The Odyssey and the Idiocy

I once was told there are three kinds of men I should never marry. Working actors. Non-working actors. Between jobs actors. That describes my husband to a T. For twenty years, I hung in with this guy. Supported him, massaged his ego, responded to his every whim, cried with him, rejoiced with him, and had his children. And, all the while, gave up my career in theater and film so I could stand by him until at last he knew success. And with his success came adulation, and...
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I once was told there are three kinds of men I should never marry. Working actors. Non-working actors. Between jobs actors. That describes my husband to a T. For twenty years, I hung in with this guy. Supported him, massaged his ego, responded to his every whim, cried with him, rejoiced with him, and had his children. And, all the while, gave up my career in theater and film so I could stand by him until at last he knew success. And with his success came adulation, and with adulation, came sexual affairs, and with sexual affairs came divorce. If the marriage was hell, divorce proceedings were Armageddon. He did everything to intimidate me, belittle me and frighten me. Do I regret that I never married the boy back home? Absolutely not. If had stayed in Huron, South Dakota, I would have missed the experiences with: Marilyn Monroe, Mel Brooks, Vivian Blaine, Hume Cronyn, Jessica Tandy, Daniel Mann, Jacqueline Onassis, Roy Scheider, Kurt Vonnegut and a summer living with Veronica Lake.