Other Stuff

So, facebook just asked me what was on my mind. I wrote approximately the stuff below… and then it crashed when I tried to post it.

*facepalm*

But, let me not be among those who cry over spilt words. Here’s another crack at it, hopefully a bit more permanent.

What’s on my mind, facebook asks?

25 years and a day ago, dinner at Lulu Wellington’s, a Philadelphia restaurant. My mother convinced everyone in the room to light sparklers (provided by her) in the middle of her toast to us. We set off the smoke alarms and the fire department came. It was excellent.

The next day, my beautiful bride, walking across the lawn to me through a crowd of family friends (and a few of our own friends). She looked entirely cool and collected even though the temperature was 104 (40 c). I was bathed in sweat.

The tailcoat I insisted on wearing, despite it being both outdoors and before 6. I said “I’m only getting married once and I am getting married in a tailcoat.” Weirdly I was right, without knowing why.

My dear old dad, who was wearing navy blue socks with his tux. I honestly don’t think he could see the difference. He prevailed upon a whole bunch of our guests to give us cash as a wedding gift so I could buy a vibraphone for $4000. Appropriate? Not really, but it was life changing anyway. Dad did not stand on ceremony.

My mother, who looked happy and bemused the whole time, and her best friend from college Lynn who turned up at the last minute. Also Kim’s mom Carol who looked fantastic, like a proud peacock despite the heat.

Mom’s sister — my aunt — Liz, who dragged herself all the way up from Atlanta in that godawful heat for what reason I do not know except she wanted to support me. I am so grateful she was there.

My brother, my best friend, who arranged the most beautiful song for us and then sang it with my fabulous sister. He was determined to recite the silly Shakespeare sonnet I asked him to recite from memory, and of course he froze in the middle and had to rescue himself with the wedding program that Kim insisted he keep in his pocket just in case. Then rallied and gave the best wedding toast ever.

Our friends, who played the music, gave us our co-bachelor party, and showed up.

Ron and Claire, Kim’s father and stepmother, who made everything happen and made it seem easy. I knew when I first met Ron that we were going to be good friends. I did not know that he would be, after my brother, my closest friend in the world.

And after all that, what’s on my mind? The one I married. Happy anniversary, my only love — here’s to another 25 years.

Today on my 47th birthday I am going to say thanks to Mom and Dad for raising me right (to the extent anyone could have, anyway).

Things I got from Mom:

* My determination to believe, sometimes in the face of the evidence, that people are basically good and that we are all made of the same stuff — put another way, that it is wrong to blame people for their bad circumstances when external forces are almost certainly to blame

* My “What, me worry?” optimism

* My love of animals

* My belief that I can do more or less anything if I put my mind to it

Things I got from Dad:

* My love of music and my musical ability (although I think Mom may actually have a better ear). Some kids get praised for throwing a ball — I didn’t even have a ball, I got praised for singing on pitch. (n.b. if you want your kid to know how to throw a ball, you should get him one and throw it with him.)

* My inclination, tamed by two years of beatings in graduate school but still present, to use five syllables when one would do. Put another way, my love for words and playing with words and everything wonderful about language.

* My intolerance for bad music and bad taste in general. This of course flies in the face of Mom’s proletarianism, which makes for an interesting internal tension.

* My belief that I can do more or less anything if I put my mind to it Mom and Dad fought through some rough years bringing us up, but no matter what they put looking after us first, perhaps to a fault (my memory on this is fuzzy, but I’m fairly certain that Dad, after a long string of defeats, finally lost his partnership at the large lawfirm he was at because he took two weeks off to direct the music for my junior-high-school production of The Mikado, starring me.) I’m only now beginning to really appreciate how difficult that business of putting your kids first can be, as I watch parents around me go through the same traumas Mom and Dad did.

Anyway: Thanks, Mom and Dad. I am a lucky, lucky boy.

… on my flight to Tel Aviv this weekend. I thought about pleading with US Airways that it will be my birthday and I really, really *need* a lie-flat seat and complimentary alcoholic beverages for that 11-hour trip, but I don’t think it would have worked.

The nice thing about US Airways is that it is often possible, for $300 and 30,000 miles, to float yourself into that privileged area up front. I mean look there is no way it’s actually worth $300, but on the other hand I almost always try, so that must mean it actually is worth it by some definition.

The fact that my Quaker grandparents would consider all this insanely self-indulgent is not lost on me. I try not to think about it when I glide serenely past the masses waiting to board coach.