Crazy-Pops

Today I've been married to the same woman for 11 years. 11 freaking years! I've been trying to think of some way to appropriately blog today and mark the event, but, really, simple words are not going to be enough for such an occasion. I'm not sure my brain is even able to wrap itself around the concept: 11 years with the same person. Wow. I am a lucky, lucky man.

And, really, if we stop to consider the humble beginnings of this relationship that has become the foundation from which the rest of my life springs, it's even more amazing. We've been together since 1992, we have two fine young sons, a mortgage, two careers, good friends.....and it all started like this:

I was 28 and Dukey was my roommate - we shared a two bedroom apartment
in the UTC area of San Diego. He was dating his future wife; in fact, he had just started dating her. We had formed our band, The Snipehunters, and had played two gigs. I had hair down to my shoulders because I was in a band. I was a commited single man; commited because I had been through some "interesting" relationships with women and was trying to step back and not date those kind of "interesting" women anymore. I worked for a large architectural firm in San Diego. A large architectural firm that had been slowly going out of business for some time. Most of my friends had gotten laid off, but I was still there, for some reason. Probably because I have this strange penchant for being underpaid and overworked.

Then, one day, the news came down that I was getting laid off. Fine, I thought. I'll take a vacation and find another job. Well, on my very last day at that place (the place shall go nameless to protect the guilty), I noticed the woman answering the phones for the first time, even though she had been there a week. Obviously, I was distracted by my impending vacation. Anyhow, I thought she was gorgeous and, feeling like I had nothing to lose, I decided to see if I could get her number. So I came up with a plan, and I went up to her at the front desk with a notebook in my hand and said something like, "Hi, I'm in a band and we're collecting phone numbers from people to let them know about our next show (this was before e-mail made that type of thing so much easier) and I'd like to get yours." And she had apparently been taking lessons from her sister on "how to be available" so she gave me her number! I was shocked. We started chatting a bit, and I quickly found out that not only was she gorgeous, she was well read and well travelled and well mannered and delightful to talk to...all the things the women I had been dating were not. Which, as you can imagine, blew me away. I was not even in her league. This long-haired guitar player with no job could never stand a chance with such a fine woman. Still, something spurred me on (I like challenges) and, by the end of the day, after chatting with her several more times, I asked her to lunch "after I get back from vacation." She said, "I'd like that."

So I went back to my apartment and Dukey was there and I couldn't stop gushing about this woman that I had met. It was one of those days where you stop and think, "Wow, I really outdid myself this time." And, really, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Something about her face and her smile and her soul filled me with joy. So I cancelled my "vacation" the next week and I took her to lunch and then I took her on a hike on our second date and by our third date she asked me to kiss her (I was going slow so as to not screw it up; too slow, apparently) and I had no choice but to oblige. After all, if you're a career minor leaguer and you get called up to the majors, you don't say "no, thanks."

And here we are, 13 years later, with two fine sons and a foundation from which to live our lives. We're growing old gracefully, for the most part. We put up with each other and our foibles and quirks, we know that our kids are the most important thing in our lives, and we find time to get out once in a while and be a couple. And she's still out of my league. I am a lucky, lucky man.