Today is my former fiance’s birthday. He would have been close to fifty. Yikes, I can’t imagine him as an older adult. He was such a big Labrador Retreiver of a guy. Funny, goofy, warm, intelligent and talented…I miss him every day.
See, we met when we were both attending college. He was my first real love. Here’s how we met:
I was a little sister at a fraternity (the Animal House on campus) and one of the brothers told me to ‘watch out for these two guys’ and he pointed at two very tall, very muscular guys who were in the process of terrorizing a tiny little slip of a girl in tight Jordache jeans(it was the 80s) and too much makeup. She was also wearing the “Feather Marie” (feather adorned roach clip), which made me laugh. When I saw the genuine fear cross her face, I bounded over to them and slapped them both on their rock hard arms and said, ‘Leave her alone or else!’ I had no clear idea what my ‘or else’ was going to be, but I was steamed.
At the time, I was wearing my grandpa’s Tufnut overalls and an Army fatigue hat which was covered with badges, buttons and goodness knows what all. I looked sorta like a combination of a punk rock Minnie Pearl and Grace Jones, I guess. Anyway, my man looked down at me, laughed and said, ‘Really? What’s in your bag of tricks, Felix?’
It was love at first sight. He referenced Felix the cat. I looked into those blue eyes and I swear I could see forever. It was strange. I remember the song that was playing. It was “Take the Money and Run” by Steve Miller. Not particularly significant to either of us, but I remember it anyway. So, I smiled up at him and told him that I knew the Master Cylinder and it was as if we’d known one another forever. The girl ran away like she was on fire. Paul, my man’s best friend told me later that I had shown tremendous courage, since both he and Bob, let’s call him were laying for a fight. It would have been impossible for me to keep them from creating a train wreck. They were both well over six foot and well muscled. What did we talk about that night?
The Who, politics, my hat, hockey, everything but how hard my heart was beating. I didn’t know that he had a girlfriend and he didn’t know that I’d really never had a boyfriend. He invited me back to his place some thirty minutes away. Like a sap, I went. He could have been a nutjob. Fortunately he wasn’t. We sat up listening to music and watching cartoons. I fell asleep with my head in his lap. We were seldom apart. He called me one day to tell me that he didn’t want to be friends anymore.
My heart sank to my ankles. I was speechless. Then he asked me out on a ‘proper’ date.
We went to A&W for hotdogs and rootbeer. Both of us spiked ours with vodka.
Paul was waiting for us at the apartment and again, we stayed up listening to music and talking, talking, talking…and laughing. A LOT.
Even though I’m nearly six feet tall, he made me feel like I was a porcelain doll…he made me feel girly and delicate. That’s no mean feat. He got that I wasn’t fully aware of what was happening and he understood that I wasn’t about to jump into bed with him. (How things have changed in that regard)
Well, we fell in love so easily and so comfortably that it seemed logical that we become engaged a couple of months later. I even showed my ring to his ex. She wasn’t angry. He was that kind of guy. A better standup kinda guy you’d be hardpressed to find.
There’s a line in ‘A Bronx Tale’ when Chazz Palmintieri tells ‘C’ that you only get a couple great ones in your life. He had gotten his early–I feel the same way.
‘Bob’ died of a cerebral aneurysm before we could get married. Yikes, right? That’s life.
It’s for the living.
So, today I’m gonna listen to Van Morrison (one of our songs was ‘Crazy Love’), our band The Who, read some Burns and watch ‘Slap Shot’, our favorite movie.
If you ever watch hockey, say a prayer for the Rangers. He loved ‘em.