“There’s something I need to talk to you about. Something that’s been nawing at me like a beaver chowing down on a piece of termite-infested pine. Something that’s been bothering me for a long, long, time.

“It’s concerts. Oh, sure, we see a lot of shows, like Rickie Lee Jones and Celine Dion, but what’s really bothering me is that I never get to pick the concerts. We always see what you want to see, and if there’s a band I want to check out, say Portastatic or Local H – you’re suddenly not interested. You always say you’ll have a headache or that you have to go to your mammal dominance class that night. This has got to stop right now.

“Surprised? I’ll bet you’re surprised. After all, you’ve been picking all the shows since we got married. Jimmy Buffett, Paul McCartney and Nada Surf, they were all your favorites. But did I ever get to see The Subways? Or Arrested Development? ‘No,’ you said. ‘Maybe next time,’ you said. Well, I got news for you. The ‘next time,’ is now.

“You see, dear, I’m getting tired of only going to the shows you want to see. It’s time I picked a few concerts, like Jason Mraz and Porcupine Tree. You’ve called the shots for way too long. I’ve missed too many bands too many times, and I’m afraid that if I don’t start making these concert decisions soon, I’m going to end up living in an old-folks home watching my Wayne Newton performance video until they pry the remote from my cold dead hands. What I’m trying to say, dear, is that it’s time for a change.

“Oh, don’t give me that ‘Women are from Venus, Men from Uranus,’ crap. You knew this was coming. A man can only take so much. A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do. From now on I’ll go through the new concert listings. From now on, I’ll pick the shows, and if I say we’re going to see Jaguares or Cake so be it. Got it? Good. End of discussion.

“That is, of course, if it’s all right with you, dear.”