Our Year of Living Adventurously

I’m sure my wife would agree that when she married me 26 years ago, she had no idea what she was signing up for. Poor woman. But, lucky me.

On that unseasonably cold, early Spring day over two and a half decades ago, standing together in the outdoor gazebo at the Saddleback Inn in Lake Arrowhead, we said our vows before God, my favorite uncle (who just happened to be a Presbyterian minister) and a handful of family members who drove up the winding mountain roads through pea soup fog for the event. Sometime later, as we planned our future plans and dreamed the dreams of the just-married, we promised each other that upon reaching our 25^th anniversary, we would celebrate by taking a trip to Europe, specifically Austria and Switzerland.

Surely by then our kids would be grown and independent. Surely too, my upward career path in the ad biz would have provided enough financial stability by then to afford such a romantic getaway. Surely we would have the time to relax with an overseas trip in celebration of a quarter century of wondrous wedded bliss (we were newlyweds, okay?).

But as Leslie Nielsen once said in the movie, Airplane, “Don’t call me Shirley.” I’m also reminded of the sage Yiddish saying, “Man plans, God laughs.” If so, they must be holding their angelic sides and gasping for air in heaven.

I’m pretty sure we were at least right about our kids. Yes, our four progeny are healthy, independent, wise beyond their years and, for the most part, well on the way to realizing their own dreams of family, faith, careers and a fulfilled life. May it be ever so. Amen and amen.

As to my career? Bwah-hahaha. Chortle. Guffaw. Snort. Titter. That’s a good one. You know that steep, upwardly mobile rise to a creative corner office on Madison Avenue West I mentioned above? It quickly began looking more like a dive off a steep cliff not long after I left the ad (mad) agency world and went freelance nearly 16 years ago.

And so a year ago this week, our 25^th anniversary was upon us and there was no way in financial fantasyland that we would be going on any European adventure. I mean, if we couldn’t afford the gas to drive to San Diego, flying to St. Moritz was absolutely, ridiculously out of the question.

So, instead of letting the 25 year milestone pass like “just” any another anniversary night out with a nice dinner, some flowers and a card –  we decided to celebrate in an unusual way for an entire year – by attempting to complete 25 low cost, semi-local mini “adventures” during the 12 months until our next anniversary. (Yes, ladies, I did the dinner, flowers and card routine, too. I may be challenged in the disposable income department, but I’m not an idiot.)

One year later, how’d we do on our adventure quest? We made a valiant attempt, to be sure. Although we didn’t quite make it to 25, we came awfully close, including making several long bike rides (one as far as 65 miles round trip from Duarte to Long Beach and back), an attempt to summit Mt. Whitney, the highest peak in the continental U.S., cross-country snowshoeing in Mammoth Lakes, hiking to the top of Mt. Baldy, riding with the CV Weekly team on a “float” in the annual Montrose Christmas Parade and quite a few others. It’s been an adventurous year, to say the least.

So, how did my wife and I celebrate our 26^th anniversary this week? Here’s a clue: it wasn’t in the Alps, but it did involve the Matterhorn (which, unfortunately was closed for renovations … arrrghhh!!). And even though the gas to Anaheim cost almost as much as airfare to see the real thing, can you really put a price on true love? (Men, the answer to that one is “Absolutely not!” Got it?)

I’ll see you ‘round town.

Note: This is a repost of my column first published yesterday, 4.12.12, in the Crescenta Valley Weekly newspaper.

© 2012 WordChaser, Inc.

My Wife, Moammar and Me

[Note: This is an expanded version of my column published yesterday in the CV Weekly newspaper http://www.cvweekly.com/.]

Pop question: What was happening in the world 25 years ago this week? Moammar Kadafi (for whatever reason his name is spelled “Gaddafi” today) was in the news for his involvement in the Berlin disco bombing (Will this evil madman Gaddafi ever go away?) and then President Reagan was considering a military strike on Libya.

Speaking of the former President, it was reported this week in April 1986 that he and Nancy would receive a $26,907 refund on their tax return having paid $122,703 in taxes on $394,492 in income the year before. I wonder if they went out and bought a new refrigerator with their refund?

Twenty five years ago this week, the Lakers played their last road game of the season against the Sacramento Kings without star player, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar who was out with a respiratory infection. The same week, the all-girl group, the Bangles were singing about a “Manic Monday,” while Robert Palmer was “Addicted to Love” and the Stones were doing the “Harlem Shuffle.” MGM released the comedy, “Wise Guys,” while the sword & sorcerer film, “Legend” wowed audiences from Glendale, California to Gardiner, Maine.

To be honest with you (aren’t I always?), I don’t remember the above trivia and had to look it up online. You see, I was a little distracted that week by what was happening in my own little world. I was getting married.

Wow, was I a nervous wreck! Having been married once before, you’d think I would have been a bit more calm about the whole process, but quite the opposite was true. The very fact that I’d done it all before and had ultimately failed in the attempt hung over my head like an ominous cloud. What if it happened again? I had a four-year-old daughter whom I’d sworn would never have a broken family. And yet, it happened. I couldn’t imagine going through that heartbreak all over again, much less putting my precious daughter through that emotional stress another time. Second marriages have a bad enough track record, after all. So-called “blended families” are the most difficult to make work, said all the experts. What was I thinking?

But my God is one of second chances, and miraculously, undeservedly, He blessed me with the gift of a wonderful, beautiful, funny, forgiving, caring, patient, loving and gracious woman who came into my life with her own amazing young son in tow. 

Against all odds and common sense, on April 12, 1986, we became an instant family of four. Over the next few years we brought two more awesome boys into the family.

Flash forward to today and I can truthfully say that I feel even more blessed, more loved and happier than I did twenty five years ago. So much so that I felt compelled to acknowledge the fact for the whole world (or at least the entire Crescenta Valley) to know.

Well, that and the fact that  I had promised my dear wife that – upon reaching the milestone of a quarter century together – I would take her on a far flung exotic European vacation to celebrate our many years of wedded bliss. Let me tell you, it sure sounded like a great idea at the time. And certainly do-able. But that was then. The economic reality of now has added that promise to  Then again, having the ability to roll with the rocks that are thrown at you by circumstances, children, parents, health, careers, the economy, friends, the ravages of time, evil foreign dictators and aliens among us is one of the hallmarks of a healthy, happy and ultimately successful marriage.

Still, I wanted to do something more than simply the usual flowers and a card. That’s just SO expected, you know. So, now thousands of people will know of my wife’s plight in putting up with a husband such as me for all these many years. I’m still trying to figure out how to put a gift bow on all the newspapers that are delivered throughout the Crescenta Valley this morning, but at least she won’t have to work off any candy calories this year. Are you overwhelmed by my thoughtfulness yet? Yeah, thought so.

My wife has never, ever so much as hinted that she’s disappointed that we can’t even think about going on such a trip in the foreseeable future – telling me she’ll take a rain check for the romantic getaway … some day … somehow … when my writing career finally takes off. Or when I grow up and get a real job, like working for the government. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

Before I wrap this up, I’d like to indulge in a personal shout out to my wife: Honey, having put up with me for twenty five years, it should come as no surprise at all that I wrote you an anniversary column and somehow managed to mention Moammar Gaddafi, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and the Bangles. Am I the incurable romantic, or what?

Thankfully, ya gotta love me. I’ve got a wedding contract that says so. 

I’ll see you ‘round town.

© 2011 WordChaser, Inc.