Even though her original list had been reduced from twenty-eight to fourteen items, the letter’s publication generated a great deal of interest from people all around the country—many of whom Striker hadn’t talked with in years. And while she had never managed to write a full article on the subject, it was a thrill to see her thoughts presented to the world in such a respected publication.
Susan Striker didn’t know it at the time, but in creating a list of never marry a man admonitions, she was carrying on a longstanding tradition. In one early example, an 1856 issue of The Home Circle, a monthly publication of the Methodist Episcopal Church, offered female readers ten “Little Hints about Getting a Husband.” As it turns out, though, the hints were less about getting a husband than about what kind of husband not to get. Nine of the ten tips were expressed neveristically, including these:
Never marry a fop, or one who struts about, dandy-like,
in his silk gloves and ruffles,
with a gold-headed cane, and rings on his fingers.
Never marry a mope or a drone—
one who drawls and draggles through life,
one foot after another, and lets things take their own course.
Never marry a sloven, a man who is negligent in his person
or his dress, and is filthy in his habits.
The external appearance is an index to his heart.
In 1878, an insert in The Friend, a religious and literary journal published by the Society of Friends, contained a warning to women who might be tempted to marry a man simply because he has professed his love:
Never marry a man who has only his love for you to recommend him.
It is very fascinating, but it does not make the man.
Writing that “love alone will not do,” the piece argued that other traits of the suitor must also be considered. The rest of the explanation is fascinating, and I think you will enjoy it as an example of how little has changed over the years:If the man is dishonorable to other men, or mean, or given to any vice, the time will come when you will either loathe him or sink to his level. It is hard to remember, amidst kisses, that there is anything else in the world to be done or thought of but love-making; but the days of life are many, and the husband must be a guide to be trusted—a companion, a friend, as well as a lover.
The issuance of warnings about who not to marry has been a staple of the advice literature for many years—and the trend continues to the present day. A few months ago, I pulled up behind a car at a stoplight. I was working on this chapter at the time, and the bumper sticker on the car in front of me couldn’t have been more appropriate:
Never marry a man who refers to the Rehearsal Dinner as the Last Supper.
Men, of course, have also offered thoughts on the kinds of women a man should never marry. Johnny Carson offered one hilarious example:
Never marry a girl named “Marie” who used to be known as “Murray.”
While thoughts about who one should never marry are common, they comprise only a fraction of the cautionary warnings issued to those embarking upon the matrimonial adventure. In her 1996 bestseller Wake Up and Smell the Coffee, Ann Landers offered “Twelve Rules for a Happy Marriage.” Of the dozen items on her list, six were expressed neveristically:
Never both be angry at once.
Never yell at each other unless the house is on fire.
Never bring up a mistake of the past.
Never let the day end without saying
at least one complimentary thing to your life’s partner.
Never meet without an affectionate greeting.
Never go to bed mad.
Landers was not the original author of the rules, which had been making the rounds for nearly a century as dispensers of marital advice offered their best thinking on how to make a marriage work. The twelve rules have varied slightly from person to person and era to era—and the Landers version even neglected to mention two that had commonly appeared on previous lists:
Never call your spouse a fool and mean it.
Never argue about anything in front of other people.
In addition to marital guidelines, thousands of homemaking and housekeeping tips have been offered over the years. In 1959, stay-at-home mom Heloise Bowles—the wife of an Air Force pilot stationed in Hawaii—began writing a weekly column of household hints for the Honolulu Advertiser. Mrs. Bowles had a knack for coming up with practical—but not necessarily obvious—tips on cooking, cleaning, shopping, decorating, and other domestic topics. The column was so popular it was made available for syndication, renamed “Hints from Heloise,” and ultimately picked up by more than six hundred newspapers. When Mrs. Bowles died of lung cancer in 1977, her daughter Kiah took over the column, retained the trade name, and made it even more successful. The columns of both mother and daughter were spiced with neverisms:
Never iron a dish towel.
Never make one pie crust at a time.
Never soak clothes over ten minutes.
Never put anything but food into your freezer.
Never walk into a room you are going to clean without a paper sack.
Never stretch out on concrete or cement in any type of elasticized bathing suit.
Never use scouring powder or bleaches on plastic cups.
Never wash windows when the sun is shining in.
Never, ever over-water a philodendron.
Never buy cheap paint for the kitchen.
In the remainder of the chapter, we’ll continue our look at neverisms about marriage, home, and family life. If you’re married or a parent, you may find many thoughts of value in the following pages. And if you’re contemplating marriage or parenthood, you might want to heed these lessons from those who’ve already walked down those exciting but treacherous life paths.
Never try to guess your wife’s size.
Just buy her anything marked “petite” and hold on to the receipt.ANONYMOUS