So speaking of becoming a man (as I’ve done the past few blog posts), one of my oldest, dearest friends from college finally tied the knot this past weekend. I say “finally,” because I remember the two of us in Mona’s bar on Avenue B in New York somewhere around 1991. My friend, who we call Fishy, said something about “when he got married some day.”
I expressed surprise. “But how can you be so certain you’ll get married? It seems so unlikely that two people could meet each other and think, ‘Yes, this is someone I could spend the rest of my life together.’ Sure one person could think that, but not two people, not about each other.” The idea was far fetched to me.
Fishy scoffed and said of course we’d both end up married.* I was so certain I wouldn’t marry that I bet him a bottle of scotch that he’d marry first (this was before my bourbon-drinking days).
In March 2001, just after Adam presented me with an engagement ring, I sent Fishy that bottle of scotch.
And Fishy? It took Fishy another fifteen years to seal the deal. I will say, the Fishy Bride was well worth the wait, as I couldn’t imagine someone better suited for him. She’s smarter than him, prettier than him, and generally an excellent human being. Just what he needs. (It’s okay, he can handle this. He’s been taking my abuse since we met in our sophomore year NYU class, Sight & Sound: Video in 1987.)
His wedding was last weekend in Portland, Oregon, and despite it being on the other side of the country, there was no way I was missing it. I had to see the thing with my own eyes to believe it.
What a wedding it was. Voodoo Doughnuts, Salt & Straw ice cream, and a visit from Sasquatch. My only disappointment of the night was that my entire family was in black tie, and I forgot to get a picture of the four of us. But you can see above a shot of most of us with Sasquatch, and if you turn your head and squint, he could sort of look like my husband, so I might try and pass it off as a family photo on the holiday card.
Before we headed to Portland, though, we added on a few days in Seattle. Adam and I haven’t been to Seattle for twelve years, which is crazy considering I went to grad school there, worked there, and we met and married there (no Seattle, no scotch!). A friend from my grad school days, Tom, now owns a wonderful bookstore, Phinney Books, and I asked him if I could read there. He agreed, and the night was amazing, filled with friends from grad school, the neighborhood, and my Amazon days. Reading there was a huge treat, and even more fun was when everyone made his/her way across the street for pizza and drinks. It felt like a mini-launch night all over, seeing so many friends.
We also did the tourist thing with the kids, visiting the EMP, Pike’s Place Market, and splitting up so some could see the Museum of Flight, the Living Computer Museum, the Seattle Art Museum, and the aquarium. Overall it was a superb few days, and I can assure you, we won’t wait another twelve years to get back to the Pacific Northwest.
*Fishy was actually my “If I’m not married” person, as in “If we’re both not married by X age, we’ll marry each other,” though I can’t remember what age it was. Knowing us, it was probably 55 or something. Anyway, I’d say EVERYONE is happier that we each found someone, because we could both safely say if we had married by 55, we would have been divorced by 56, and no one would have gotten any scotch.