Even though marriage is doomed, if you turned it into a job you

When Al Goldstein declared, “Even though marriage is doomed, if you turned it into a job you like and really work at it – it can be salvaged,” he spoke as one who saw life without illusions. His words, though wrapped in cynicism, contain a truth older than stone: love is not sustained by passion alone. Marriage, once ablaze with fire, often drifts toward ashes if not tended. Goldstein, a man known for bluntness, spoke of doom not as prophecy inevitable, but as warning: without effort, without discipline, marriage withers. Yet he reminds us, too, that effort—steady, intentional, devoted—has the power to redeem what seems beyond hope.

The meaning of this quote lies in its hard wisdom. To call marriage “doomed” is to recognize that the natural course of human desire is fleeting, that joy and attraction ebb as surely as the tide. Many couples discover that the first sweetness of love does not endure by itself. Yet Goldstein’s voice tells us this: treat marriage as a calling, a craft, a job you delight in, and its doom can be defied. The labor of love, unlike labor done in chains, is labor chosen, and in this lies the power of renewal.

The origin of his thought comes from the raw honesty of a man who had seen both failure and survival in relationships. Goldstein, known for irreverence, did not veil his recognition that most unions stumble. But unlike the prophets of despair, he pointed to a way forward: transformation through work. Where some see labor as burden, he saw in it the seed of salvation. His words echo the wisdom of old farmers who knew that barren fields yield nothing unless tilled, watered, and tended with patience. So too with marriage—its fruit depends upon the diligence of its keepers.

Consider the life of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt. Their marriage was tested by distance, politics, and even betrayal. By all accounts, it could have been “doomed.” Yet instead of abandoning it, they reshaped it—turning it into a partnership of purpose. They worked at it as one would at a vocation: Franklin as statesman, Eleanor as activist. Though their love shifted, their labor together salvaged the bond, transforming it into a force that changed the world. Their story shows that when passion wanes, purpose and effort can yet redeem the union.

Goldstein’s jest hides a stern teaching: no greatness comes without toil. Marriage, like art, like leadership, like the tilling of the earth, demands a steady hand and a willing spirit. It may feel doomed when storms strike, but to “turn it into a job you like” is to find joy even in its hardships. To wake each day and ask not, What has this union given me? but What can I give to it?—this is the posture that salvages what would otherwise collapse.

The lesson is plain: do not be fooled into thinking love alone sustains a life together. Passion begins the journey, but work carries it to its end. Those who shirk effort, who treat marriage as a gift that requires no tending, will find only dust. But those who embrace labor, who choose to see the daily tasks of patience, forgiveness, and renewal as holy work, will find salvation where others find ruin.

What, then, must the listener do? First, commit to the labor of marriage not as drudgery but as devotion. Second, seek joy in the work itself—learn to delight in the tending of the bond, as a gardener delights in watering the soil. Third, when storms come and doom seems certain, refuse despair. Instead, ask: How can we reshape this? How can we rebuild? For in the act of working at love, salvation is born.

Remember always: even if marriage seems doomed, it can be salvaged. Not by chance, not by fate, but by will and work. Enter the union as one would enter both temple and workshop—with reverence, with effort, and with joy in the labor. For though doom may whisper, devotion answers louder, and in that answer, love endures.