The title is one of my most favorite shows in the whole entire world – one that I had the honor of actually co-directing AND THEN MEETING THE FREAKING PLAYWRIGHT/LYRICIST/COMPOSER of – but perhaps is a bad choice of title since it begins with the two characters divorcing.
So today. Five years. Five years ago, today, in a day with weather very much like today .. cool, bright, crisp .. we stood in front of a lot of folks that we loved and we made promises to eachother and there was an exchange of jewelry.
Then we got everyone drunk, including the kids.
OH, FUNNY STORY, THAT. Yeah, our caterer – who was AWFUL, from beginning to end, not to mention that she kept guests waiting FOR HOURS on her food – did not fully grasp the concept that we needed a non-alcoholic drink for some guests. Including 1) the children and 2) the groom’s family, who does not drink. Then, SURPRISE, we got the bill and were charged for a Rum Fruit Punch. Whiiiiiich suddenly explained why all the children (including my six year old stepson) had “fallen asleep” at the reception.
And if I look back at the last five years, they’re all similar to that. Not so much with the unknowing intoxication of minors, but with everything being so perfectly penned into a story. And I think that’s been the most fun part.
Bryan is out of town today, and was last night, and as we were talking he was telling me the story of getting a haircut yesterday. For most people, that’s a non-event, but for us? We like to take a more dangerous route. No MasterClips here, oh no. He sought out some place off-the-map, a place that “catered to men” and offered massages. Because we’re not afraid, and we’re always looking for a good story to tell.
(His stylist’s name was Ola, and she had man-hands and a sinus infection, if you were curious.)
I’ve been contemplating what to write here, what sweeping summation of love and devotion the five year mark should warrant, but in reality, I can’t. How do you sum up five YEARS of something? Births, deaths, houses, cars, shows, seasons. It’s just too much. And I would inevitably leave out SOMETHING.
So, here. The number Five seems too small and unencompassing of all that’s happened, of all that we’ve grown to become. Maybe by Year Ten, I’ll have a summary or an epilogue or something.
But until then, the daily stories? Make life worth living, Bryan. Thank you for the stories.