I didn't even read the other article, from Time, just a paragraph that made me want to puke (awkwardly inserted, possibly unintentionally ironic promotional link intact; emphasis mine):
Getting married for life, having children and raising them with your partner — this is still the way most Americans are conducting adult life, but the numbers who are moving in a different direction continue to rise. Most notably, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported in May that births to unmarried women have reached an astonishing 39.7%. (See pictures of love in the animal kingdom.) How much does this matter? More than words can say. There is no other single force causing as much measurable hardship and human misery in this country as the collapse of marriage.For "More than words can say," read "There's no discernible evidence for this claim."
I mean WTF? Really? No other force? How about, I don't know, poverty? Just a guess. If all the poor people would just settle down and get married, things would be awesome? Where do people get the chutzpah to make outlandish claims like this? P.S. That's not an antisemitic remark, the author's name is "Flanagan." You know, like in Cocktail.
I've been feeling grouchy this week about never having any free time. Every weekday, I wake up at 7, leave the house at 8 and start working about 8:30. I try to leave by 5:30 for the gym. I get home around 7, then cook dinner and eat with John. By the time we've cleaned up and I've checked my mail and email, unpacked my bag and repacked it for the next day, it's 9 or so. I'm one of those insufferable people who needs eight hours of sleep to feel fully functional, so that leaves me with two hours of unscheduled time per day. If I have any errand-type or logistical things I need to do (pay bills, make a phone call, do laundry, what have you) I have to do it during those two hours. I almost never use it to write because I'm too tired to think creatively. Sometimes I read a little. Sometimes I try to get in bed before 11 so it's not so hard to wake up at 7 (it's been near impossible for the past six weeks because of all the rain and the light never changing).
Essentially, even those two precious hours end up feeling mostly unusable. I just sort of wander around, straighten up the apartment a little, apply unguents and ointments to my perpetually itchy skin, maybe pluck my eyebrows. I never work on a "project." I realize I'm basically whining. I think most people escape this feeling, if they do, by not "cooking" per se, or exercising less. Or sleeping less. But I don't want to cut back on any of those things. I guess what I want is to be at work less, but I like my job and want to keep it and do well at it. Am I destined to join the perpetually dissatisfied? My Dad is fond of reminding my family aphoristically that "Life sucks and then you die." He's the king of the joke-as-refrain. "Let's ram this heap right through the barricade." "Today is another marvelous opportunity for achievement."
My dad loves that old cartoon about the guy who discovers the singing frog and thinks it'll make him rich, but the frog won't sing for anyone but him. (This fits into the same genre as Calvin & Hobbes, wherein animals and/or inanimate objects having special powers they only reveal to one person, or alternatively said person is crazy (in the case of an adult) or has a wild imagination (in the case of a child). The mistake of course would be to resolve the ambiguity.) The guy never gets rich of course and if he wasn't crazy before goes crazy I think. As a kid I kind of hated when comedies had unhappy endings. It wasn't the same as a real unhappy ending, it was played for laughs and that disturbed me. It was pretty common in cartoons, maybe even the norm. See the Roadrunner toons (yes, it's unhappy if the coyote always loses/"dies"), The Flintstones (Fred always gets displaced from his own home by the saber-toothed tiger at the end). Life sucks and then you die.