Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Can You Come Hook Up My VCR?

My very first date with my husband was 23 years ago today.  We met through a mutual friend who lived across the street from him.  She phoned me up and said, "I know this guy who would be perfect for you."  At the time, I was casually dating a guy that I really didn't like, but he had money which appealed to my very materialistic 21 year old self.  My friends were all either getting married or in long-term relationships, and they were constantly trying to hook me up with all kinds of guys.  

I told my friend that I wasn't interested.  I had just moved into my own apartment a few weeks earlier - a one-bedroom apartment in an old house that had been renovated into four apartments.  My rent was $270 a month which included heat.  You could stand in one spot and see the entire apartment.  But, it was cute and affordable - I was probably making about $575 a month at the time.  And since I already had Mr. Money hanging around, I didn't see any reason to complicate matters.  

One Tuesday night, my friend called and asked me to go out for Chinese food.  She asked that I pick her up, and when I showed up, there was the guy who would become my husband.  The very first time I saw him, I heard a voice in my head say, "It's you" and a sound that sounded like a door shutting.  I wasn't raised to believe in reincarnation, but I have always believed that I knew my husband in a previous life.  It has always felt that way to me.  

We went to the Chinese restaurant, chatted, and then returned to my friend's apartment.  From then on, every time I would go over to her apartment, she would find some excuse to call him.  She gave him my phone number, and he called me up.  I thought he was cute, so I unhooked my VCR from my TV and asked him if he could come over and hook it up for me.  He did.  Not long after that, he called and asked if I would like to go out for dinner and a movie.  Of course, I did.  

He picked me up in his green 1972 Dodge Coronet with a smashed-up fender.  We went to see "Out of Africa" and then out for pizza at a little pizzeria not far from my apartment.  On the way home, I slid over to sit right next to him in the front seat.  And that is how my good fortune all started over Chinese food and a VCR.  

Oh, and I ditched the other guy.  He was constantly watching "Miami Vice" tapes on his Betamax, and he lived in his parents' basement.  He was an obsessive neat freak who would always arrange my magazines in an insipid fan pattern.  It would've never lasted.  

So, today's post is dedicated to my husband.  He willingly signed up to be my partner in this crazy life of ours.  We argue over bath towels.  He puts up with me not always finishing my sentences.  He gave up trying to figure me out years ago.  He makes fun of my cooking disasters.  We each think the other is high maintenance.  He gets frustrated because I don't always finish projects.  I wish he would actually put the clothes IN the hamper.  He must love me an awful lot, but it would still be less than I love him.  And I make fantastic omelettes.  He loves omelettes.  

Here's a video that quite accurately depicts how I have felt this past year and how my husband has helped me through it.  So, honey, if you're reading this, this one is for you . . . 

"Cuz I love you more than I could ever promise, And you take me the way I am."  Lyrics from "The Way I Am" by Ingrid Michaelson

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