One More Time

Posted in Mixed Nuts on April 9th, 2012 by MadDog
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Not being satisfied with marrying once in October, Gracie and I repeated the whole thing for a larger audience on Palm Sunday.  We originally planned for a wedding on April first, exercising our powerful mutual sense of humor, so that our children would be able to attend. However, last fall we decided to settle some practical matters having to do with marital status and married in a small outdoor ceremony at Beaver Creek near our home in The Village of Oak Creek. We realized at the time that the job was only half finished.

Our neighbor across the street, Laura Ridley and her friend Lynn Trombetta provided calming music to soothe the mild jitters associated with a wedding ceremony. Laura’s harp is a beautiful antique.

Loading it into her van using the special handling equipment she has constructed was a new experience for me. It reminded me of an adventure in Montana when my friends and I loaded an upright piano into a Volkswagen van for a long trip from Helena to Glendive.

Gracie ambled bravely up the aisle unaccompanied and stood while I awaited my marching orders. There was no rehearsal, so the ceremony was delightfully ad-lib.

When we finally got it sorted out where I should be we stood patiently waiting for the call to come forward.

And waited some more.

Meanwhile, kids were looking bored.

Finally, the serious business began in a very casual manner.

I tried unsucessfully to put Gracie’s tri-metal wedding bands on her wrong hand, causing twitters from the onlookers. Gracie muffed her lines during her vows, prompting us both to giggle. Most weddings are not so much fun.

Scott was in full voice for his pronouncements and admonitions which sounded strangely familiar.

Montezuma Chapel on Rusty Spurs Road in Rimrock, Arizona is about as exotic as it gets in these parts.

Unpretentious on the outside, the inside is impressive and inspiring, having the appearance of a wooden cathedral.

The official pronouncement having been pronounced, we beat a hasty retreat. Friends standing with us, Vearle and Dodie Franklin make way to avoid being trampled.

Happy that we won’t likely be doing this again for a few years, we make our way to the exit.

And make our escape.

We received our guests at Vintages Grille in Rimrock.

The staff there put on an excellent feed and provided for every need.

They also provided one of the best chocolate cakes I’ve ever tasted.

The decorations appeared on our first wedding cake, Micky Mouse riding a surf board and a plastic palm tree shading Minnie while she admires her boyfriend. I wonder if Gracie’s expression has more to do with chocolate than marriage?

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More Blasts from the Past – 47 Years Together

Posted in Humor on July 7th, 2009 by MadDog
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Eunie and I met the week before the first day of classes at college. It was 1962. JFK was president. The world was a calmer place, except for the pesky Russians. School started in September. By December, I’d asked Eunie to marry me. She turned me down. I believe that she thought that I was insane.

This is how we looked in Springfield at her parents’ house in 1963:

Did I really look this goofy?

That Christmas, I decided that I wanted to send cards to my friends showing what a lucky guy I was. It was pretty presumptuous, considering there was no “Yes” yet on the marriage issue. Eunie’s mother was disconcerted that her daughter was sending Christmas cards picturing her being fondled by a madman:

Merry Christmas from the kids

Or, rather, (worse?) a mad teenager.

The Big Yes finally came through and in June of 1964 this child bride was wed to the crazy person:

Eunie - the Child Bride

I like to call this shot “Children Getting Married”:

Children Getting Married

Settling into married life was surprisingly easy. I think that we had so much fun playing at being all grown up that we missed a lot of the troubles that were lurking in the corners. Fortunately, Eunie was the typical young woman – way ahead of the average male her age in terms of maturity. I was bouncing off the walls while she made a home for us.

Here’s another shot taken at her sister’s house:

Happiness is a groovy chick and cowboy boots

Note particularly the cowboy boots. I’d never been anywhere near a horse in my life, but I needed those cowboy boots.

Playing adult was fun. Somehow, I missed the actual transition and my development stopped somewhere in my early twenties. I sometimes seriously contemplate how I got so old. I don’t feel  65. This is how I still look inside:


We were ambitious spelunkers. I can remember many cold winter weekends when we escaped the weather to explore the caves of southern Indiana.

Because, after all these years, she’s still so nice to me and still my best friend, I’m plagiarising here for your entertainment E. E. Cummings famously erotic poem She Being Brand. (complete with Cummings’ original idiosyncratic punctuation and phrasing)

she being Brand

-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my

lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like
greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

avenue i touched the accelerator and give

her the juice,good


was the first ride and believe i we was
happy to see how nice she acted right up to
the last minute coming back down by the Public
Gardens i slammed on

brakes Bothatonce and

brought allofher tremB
to a:dead.


Enough said.

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