Mr. and Mrs. Tolstoy

Leo and Sophia liked to air their differences in front of the help. Ah, the privilege of wealth and fame. When couples of modest or no means fight they can only shout louder and longer to try to upstage one another. This grows tiring and results in neither comfort nor empathy. Pain hurled mightily into dead hearts creating a silent thud. No satisfaction. No winners.

But for those in positions of high art or authority the world watches and eagerly takes sides. We love a celebrity brawl. The players take their passionatle pleas to their rival-loves through the ravenous press. Fodder for the rags numbs private pain and the next round begins. The people's favor trumps reason. Fame intensifies and everybody wins. Common decency the only casualty.

Whoa. Where did that come from? Saw The Last Station, a film documenting/dramatizing the late days of Tolstoy and the battle over the rights to his copyrights, and came away pondering the added dimension, the extra tools available to couples who enjoy a seat of power or fascination. I worked for a couple that enjoyed this special privilege. When it suited them they communicated their wants, their desires, their demands to those of us in their employ by putting on an intense argument. I wanted to slink away to the shadows but knew I was the intended audience and walking out in the middle of the show would be rude. So I stayed, watching for cues, discerning my evolving job description.

These scenes from passionate marriages seeking fame and fortune strengthen my resolve to live a peaceful, unnotable life and enhance my gratitude for a partner with like desires. I embrace a life of humility and invisibility coupled with drama-free co-existence. No public displays of disaffection. Satisfaction guaranteed.