I’ll continue to let Davis cover Kook’s Kulture Korner, while I keep blogging about science and physics and astrophysics and the business industry.
Actually, today I’m going to write about a few of my co-workers at my new company and some of their secrets.
I know many of you have started the “How long before dddt gets Christian fired from his new job” countdown. Aint gonna happen.
Last night was a bad night. I don’t get too invested in very many sporting events, but this NBA Championship was different. I became very invested. Along with Davis, and all of you, I really dislike Kobe Bryant and wanted him to lose. The Lakers deserved to lose last night. Kobe deserved to lose. He played awfully. It would have been so gratifying for him to lose the entire championship because of his horrible game. Lame, lame, lame, lame, LAME!
But today is a good day for me. It’s my fifth wedding anniversary. It was five and a half years ago that I met my lady in Provo’s finest bronzing salon, Club Tan. I went in to buy a book for a history class. The building Club Tan was in used to belong to a print shop and the sales contract stipulated that the print shop still be allowed to sell books and other printed material to BYU students at the beginning of every semester, since Club Tan was right at the edge of campus (Right across the street from Wendy’s). I was sick and bedraggled. The women behind the register was in her 50’s, but sitting beside her was a pretty young maiden with an intriguing expression on her face. And her face was all I could see, but unlike some people who don’t even think the teeny SYTYCD dancers are good enough for him, that beautiful face was all I needed to know. So I did my best to spread on the charm with the old lady taking my money, as Rebecca was listening to the entire conversation. I was paying with a check and had to go out to my car to get my license. On my way back to inside I said a little prayer:
“I would like to get that girl’s phone number. If you want that to happen, please help me.”
Went back in, extended my conversation with the old woman as long as possible to find some segue, any segue into conversation with Rebecca. It came and I got her digits. Our first kiss followed after a couple weeks, followed after a couple seconds by her looking at me with total surprise and a bit of annoyance and saying “I can’t believe you just did that. I wasn’t ready for that.”
Two weeks before I met Reba I had started feeling for the first time since returning from my mission that I didn’t want and wasn’t going to get married for a few years. I was graduating in a semester and I felt The Africer calling. For the first time in 4 years, this big cat was not on the prowl.
Even though I was often quick to be smitten, Davis had a different feeling about this one when we spoke on the phone after the first date. After marrying off our younger sister the month before (child bride laws in Utah are pretty relaxed), we were the last two left in the family. He told me he could tell I was going to marry Rebecca. I thought he was right. In Rebecca I finally found the combination of a few things (beauty and shark knowledge) I was looking for. She was beautiful, funny, quirky, smart, committed, and I knew she would make a great mother.
Rebecca at a Def Leopard concert on her 7th birthday
We quickly learned that I’m the Venutian and she’s the Martian in our relationship. I’m a puppy dog for affection and can be a cheese ball, while she once admitted that it kind of creeps her out when I bring her flowers (while chocolate definitely doesn’t creep her out. And chocolate only creeps me out if you live in a country where the word “creeps out” means “I would give my left arm and first 3 children for more delicious CHOCOLATE!!!)
Pictured with the medal she received for marrying me
I started out the proposal night by army crawling past the front desk into Club Tan while she was working. I put a few dozen roses onto an open tanning bed (I know you’re thinking “WHITE TRASH!” but this is where we met and I wanted it to be involved) in one of Club Tan’s many nasty, dark, stained-carpet rooms. Before her shift ended, the employee taking over told Reba she wasn’t feeling well and asked if she could go clean that last bed before she left. I was hiding in the furnace closet of the final rose ceremony room. Reba came in, looked confusedly at the 50 roses spread onto the tanning bed, and ran out. I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard her say to a tanner in the lobby,
“Um, I think you left your roses in the bed.”
Lolol. I love to imagine what had gone through her mind:
“Geez, this lady really likes to pamper herself during her twice-weekly, 15 minute tanning sessions.”
Her co-worker convinced her to go back into the room, I jumped out, and we went up the canyon where my friends had created a fire and comfy lounging area for the real proposal.
Not sure why we don’t have any pictures with just the two of us.
Marriage is a mercurial arrangement. Sometimes you think “Devil! I hate your face and hope you’re eaten by snow leopards!” Other times you feel to worship at the feet of your spouse for the mercy and love and support they extend when you don’t deserve it, or even when you do deserve it. But most the time you’re in that middling place of life’s daily mix of struggle and contentment where you realize how healthy it is to have this person intimately tied up with your life. How it gives you structure and regular love and motivation and self-improvement and children and empathy and compensation for your weaknesses and support and strength in numbers. I’m glad Club Tan was created and that I walked in that day and that I said a prayer and that I got her number that Rebecca didn’t have a thing for petite male noses or non-vampire canines.
Happy Anniversary, Reba. You’re the best.
And that’s not even our kid, but I like this picture of Reba