My Husband, Anderson & Me

........... 3 Way


Threesomes can make for strange bedfellows, especially when that means
a husband, his husband and the anchorman he admires most.
(These cuties are not Peter & Alan, but you get the idea.)

---

Husband's CNN News Channel obsession means he shares his attention with Anderson Cooper
by Susie Essman (as adapted for Anderson by Alan DeValle, Peter's husband)

Saturday, October 24th 2009, 3:09 PM

There’s no easy way to say this, but my husband is into three-ways. Every night when we dim the lights and crawl into bed, there’s always someone else with us, and it’s always the same person — no, not Rick Sanchez, my Spanish hunk, but Anderson Cooper. That’s right, Anderson Cooper, the news anchor and hurricane chaser extraordinaire; the man who puts the ayayay in isobar, the man who is the face of CNN News Channel. That Anderson Cooper. He’s the last person my husband sees at night and the first person he looks at in the morning, on his computer: Anderson Cooper 360º blog is on 24 hours a day, and I’m pretty sure that between sunset and sunrise, Peter's dreaming about him, too.

My husband is in love, I just know it. A man knows these things about his man, and even though it’s not a physical relationship, just an emotional one, isn't that just as dangerous? Maybe even more so? You can't shower away feelings. And yet, I'm not nearly as resentful as I might be; in fact, I understand how Peter feels. I like Anderson Cooper, too.

Why wouldn't I? Why wouldn't anyone? If there’s a tsunami, Cooper is there. If there’s a hurricane, he’s in the eye of it. Floods, wars, elections, drugs from México ... he’s Andy-on-the-spot. And not only is he there, he’s there with fervor, thrilled to be in harm’s way -- billboard parts flying at guillotine speed just inches from his neck; bombs exploding five yards from where he stands (and escaping with all his salt and paper hair undisturbed, not a single scratch.) I've never seen anyone get this worked up over hurricanes' conditions and rockets exploding near by ... except, of course, my husband ... and Anderson. Having Anderson Cooper -- in all his weather-beaten manglory or looking unaffected by a bomb exploding near by, actually, looking at the blowup then facing the camera with a wide smile on his face -- on TV at the foot of the bed is not as bad it sounds, particularly when you look at the other broadcasts' options available. Wimps!

Think about it.

There are nine hundred cable channels, each with its own set of stars and personalities; Peter could have his choice of any one of them for our nightly ménage à trois.

For example, he could've fallen for Rob Marciano, CNN TV’s meteorologist resident virago [I had to find this word in the dictionary: "a woman of strength or spirit"], and for men like us (gay) too -- Marciano is, like his translation into Spanish: Martian, out of this world! Can you imagine what a horror that would be? Forget the relentless rain and floodings; every time Rob would reach orgasm, Peter would scream out the name of some battering hurricane or the kidnapped gay guy desperate for justice! Now that’s a real turn-on!

Or he could have developed the hots for one of those obnoxious TV pitchmen who are always yelling at the top of their lungs about some mop or chamois cloth or cutting tool that can core an apple, chop an onion or saw through a car to rescue a trapped kitten. Having one of them scream sweet nothings in my ear every night would cause chafing for sure.

I generally don't like to watch the news before I go to sleep. Too disturbing. But there was one CNN correspondent that I used to have the hots for and enjoyed watching, that is until he did something drastic to his appearance. I don't want to mention any names but his is John King. About a year ago this White House correspondent had some major glistening veneers put on his teeth and now he can't close his month or pronounce P’s, B’s or M’s. He says things like “refuflican” and “devocat.” His new smile frightens me. I don't think I want him near my bad temper.

And no, I'm not referring to Paul Begala. He would be fine. Believe it or not, I've always had a fantasy about sleeping with him, and not because I find him so attractive. He’s alright I guess; it’s just that I always thought it would be cool to be eaten by a beagle.

