This won't be one of them.

Back in April I took my wife to New Orleans for the vacation away from the kids which we had never taken. I had set it up so that we could meet, in person, a couple of folks whom I'd been corresponding with through the Steely Dan network. Primarily, it was a chance to go to the Jazzfest held in New Orleans every spring.

We stayed in a very upscale hotel, ate like royalty, went to different shows and walked the French Quarter. Jazzfest was just spectacular, 80,000 people a day packed a three day weekend of music. In other words, it had all the ingrediants for things we like best to do - food, music, friends.

Ally contacted a severe case of PMS the second day down there. I found myself on the defensive for the balance of the trip against the word sniping and mean spirited behaivior this can sometimes bring about. And until she started in on the friends down there (remember, this was the first time I'd met them), I was dealing with it as best I could.

But after a series of catty remarks to the female pal, followed by storming out of a restuarant where we were all eating dinner, I had had enough. I was furious, as mad as I can ever remember being toward anyone, let alone my wife. With only a day left on the trip, I shut her out verbally, emotionally. It was a miserable flight back.

Now eventually she became tearful and apologetic, and blamed it on jealousy of this female pal (?) and all, and we made up. A tiny little part of me filed the incident away with an uncertain footnote.

This weekend we went up to an oyster fest which was one minor disaster after the next, but minor disasters can be dealt with. Even the minor verbal sniping which she had started. I mean, Stu's pride and joy Suburban conked out on him just as we are leaving and he and his wife wind up packing into our car. Which presents a problem as I had planned for some time to make a side trip to see Sandy and her boys (from my first entry, the woman who lost her husband in late August). But this too was solvable, right? A quick ride up there and back after the fest, a shorter than planned visit.

Ally, having already met Sandy, was for some reason uneasy about going up to see her. Apparently, I was blind to the extent of this because in short order, Ally managed to:

1. Get head deep into the vodka at the oyster gig and develop a fine drunk.

2. Dance with every strange guy handy during the hour long band concert.

3. Continue to snatch at every available bottle of liquor after we got back to the hotel

4. Told me to go ahead up to Sandy's without her, which I refused to do.

Now you would think at this point it was time for Ally to pass out and sleep it off. No such luck. First she just disapeared on the hotel grounds and I went looking for her. Found her, cursing and raging at me. Which is unknown for her, even when gassed to the gills. At one point, she flat out told me to "leave her the f*** alone." Actually, make that two points.

Trust me, I was more than willing at that point to leave her WELL alone.

So she went ahead and disapeared again. This time, it was Stu, of all people, who found her, across the highway and sobbing (Stu does about as well in these situations as I do, which is to say poorly). I met them on their way back to the rooms, and collected Ally from him. The one thought I had was for her safety, she was in a stupor that was about to get her hurt in one way or another.

After I got her talking, which was no mean feat, she began to recount her conviction that she was jealous of Sandy! I mean, my God, by what possible reason was she coming up with this? Didn't get a very conclusive answer, and didn't expect to.

And so it went. More histrionics and drama, in front of half the hotel. We finally got her trundled into bed and unconcious. Packed her up in the morning and fed her, drove back home.

Pretty obviously, we never made it to Sandy's, although I must say I was sorely tempted to go just for some sober adult conversation with her and Macy. I called Sandy and told her it was a no show. She had made some preparations, cooked some food. Yeah, I felt GREAT about that.

Let's see. I now have a couple of embarrassed close friends, who were great about the whole thing. I have a bunch of folks I know who stayed at this hotel who were witness to some of this display, and who surely love to gossip. I have a wife who, at 42, absolutely can't handle the alcohol. There's Sandy who must think we're both nuts. There's Ally herself, who has made some noises of contrition.

I'm not liking having to file this away mentally. I want another confrontation like this about as much as a cracked molar.

I really am questioning myself as to - "Is this all about me? Am I wrong here, just blind to obvious stuff, should I do something different, like have no speaking relationships with any other women on the planet?"

If I thought I was going to feel better about this after making an entry, I failed.

But I'll try again tomorrow.

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