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I Don't Want To Marry Chris Matthews

I Don't Want To Marry Chris Matthews

Listen to this 'Talk of the Nation' topic

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My new roomie. Source: Mark Mainz/Getty Images hide caption

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Source: Mark Mainz/Getty Images

Lately, I've been coming home to Chris Matthews. This disturbs me, as I did not accept a proposal of marriage from Mr. Matthews, nor does he know how to use our grill (not a euphemism), something that is very important to me. Yet, there he is, shouting, interrupting, and grunting, and reassuring me that he will be back after just a short break. The truly disturbing part is that the gentleman from whom I did accept a proposal of marriage, and often uses his grilling genius to great advantage, is there too, gesturing wildly at the screen, and carrying on a complex conversation with Mr. Matthews, and is only vaguely aware that I've entered the room. It is, as you might imagine, difficult to get a word in edgewise between the two of them. And therein lies the special conundrum of this election season: my darling partner — he of the perfectly rare steak and beautifully balanced gin and tonics — has been replaced by a snorting, ranting, poll-spewing, election-obsessed barbarian. I get my fill of politics at work; I have to be begged to talk election outside of this building, so this strange conversion is somewhat upsetting. I can only imagine that relationships across the country have been besieged by this brand of adultery, and that I'm not the only woman to come home to the head, shoulders, and racket of non-stop cable tv election news. Meghan Daum has noticed the phenomenon, and we can all use a little help sometimes. If you are one of the — ahem — junkies, or if you've lost a loved one to that damn CNN election map, I suggest we all get together and have a little chat about appropriate home behavior. And, um, sweetie-pie? I need a refill at the next commercial — and crushed ice, if you please.

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