, and so are Paula’s. In a perfect world, we are calm, rational people logically discussing the trials and tribulations of family life. Have you met my kids? Maybe there was some yelling around parenting.

If one of you must win an argument, let it be your mate
In what universe do I willingly lose anything, let alone an argument? And that is why Iceland, not Guatemala, is our next trip.

If you must criticize, do it lovingly
There isn’t a single glacier in Guatemala — not one. Of course, I love you, dear.

Never bring up mistakes of the past
Why are we still fighting about Iceland? What about that awful trip to Disney World when all we did was fight with the kids? Had I known in advance about the numerous mistakes I would make during our marriage, I would never have bought the time-share, drank the water in Mexico, climbed that mountain or made jokes about the obnoxious man shouting orders during cleanup day at the Boy Scout Camp where I was employed. Nobody told me he was chairman of the board, although everybody told me I was about to get fired. If I never brought up my mistakes, my stories would be extremely boring, and possibly my marriage, too.

Neglect the whole world rather than each other
Seriously? Have you heard about climate change? Do you follow politics? Iran. Russia. China. Israel. Pick one. There isn’t a bubble big enough that could keep world affairs out of our lives. If there were, then what would we argue about? Certainly, not the kids.

Never go to sleep with an unsettled argument
I got nothing here. I can’t stop laughing.

At least once every day, try to say one kind or complimentary thing to your life’s partner
Admittedly, I don’t compliment Paula every day, so here are nine complimentary words to describe her: pretty, smart, funny, energetic, talented, creative, diligent, accomplished and charming. You might think nine is an odd number. However, when I asked Paula to find complimentary words about me, her list topped out at six. She included things like dashing and witty, but let’s face it, nine is a lot more than six. I win. She loses. Hello, Iceland.

When you have done something wrong, be ready to admit it and ask for forgiveness
When you’re always right, this is a problem. I could ask for forgiveness for being dashing and witty, but that’s just how I was born. It seems to me that forgiveness is ephemeral. It also seems to me that I really don’t understand the definition of ephemeral. It’s one of those words I like to use because it implies that I know how to use fancy words in real sentences. Forgive me.

It takes two to make a quarrel, and the one in the wrong is the one who does the most talking
This isn’t even a rule; it’s a statement. I say very little on the rare occasions when Paula and I fight. She says, “It’s just like you to forget to bring out the garbage.” I say, “Oh.” She says, “Is that the only pair of jeans you own? It has holes.” I say, “Really.” She says, “You never make us dinner anymore.” I say, “True.” Logically, the outcome is not only inevitable, it’s predicable: I win. Who doesn’t love a winner?

It’s also awesome to be happily married whether you follow these rules, create your own as you go along or simply live a joyful life in blissful anarchy. There is, of course, one caveat: It takes a little work — actually, a lot.

For me, there are too many “nevers” in the town of Ramapo’s “Rules for a Happy Marriage.” Instead of never, I suggest thinking about forever. Or, as I often say to Paula, “for as long we think it’s a good idea.” So far — nearly 39 years and going — it still is.