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ESPN! Bar food! I'm wedded to freedom

I'm not "single." I'm autonomous.

Plans don't mean much when you're a bachelor. Tonight, tomorrow night and most every night, I'm going to do exactly what I feel like. When the Utah Jazz are on ESPN (this almost never happens), I can sit and watch the entire game. Five magazines will arrive on the same day, and I quietly put down articles for hours.

My buddy's buddy's cousin's boss is having a birthday at TD's? I'm there, packing a wad of ones. Drink and food specials at different bars all over Albuquerque are committed to memory, and I can stay out late or not even come home at all.

My married friend Willie Jefferson's house is cleaner than mine, I'm sure, and his dinners are likely more balanced than my usual: Cap'n Crunch (while watching "Seinfeld" reruns). But I've been spending every weekend this winter bouncing down mountains on a snowboard. What's he up to? Changing diapers? Shopping for minivans? Interviewing landscapers?

We've got pingpong, darts, homemade stadium seating and a pile of old Playboys at my place. Our huge friggin' TV is perpetually tuned to ESPN. When I want to spend a night playing basketball at UNM or seeing "Smokin' Aces" with my friends, there's no need to consider what consequences await.

And then there's The Game. Maybe I envy a bit that married guys don't have to subject themselves to the dirty, soul-sucking sport going on "out there" between single men and women. It's left me feeling terribly guilty at some points in my life, and chewed up and spit out at others. (More often it's the latter. I'm not a very good player.)

But The Game is rarely predictable, while being married strikes me as exactly that.

Phil Parker

You single guys only know the half of it

May 4, 2002, was the best day of my life. Why, you ask? I married my best friend, Mable.

After a wild and crazy six-year courtship, I tied the knot. Now with two children - Trey and Lasendra - in tow, I can say it was the finest decision of my life.

I will admit, I did my share of pursuing and wooing the ladies, but it all boiled down to one thing - finding a life partner I could share my dreams with, someone I could commit to, for better or for worse . . . someone who could be my helpmeet.

My bachelor friend Phil Parker has the bar scene; I'll gladly take diapers. He answers to no one; I revel in my responsibility to family.

As a teen, I saw my parents' marriage (they just made 35 years) and knew then I wanted to be married.

For me, there are obvious benefits - healthy life, longevity, an active sex life and children - but what I really like is having someone in my corner. You have a keeper if you find someone you can trust and who trusts you, someone who will be honest with you ("Baby, you spent $1,500 on that plasma for the Super Bowl and we have bills all over the place!") and love you in spite of yourself.

When I was single, I didn't have that. I didn't have someone I could cuddle with on cold winter nights. I didn't have someone to share my dreams of being a multitrillionaire. I didn't have someone to gallivant with through Latin America on my wild excursions. I didn't have someone to call me and say, "Baby boy, I love you."

Now I have my Wonder Twin as my wife, and life is grand. I have someone who can fall asleep in my arms, whose shoulders I can massage, a woman I can shower with poetry and serenade all night long.

I have someone I can grow old with and conquer the world with.

Willie Jefferson