he wears his t-shirts inside out

My husband is a hippie in his own right. He still likes nice sunglasses and would love to drive (own) an exotic sports car, but he ditches the status quo when he can. I won't divulge his voting record or other too-personal quirks that I probably find appealing because then I'd be invading his privacy. But since our lives overlap so, it's only normal that my blog should reflect that fact on occasion. It's only fitting that his life would be my topic of the moment, at least sometimes. Some mention of this person in my life. My partner, my perfect fit, my best friend.

He started wearing his t-shirts inside out last year, I think. It was subtle at first, and not 100 percent of the time even now. I remember asking him about it and yet, I can't recall his answer. He has a way of not answering my questions sometimes. Tenacious as I am about open communication and exchange of ideas, I've learned to let this pass when it happens. If I am expressive and passionate about whatever my focus is at any given moment, David is just as blase' about whatever thing he ponders as it strikes his fancy. Oh, he can get worked up. Let's talk about the journalistic snafus of the CNBC talking heads or the way people cave to things like cheating or laziness for the sake of convenience. These are "our" talks, and I'm privy to thoughts he doesn't and likely wouldn't share with others. But I've always been of the belief that if you get something personal or from deep inside out of David, you've found a diamond, and not necessarily in the rough.

At dinner, he briefly shared his thoughts on braces "for myself." Suffice it to say that this man who hates augmented breasts sees braces almost as a form of plastic surgery! He did not say this, but I think I've captured the essence of his opinion quite adequately here. He didn't have to say much for me to know that this goes back to the idea of being true to oneself, something he values as much as free will. Braces, implants, plastic surgery. I don't think permanent marking of oneself falls into this category for him, though. Tattoos can be an extension and expression of ones truest self, even if personal. Not something I'll ever do; I'll tell you what I think and who I am with my mouth or keyboard, thankyouverymuch. But I respect his take on things, which isn't to say the idea of braces is completely off-limits at this point.

I call him some version of a hippie because he reads guys you've probably never heard of, he doesn't seem to think any conspiracy theory is too out there to consider (anything's possible, right?), and he almost always wears his t-shirts inside out because he doesn't want to be a walking billboard for some company thriving on the world according to money, but unwilling to share with others. He turns off the water part of the time while showering and he's been replacing our traditional bulbs with more energy-efficient ones. He prints in "draft" quality to save on ink, and he likes documentaries but doesn't subscribe to reality television. And he firmly believes that anything anyone in our family knows about and/or is good at is something all of us should learn about and/or at least try.

With all my heart, I know he would have been a gladiator, a Greek warrior, a Samurai had he not been born now. I know he was born for this time, though, whatever the more spiritual reasoning might be. If chastity weren't an issue, he might also have been a Tibetan monk... he could pull off the vow of silence quite easily, I think. And I'm sure if we were tossed back 40 years, he'd likely be raging the machine against any and all injustices with which the youth of that era were taking issue. But even as he coaches baseball, reads to our sons and prays with them nightly, there always remains that something about David. It's not always easy to explain, but it is undoubtedly there. Always.