Tuesday, December 28, 2010


My wife and I were married thirty-eight years ago... tomorrow.

We got hitched at the police station, in the office of the Justice of Peace.  The wedding party consisted of six people: my best man and his wife, the maid of honour and her boyfriend, and of course me & the missus.

We were all broke.  (The week before, I had to borrow fifteen bucks off my best man for the licence.)  We informed our parents after the fact.

The wedding dinner was lasagna and beer.  Lots of beer.

Nobody owned a car.  We walked to and from in knee-deep snow.  Someone brought a couple of joints.  Everyone was happy.  (After all, Canada had defeated the Russkies in the show-down series a few weeks earlier.)

And so it goes....

A little more slowly these days.  But it goes.

Happy Anniversary, my dear.


Gorilla Bananas said...

I reckon that's the best way to do it. Weddings are just an embarrassing circus.

Doctorboogaloo said...

Agreed, 100%.