Like all couples, the Professor and I see eye-to-eye on some things, and disagree vehemently on others. He likes to scuba dive; I like to dance. He likes opera; I like classic rock. He is a Republican; I am a Democrat. (In fact, the one time in my life I voted for a Republican for President was the one time in the Professor's life that he voted for a Democrat.) He doesn't notice color or furniture or flowers; they are very important to me. He always knows what the stock market and Mother Nature are doing; unless it's something dramatic, I could care less.

But we get along beautifully (most of the time) because we are both teenage boys at heart. Now this was a revelation to me. I never got to actually BE a teenage boy because, well, for openers -- I'm not male! And back when I was a teenager, girls had very few freedoms and any sort of independence or irreverence was frowned upon.

I realized all this on Saturday when we went to see Snakes on a Plane. When I first suggested it, the Professor went into one of his grown-up moods and ridiculed the idea, but after pondering it for a while, he decided to "indulge" me. Well, the audience consisted of us and about 50 teenage and pre-teen boys. We all laughed at the same places; we all said the famous line:"I'm so sick of these m----r f-----g snakes on this m----r f-----g plane!" It was hokey and ridiculous and I absolutely loved it ... and so did the Professor.

So I have decided to come out of the closet, so to speak, and embrace my teenage boy-ness. I will no longer be embarrassed that I enjoy some really tacky, even politically incorrect, humor. Just one thing is lacking. Can anyone teach us how to do armpit farts?