I bless the day I found you

Cheesing at Wegman's yesterday.


Thursday, June 21, 1973. My friends Sam and Maura introduced me to Peggy so that I could show up for Sam's birthday party properly accompanied for once.


When I met Peggy that evening, I looked at her and said to myself, this is the woman I will marry. But, displaying the sangfroid that has made me the envy of nervous types on several continents, I wisely kept my own counsel on that for a while. After all, blurting out, "Will you marry me?" upon meeting someone seems so, I don't know, insane?


So we all hung out that night, and on Friday we went to the party, and on Saturday I went back to work as a radio DJ down on the Eastern Shore. On Sunday night, I got back to my tiny little apartment and could not sleep. As an inveterate watcher of the Andy Griffith Show, I knew what to do when you love someone ("the polite thing is to marry 'em right back!") so I called Peggy at 3 in the morning and asked her to marry me. She said, "Sure." So I figure, our blind date really has never ended.


Following a whirlwind courtship, (I had always wanted one of them, so we arranged with the Rent-A-Whirlwind people to lease one for five months) we were married on Saturday, December 8, 1973 - the date chosen, of course, to coincide with Sammy Davis, Jr.'s 48th birthday.


That makes today our 35th anniversary! And what a joy I feel to think about it. 35 years! People talk about the 70s, the 80s, the 90s, and we spent them together! The years have come and gone, but the love we felt 35 years ago grows stronger every single day.


We've never had one moment of "marital difficulty." Peggy forgave me for the time I ruined a kitchen countertop with one of those pre-microwave devices that you stuck in water to heat a cup for tea, and after some soul-searching, I found a way to forgive Peggy for saying, in 1984, "Well, Reagan hasn't done THAT bad a job."


Truth to tell, I would as soon celebrate our anniversary on June 21, but that day is inevitably hot and humid and not too celebration-worthy because of the weather. Every December 8, I am almost tempted to rent another tuxedo and throw another wedding.


Peggy has many dozens of good qualities, and what's best about them all is how they complement my qualities. I love to shop for groceries and Peggy seems to feel that grocery stores are just to go to in order to find and purchase groceries (go figure!). I love to cook. Peggy loves a clean, straight house and keeps ours neat as a pin. I don't have any other good qualities beyond cooking and being able to reach stuff on the top shelves, but Peggy doesn't mind. We have fun rooting through antiques (in antique stores or in my sock drawer) and we get a real boot this time of year from loading up the pick'em up truck with some Christmas CDs and riding around looking at people's outdoor light displays. You can't name a Christmas variety TV show that we won't watch and thoroughly enjoy together, and we each have our favorite TV giveaway show: "The Price Is Right" for me, and "Oprah" for her. And, for crying out loud, we both love anchovies!



Now and again, a young couple will ask us how our marriage has avoided the rocky shoals of breakup, separation, divorce and gunfire that have marked the relationships of so many others (Guy and Madonna, Jennifer and Brad, Kneel and Pray), and the first thing I tell them is to get rid of jealousy, as it is the most destructive force to any relationship, to my mind. The second thing I tell them is that "Rocky Shoals" was, coincidentally, one of my on-air names back in the day (as were "Oliver Clothesoff" and "Heywood Jahugmi.") At a conservative estimate, 90% of my friends are female, yet Peggy never ever worries that I am up to any out-of-house macking. (As IF!) And for those who say that others tell them not to rush into marriage ("Married in haste, repent at leisure" - William Congreve, 1693), I say, "The heart wants what the heart wants." (Woody Allen, 1993.)


My heart wants Peggy. We have laughed together for 35 years. Even after the briefest of times apart in malls, medical offices and family gatherings, my heart still skips that same old beat when I glimpse her again. We talk on the phone a couple of times per workday and look forward to time together every evening. I am not like most people - some will tell you that there ain't another like me this side of Bedlam - but I go to bed every night giving thanks to God for 35 years of a lovely love, and humbly asking for 35 million more.


I love you, Peggy. Thanks for loving me.