Go West Old Men: A Travel Memoir. Part 5

Toroweap Overlook, Grand Canyon National Park

One Ring to Bind Them

This is Part 5 of the story, follow these links to see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Vanessa and I dated my senior year at Asbury.

This is a true story. I had a couple of significant leadership positions in student government. A certain professor that I love dearly, and who I will not name, always encouraged the gentlemen to have a date to all of the main campus events. I am told that on a certain women’s hall when the community phone was answered the question was “who is he calling for this time?”

At the end of my junior year, one of my best friends and I rode home from the student leadership banquet with the college President, Dennis Kinlaw, and his wife, Elsie. Mrs. Kinlaw was known to be faithful in praying for the students.

As they let me out in front of my dorm, Mrs. Kinlaw asked “Mike are you dating anyone?”

“No, Ma’am.”

“Then I’ll pray for you.”

Back on campus for my senior year, I was at the homecoming banquet with a young woman. Vanessa was playing piano as background music. I’m pretty sure the dress she was wearing was green, but we have disagreements over those subtle blue-green colors. She had a flower in her hair. I believe it was yellow. I am not making this up, my heart skipped a beat.

We dated later that quarter and became something of an item that winter quarter. Then I got cold feet and called it off. There’s no real reason. I was twenty-one and stupid. That’s what twenty-one year old boys do. Stupid things.

Vanessa had another year or so to go in school, so we would see each other when I would return for campus visits. Occasionally I would see her elsewhere. She had family in town and once our church went to a revival service in North Carolina. She joined us for dinner afterwards. She’ll have to tell you how weird that whole experience was.

We both know that, if I’d stayed at the home church, we would never have been together. That would have been wrong.

After I moved away and worked my second campaign, I went down to North Carolina to see the same friends I had worked with on the congressional race. They were running another race out of Winston-Salem. On New Year’s Day, Vanessa had an open house for several friends. I visited and, while there was no green dress or flower in her hair, I was smitten.

We began to correspond on a regular basis. In the meantime, I accepted a job in Washington, DC working for an association of state legislators. Vanessa told me she would like to visit for spring break. I hatched a plan.

Actually, I hatched it, and my entire office helped me to plan it. I proposed to her under the cherry blossoms at the Jefferson Memorial. We set our wedding date for November.

That’s where Scott comes back into the story. He was to be my best man.

We were on a budget and paying for most of this ourselves. So we planned a simple southern wedding. Only ten attendants of either side. When you wait a few years to get married, you have more and more people from significant points in your life that you want to share in that special day.

Finally the day came. We were at the church and the prelude had begun. The pastor wanted to pray with me and with Scott before the ceremony. Just before he did, Greg, another dear friend that we lost to a dreadful rare blood disease some years back, came in to join us. I was touched that he wanted to join in the prayer.

What I didn’t know was that Scott had left the rings at the hotel. His wife made a mad rush back to find them and delivered them to Greg just before things began. Greg joined us for prayer. But as he put his arm around me, he passed the rings to Scott. I didn’t know until after the service.

Partially thanks to Scott and Greg, Vanessa and I are still married some thirty-seven years later.

And we’re still pretty darn cute.

 

 

Available on Amazon.

Well, That’s One

Photo by Uitbundig on Unsplash

We’ve come to the end of the first month of the year. No, that’s not the least bit profound.

It’s just a measurement of time.

Speaking of which, it was a long month. It feels a little like January the seventy-tooth.

Still, we’re about to flip the page on the calendar and it’s a good time to assess how we’re doing.

I’ve written a lot about clearing stuff out. Mainly my home office. And about saying no to the many things that want to take my time.

That’s a work in progress. I missed, or will be missing, two auditions for upcoming shows which happen to be among my favorites. I plan to see them from the audience.

I’ve been accepting the fact that I need to spend more time on the writing and art.

I’m being flexible (one of my three words), and making adjustments.

I’m also working to be creative (word two) with my writing and art.

Finally, on the three word list, I remain concerned, but am guarding against becoming so concerned I go off on a tangent and waste my time tilting against the windmills of my mind.

I am nothing, if not skilled in cross mixing cultural references.

I digress.

The playoff games over last weekend determined that the San Francisco 49ers and the Kansas City Chiefs will play in Super Bowl LVIII on February 11th.

I’m not a fan of either team. I’m also not influenced by Taylor Swift.

Calm down. I don’t dislike her or her boyfriend. I’m just not a fan. Your opinion and musical tastes may vary, and that’s just fine.

I haven’t really cared about a Super Bowl in years.

I’m a former Washington Redskins fan. I lost interest in their bad years, and then they had to go and change their name. Unnecessary if you ask me (and a lot of Native Americans), but whatever. I just can’t get behind the Commanders.

To be completely honest, the only football team I care about these days is Virginia Tech. And I’ll always smile when I hear that the Giles Spartans have won.

The last time I really cared about the Super Bowl was in 1994 in Atlanta. The Dallas Cowboys beat the Buffalo Bills.

I was in the audience cheering for the Bills. Mainly because I was also there working for Jack Kemp, a former Bills player, a former Congressman, and, at that point in time, a potential candidate for President.

In the end, Jack decided not to run and ended up two years later being the Vice Presidential candidate when Bob Dole was the nominee. We all know how that went.

We lost Jack to cancer several years back. I still miss him. I still feel the honor that it was to have worked for him, even briefly.

The last time San Francisco and Kansas City played in the Super Bowl was 2020.

Then the world shut down.

Then we had to choose between Donald Trump and Joe Biden for the White House.

Y’all. What are we doing?

This movie wasn’t good the first time.

Despite Negative Reviews, ‘Trump Vs. Biden’ Renewed For Second Season
The Babylon Bee
U.S. — Though its first season was branded a massive disappointment by viewers and critics alike, Trump Vs. Biden has shockingly been renewed for a second season.

We could fix this.

Of course we won’t.

We have eleven months left in the year.  Use them wisely.

 

Available on Amazon.