I remember observing the wives of my brothers. I remember each of them lovingly playing the role of wife. One time, I was playing golf with my brother in Taft. We were on the fifth tee, which is about the furthest we can get from the clubhouse where the phone is located. The announcement was something to the effect of emergency. My brother hopped in the cart and rolled all the way over to the clubhouse. After letting three groups ahead of us, he comes back smiling... but he did not mention what the conversation was about. We hit our tee shots, got in the cart and boom, another call. My brother took me to my ball and then rolled back to the clubhouse to take the call. Over the next 5 holes he left the game three more times to take a call from his new bride. She was, to say the very least, obsessive and compulsive. The only person in the world that really mattered was her. Needless to say, they did not divorce until after having two boys. Since that time, my brother refuses to marry and she has been married three more times... each man wealthier than the next. Always the money it was with that woman. Always the fucking money.