By Celia Rivenbark
McClatchy-Tribune Information Services.
In the wake of Gwyneth Paltrow’s now famously conscious uncoupling from her husband of 10 years, Chris Martin, there is a huge new industry being born, that of the “divorce coach.”
And, yes, this is the role that was previously played by the bride’s mama.
As in: “Sissy Mae, that man was never good enough for you. You need to cut your losses. My friend Ruby’s son Bernard has been asking about you ever since he saw you at the class reunion. He just got his second Dollar General store so you do the math.”
If you offer any resistance to Bernard as a possible future husband, you should expect your “divorce coach,” to ramp things up a bit.
“You know he’s also learning Italian. Sure, it’s in the bathroom at the Macaroni Grill but Ruby tells me that Bernard says he’s just one really long pee from being able to ask, “Where is the library?” in flawless I-talian. Now isn’t that the kind of man worth marrying?
Somebody who’s always thinking about how to better himself? And did I mention that he has two Dollar Generals?”
The divorce coach idea makes sense to me. We already have life coaches and this is just a sub-specialty. Thanks, Gwyneth Paltrow, for once again letting us know what we need before we even know it ourselves. If I had the skills, I would carve a replica of you in a very large bar of Velveeta and mail it to you for all your service to humanity.
And, yes, I know you only eat food that is flown into your kitchen windows by bluebirds and laid on the tongue that you obsessively brush every morning, but I’m being purposely ironic as I assume you are when you say crazy-butt things like: “In many ways (Chris and I) are closer than we have ever been.”