Thou shalt lie, if necessary

John Smith is so right.

The Jackson man and his bride, Mary, have been married 70 years, longer than any of the other couples -- all married 50 years or more -- at this year's Schnucks party on Valentine's Day.

Those words of John's ought to etched in the shaving mirror of every man alive:

"Keepin' my mouth shut kept me out of a lot of trouble."

Amen!

Men -- and you know who you are -- can recall, usually while wincing, the highlights of those occasions when words were uttered that prove the need for someone to invent a giant stupidity eraser, a device that could not only take back those ill-spoken words, but also delete them from the memory of the woman who cooks your food and has ample opportunity to spike what you eat with Elmer's glue or a shot of WD-40 or anything else readily available from that shelf over the workbench in the garage where men keep power tools but generally don't know how to use them safely.

This is why I would add the following words to the mirror:

"Lie if you have to."

OK, before you spew milk all over your half-empty Wheat Chex bowl, let me explain why I am a proponent of telling untruths in certain situations. Most of you know what they are, but maybe you could use a refresher course.

Keep in mind that I have only been married 40 years and eight months (who's counting?), but I think I've learned a thing or two your Sunday-school teacher probably left out because it didn't fit in with all those "Thou shalt nots."

Men, I'm talking to you. Some of you are lazier than frogs in a mudhole, so you might have to have your wives read this part to you. But it's important. So pay attention.

Sometimes you lie because it will save your own skin and avoid some grief.

Example: At Monday's regular lunch group, someone at the table asked if the pile of food on my plate was part of my weight-loss diet. I can't help it if Doc Cain's featured specials were fried chicken and pulled pork. I have no influence over what he cooks. In my defense, I must point out that I also had a pile of salad on my plate.

So I told my inquisitive lunch mates that I could go home and honestly tell my wife that I had a salad for lunch. This is lying by omission, and I'm not sure what the eternal penalty is for that. But I know there are certain short-term advantages that cannot be ignored.

Another example of lying by omission is when your trainer at the fitness place casually asks "Are you still losing weight?" and you say no without adding the fact that you've gained a pound or two (which would be an outright lie).

See how it works?

Sometimes you lie because innocent children are involved.

Example: Your young son hands you a picture with smears of red and blue and orange and a considerable amount of purple (obviously the only unbroken crayon left in the box) and says, "Look, Pop! Do you like it? Do you know what it is?"

This is a trick question tiny tots learn to ask to make their parents look foolish and feel incompetent. Do you tell the truth and blurt out, "Kid, I don't have a clue what this mess is."

No. you're a father, and you'd like to stay that way. So you say "Wow, this is fantastic! This is the best ... I've ever seen!" and hope the 150 million-to-one odds are in your favor at that very moment.

Sometimes you lie because your wife has asked The Question.

You know what's coming next.

"Honey, do these new slacks make me look bigger in the rear? Be honest now."

Yeah, like I don't want to make it to anniversary No. 41.

Which is it, John? Do I keep my trap shut? Or lie?

~ R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.