Author's note: I previously submitted this as a blog last year. I went back to read it to see if there was anything else I could say about this. Imagine how delighted I was to find that I covered this area beautifully in that blog. Indeed, trying to best that would be like Vanilla Ice trying to cover an Eric Clapton song. Read on dear friend, but you may want some tissues handy. It gets kind of poignant there at the end.
At this point, you have all seen mention of the lovely missus in the blog. The time has come to share with you the beginning of the greatest love story ever told. Judy and I met online (God bless the internet). It is always comical to see the reaction when we tell people this; the 'old raised eyebrow, look of mock surprise, and the usually uttered, "Really?"
What does that mean; "Really?" Do you think I'm lying? Every once in a while, just to throw them off, I'll say, "No, actually I was gigiloing for bus fare back to Kansas, and she made an honest man out of me. Just in time, too. I had already gone through most of the nearsighted, geriatric nymphos in the greater metro area." (Note to anyone who goes to my church: this is satire. This did not really happen, nor do I condone the exploitation of nearsighted, geriatric nymphos.)
We met on the now defunct "Liquid Lounge" on the Fox 103.5 website. Not to get to specific, but I was basically honest. Like hockey, outdoors, and movies. Not afraid to make a jackass of myself. Hers was similar and we started corresponding by email. This went on for a couple of months. After some provocatively worded exchanges involving Winnie the Pooh characters, we decided it was time to meet. However, first we would exchange pictures over the net.
Moral dilemma. Send the most recent picture, or send the "best" picture? Those of you who've done this know what I'm talking about. You have that one from three years ago where you look really the good, the light was just right, and you had one chin. Being single, the best recent picture I had was one of me dressed up as Mr. Hanky the Christmas Poo for Halloween. Thinking this would not cut it, I used my old standby: the sweet-mullet, mom-and-dad, college graduation picture. It had it all. Something reasonably close to a tan, weighed under two bills, family values. What's not to love?
Judy followed suit with a-light-was-just-right (but then her light is always just right. Pay attention here gents. You might just learn something.), family values picture of her own. Properly stoked, we were ready to meet. Now anyone knows in the freak-stalk-normal-citizen world of internet dating, you always bring your own transport and meet in neutral territory. In the war of love, our Switzerland was the Westminster Promenade AMC 24.
As first words go, hers were priceless. "You don't look like your picture." Okay, so the picture was ten years old. Surely, I hadn't changed that much. I can't really remember exactly how I responded, but it was probably something like, "Well, you look exactly like yours - beautiful." If you have your B.S. meter on right now, it is most certainly pegged. You see I wrote her that the picture was from 1989, but she thought I wrote 1999. She was expecting the young, vibrant, the-world-is-ahead-of-him-Bill, not well-traveled, the-world-has-kicked-him-in-the-butt-a-few-times Bill.
It was kind of loosey-goosey for the movie. We decided to meet, see what was playing, and make our choice there. We of course chose the fantastic date movie, "Being John Malchovich." We talked after the movie about what a good movie it was. Later, after we had been living together for a while (in sin; Please don't tell my mom.), we caught it again on cable. Now I don't recall either of us being medicated on that first date, but that particular movie, on second viewing, was disturbing and not just a little bit freakish.
I attribute the initial kindness of our review to the fact that both of us were thinking of everything but the movie as we were watching it. We had an interesting dynamic as we had been writing for two months. We have a lot in common. Basically she is me, only beautiful and with bigger breasts.
You know the drill men. Send out the probes. Where do I put my hand? Around the shoulder? Nah, the seat's not right. She looks uncomfortable. Thigh? She's not taking it away! Thigh good; like thigh. Higher...lower? Just leave it in the middle, perv. It's the first date. You'd be surprised how fast a two hour movie goes by when you're thinking about this stuff.
Needless to say, this was the beginning of a great love affair that continues to this day. Sometimes I like to think this was the beginning of my life. All the other things simply led me to this point. In some ways, it seems we've known each other forever, yet each day always seems bright and new and never routine. I end with my personal favorite quote from Karate Kid II, with your kind permission Jaredsan. "If I am dreaming, let me never wake. If I am awake, let me never sleep."