Need One More

Depending on you read this, one could say that Elaine and I celebrated our forty-ninth wedding anniversary this past week. Not our fiftieth, just our forty-ninth. People will say the forty-ninth is a big deal but I'm here to tell you there wasn't much to celebrate. We ended up going to dinner by ourselves, not on our anniversary date, but close.

That said, after forty-nine years, I feel I should tell a story about how it all got started. I was working as a home builder/carpenter making plenty of money (for myself). Elaine? Elaine was a full-time student, being supported by a scholarship, her parents, a part-time job, and too a very small part, me. When I said I had plenty of money, I was making enough not buy a new car every ten months. (Not a new used car, a brand-new car) Elaine's car was not new and actually given to her by her dad. A '71 Volkswagen super beetle.

Elaine and I decided to get married during her senior year of college (even if it meant I gave up my new car habit.) I didn't exactly give up on my new car habit; I just traded off my latest new car (a semi-customed pickup) and bought a more practical new car for Elaine. Love will make you drive an old Volkswagen, no matter how bad it looks to your work mates.

Next year, with all the pomp and circumstance I plan on forgetting the Volkswagen and my pickup. I just need one more year. (I think).

If I sound a little bitter, I've promised not to carry it past fifty years. One more year!

One more thing, I know where that pickup is today. (I'm serious, I could drive to see it in the driveway where it's parked.)

One more year, I will get it or forget it.

God Bless, Love ya somethings are best forgotten

Our crazy lives!

Monner