Today's Post is Brought To You By The Number 14

...because today is my 14th wedding anniversary. And while I love my Hubby loads, and all - I am too tired to write a new glowing tribute to the man. And, I am kind of bummed that I wrote this one last year at the same time while Hubby and I were on vacation. In Hawaii. Without the children. Alone. {sigh}

Hence the rerun post. Still a good one though. Happy 14th Dootie ;)

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Tuesday, October 7, 2008
The One Where Sally Met Her Harry.....

* A note from Swirl Girl: While you are all no doubt reading this with baited breath - to see what little pearls of joy I am about to unleash upon all of you...Hubby and I are, no doubt, elbow deep in some frothy tropical beverage on the island of Kauai celebrating a much needed real live vacation and our 13th Anniversary. Aloha!

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I went to summer camp in New Hampshire for practically every summer as a kid until I was 14 years old. Overnite camp - for one or two months. That is what we did back east. That is what everyone did back east.

Anyway - back in the summer of 1972, I was a mere 6 years old and went to this sleep away camp. It was really a great experience with all the trappings that summer camp had to offer.
I met a boy named David Goldstein. He was a much older boy. Maybe 7 or 8. His older brother was named Steven and he was there to. Steven had this distinct , almost broadcaster type of voice with the ever slightest whistley sound when he said his 'esses'. Very distincive.

Well, that David was what I would call my first boyfriend. We sat together at the Saturday night movies in the rec hall, holding hands and sharing a pillow as we lay on the cold concrete floor. (they actually showed Wait Until Dark and The Birds to a bunch of kids!) I chased and caught him on Sadie Hawkins day and he danced with me all night long . He sat patiently while I auditioned for a part in the Junior dance show. We danced at Prom, and sent little paper candle boats out onto the lake on the last night of camp after the banquet. This David was from a town not too far from where I lived. All winter we would write notes to each other. He would sign his name and then write Shalom in hebrew letters , enclosing a few chocolate pennies in each wet, sloppy envelope.

That David and I were camp boyfriend and girlfriend for many summers after that. And, then I stopped going to camp. Eventually the letters stopped coming. Life went on.

Fast forward to 1984, when I was in college, I had a summer job as a plant tender for a company named Baugh Haus (don't you just love that name?). I would go from office to office on my appointed route and water, trim, shine and care for the office plants. I met a lot of interesting people. One day , in an office in Newton , MA - I heard a voice. There was ever the slightest
whistley sound when this very distinct voice was speaking. I looked at the name plate and it was him - that David's brother Steven! We spoke for a while catching up. That David had gone out west to pursue his life ...blah, blah, blah.

Fast forward to summer 1991. I had moved to Florida a few year prior. Livin' off my parents and working in a bar and having waaaay too much fun. ( and since my mom reads this and is at my home taking care of my kids - let's just leave the waaaaay too much fun part at that - 'kay?) I finally got a real job working for a wine and liquor distributor and had to call on my first account. It was a total disaster. The General Manager of this mall restaurant hated my company and the previous sales rep and my supervisor. Great first day on the job. I hated this guy and he was a total dick to me. He practically threw me out. Thank god my boss who was, BTW, also a total dick, made me go back in and get an order from this guy. I did. And it was a good thing I did. Within a few weeks, I had secured the no-name well brand liquor, the entire wine list, and had sold this guy on a series of very successful money making promotions (there was one particular promotion involving butterscotch pudding and JB scotch shooter if you can imagine- but again, my mom reads this....). We soon became fast friends. I sort of set up shop in his tiny office. In those days, we actually used telephones to patch our orders into the big computers at the distributor. I would start the week with a roll of quarters and use pay phones. It saved me time and money to use this guys little office, plus he fed me while I was there. It was just assumed by all of his employees that we were going out. It was that comfortable.

We did everything together outside of work. I met his brother Steven who lives in NYC and all of his friends. We were best friends. We each would share each other dating horror stories. He came to my parents place for all the holidays. Everyone would ask about us and our answer was 'we are just friends'. My sister even said "you're gonna marry that guy" one night while partying at his bar. I said, "no way we are just friends, best of friends."

Fast forward to summer 1992. Hurricane Andrew swept south Florida with devastating results. We camped out together. Surveyed the damage the next day. Right after the hurricane, he lost his job at the restaurant and spent several weeks borrowing on his years in the restaurant business. He gathered donations of food , ice, water, sanitary supplies and a truck and made umpteen trips to the storm territories. We had no cell phones in those days...so when he went down south of Miami , into the National Gaurd territory - it was scary. But I was so proud of his selflessness.

Fast forward a few months. He gets a job working for Kenny Rogers Roasters (remember the Sienfeld episode with the neon sign??) He was in field operations and travelled non-stop for about 3 months. Again, no cell phones. No day to day contact. I missed my best friend. When he finally came back we went to dinner and realized that we were more than just best friends. Neither of us wanted to go another day without knowing where the other one was or what the other one was doing. And, just like in the movie - we started 'dating' ...right there on my apartment couch.

Fast forward about a year... everyone of his friends told him that it was time to shit or get off the pot. We had been dating for a long time already and where was it going? "She's not going to wait around forever" "Don't let this one go, dude" "She's your best friend and can drink like a guy! How much more perfect can she be?" (adapting reality for the dramatic here) In other words, dude - take the plunge.

So- just like in the movie...he ran 14 blocks to meet me on New Year's Eve to tell me he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me...oh wait, that was the movie...

This David Goldstein (whose brother Steven does not have a whistley sound when he says his 'esses') proposed to me while I was getting my nails done with champagne and flowers and a beautiful ring! I was surprised. Nobody else was.

Everyone but the two of us knew we were kindred spirits. If you believe that some people were meant to be - that would be us. There are so many sort of 'no way' or ' you are kidding me ' moments in our lives. Here's a few:

It turns out that his stepfather and my Aunt were 'sandbox sweethearts' . They have known each other for over 60 years and speak to each other every birthday. Still.

Our grandma's were in the same sewing circle or something like that, back in New Jersey -back in the day.

His cousin was best man at my cousin's wedding. His Providence R.I. relatives are friends with my Providence R.I. relatives. Still.

- and let's not forget the whole that David Goldstein with whistley brother Steven and this David Goldstein with non-whistley brother Steven first boyfriend thing.

Call it fate, kismet, magical, mystical or spiritual - tonight marks our 13th year married.

Who said 13 was an unlucky number?

Certainly not this Sally. So I tap you on the shoulder and ask you this question:

Wanna do it again for another week, Harry?
Happy Anniversary, dude.
Aloha and I Love You.