So you see, Anderson Cooper is not such a bad choice. I think Peter’s obsession with him might be based on some kind of identity confusion. Both are pale as a snowball, both have shaved heads, both are hunky and cute and sexy, and both get their kicks from fluctuations of the barometric pressure and AK-47s. How weird is that? What are the odds?

My peter, is a climatophile and war/peaceophile; he has the CNN Channel on whenever he’s home, like background music, the way right-wing nut jobs always have talk radio playing somewhere in the house. I am not exaggerating. He even DVRs “The Shot,” and whenever Anderson reports a hurricane special, well he’s positively orgasmic.

Peter revels in this stuff. I call this fascination “news porn.” It’s addictive, and once you start watching it, you just can't turn away. Ordinary sunny, balmy days just don't cut it anymore. And plain anchor desk prompt-reading news seem outright insipid. I understand it. Is there anything more arousing than the powerful visual of a hurricane or a rocket? The destruction and devastation are mesmerizing. Collapsed houses, burning forests, blown up tanks, flooded streets, 6 to 7 feet craters ... and though the weather may always be changing, the one constant is that Anderson Cooper is out there, fearless and selfless, braving the elements and the bombs.

Anderson is out there, in the rain and battlefield, wind and bullets, sacrificing for all of us, putting his life on the line every day, just so we know whether the folks in Miami or New Orleans should wear a marvelous outfit from Armani or Ralph Lauren or to opt for a London Fog parka and rubbers. He’s like Jesus, getting soaked for our sins.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not weather/battle bashing — I watch the CNN Channel too. It’s a wonderful network, where every so often you can see the national forecast and the world's wars. That’s really all I care about. Peter cares about the weather and the wars/peace process all over the world. He’s a much better person than I am.

He’s even philosophical about it. He believes weather and bullets are great equalizers that proves how little control we have. It’s very humbling. Yeah, we've got all this technology and intelligence and information, but weather and war are the big “fuck you!” to us all.

The real boss is Mother Nature herself and Presidents like George W. Bush. It’s nice to be with a man who believes in ultimate peace power.

Sometimes Peter and I like to watch the CNN channel together. In fact, we particularly enjoy cuddling during flood season. I think that one of the keys to the success of our relationship is that for the most part we like to watch the same things on TV. We both like to watch news and anything having to do with ancient civilizations and animals and nature and evolution and anthropology and science and old movies.

But like most couples, we don't agree on everything. There are shows he likes and I don't, and vice versa. I love “Desperate Housewives” on ABC. Peter hates when I watch that show because all of the wives are cheating on their husbands, every single one of them, and invariably, when I watch it, I accuse him of cheating on me with another guy.

I know, it’s totally irrational and it’s based on nothing, but I'm absolutely sure I'm right. If the women on “Desperate Housewives” are cheating and they're all married, ergo my husband must be doing it, too. Peter likes shows like “The Daily Show” and “How I Met Your Mother,” “Two And A Half Men” and “Disasters in History,” those kinds of techno/mechanical/disaster-is-somehow-involved men shows. I'm not interested.

Too messy and cheap.

Luckily, there’s usually enough common ground to get us through the night — not to mention more than one television in the house if a conflict does arise. But when it’s time to go to bed and I turn the lights off and close my eyes, my husband turns to the CNN Channel like clockwork for one last glimpse of his hero, Anderson Cooper, before he drifts off to dreamland.

How can I compete with a man in a red windbreaker, or in a blue bullet-proof vest, driving in a Jeep full with other handsome guys with guns or 140-mile-an-hour wind gusts? I can't and I won't even try.

All I can do is embrace Peter’s obsession with Anderson Cooper and find solace in the fact that it could be worse — he could be in love with Sam Champion.

From WHAT WOULD SUSIE AND ALAN SAY? by Susie Essman and here by Alan DeValle, Peter's husband. © 2019 by Esswoman/DeValleman Productions.

Susie Essman

Alan DeValle