i may have misled some, if not all of you, who are Facebook friends. My post a couple of days ago of the two of us at the Wine Vault and Bistro was not for this anniversary. It was from two years ago.
Today is the date of our anniversary, number thirty-seven if you are counting. We played golf at Maureen’s request and will be going to our other go-to dining for special occasions, The Rose, a wine bar with wonderful pupus, which we consider meals, exceptionally wonderful meals.
i won’t go into a great deal of information about the details of what led to this date, thirty-seven years ago. i was going to repost the story of how we met, but i’ve worn that a bit thin.
i’m not going to tell you about the first time i opened the door for her to sit in my Rx7, my proudest possession, and how she laughed at the Scottish plaid inserts in the seats.
i’m not going to tell you our first real date was going to see John Lee Hooker at the Belly Up Tavern, and our second date two nights later was going to see Doc Watson at the same wonderful venue.
i’m not going to tell you how our first summer was spent with week and weekend nights being almost totally dedicated to fine dining in many places.
i’m not going to tell you when i took her home after those dinners, i would have on rock or jazz, which she would change to the classical music station and immediately fall asleep for the rest of the ride home.
i’ll just let you have a taste of what it was like at 1385 Taft Street in Lemon Grove, California in her father’s backyard, including catering by the upper crust of San Diego catering Maureen had picked. It was in the 90’s. There was no real breeze as there usually was on that hill. It got a little raucous and fun. i won’t go into that part right now. i may add some of those photos later.
But for now, let’s just concentrate on a beautiful lady, inside and out, who, i am convinced is the only lady who could have possibly put up with me for thirty-seven years.
i am a lucky man.
Happy Anniversary, my love.