50 Years

The year was 1970. I was dating a young lady named Lisa, and I asked her to the prom. She said yes. She was radiant in white, and my black tuxedo pants were perhaps 3 inches too short. I got several comments about wearing "flood pants."

The year was 1971. Lisa was radiant in yellow, and I wore a green velour jacket that looked like it had just lived a great life as a set of curtains.

The year was 1972. Lisa looked beautiful in blue, but my blue velour jacket was probably 2 sizes too big, I mean "Rodney Dangerfield" big.

The year was 1973, May of 1973. I desperately wanted to wear another rented tux, but there was no prom to go to. Lisa was in nursing school and I got a job at the post office. But...the tux. "Will you marry me?" She said yes.

We went to a local steakhouse and split a dinner. A classmate of Lisa's came up to talk to us, and we told him about our anniverary. When we asked for the bill, our waiter said..."Your bill has been taken care of. Congratulations on your 50 years."

We confronted the classmate, but he denied paying it, but he was smirking. I even jokingly called him a liar. Come to find out, our daughter Karen snuck into the restaurant and paid for our dinner. How nice.

Back to my bride of 50 years. She is a wonderful wife, mother, and person who makes it easy for people to love her...especially me. A special time (a long time) with a special woman.

Here's to 50 more! HA!