Monday, February 6, 2017


    ((Reworked from a 2012 post.)

   My husband & I are celebrating our 62nd anniversary today.  I feel that gives me the right to make a suggestion.  For some time now, I’ve felt that marriage licenses should be treated more like driver’s licenses.  You should either have the option to renew them every 5 years or so, or turn them back in--never to drive, or to be married, again.  I would probably have renewed mine, but as for Bud--who knows?  Let me give you some examples of why I say “probably”.

   To get to our home from the freeway, we drive east on Santa Monica Blvd.  A few years ago, the city made Santa Monica a divided street.  Some business & street entrances (including our street) were then located off a service road.  There are two places to turn onto our service road & then onto our street.  It really makes no difference which turn you take.  Bud always takes the second (most easterly) one.  I told him I usually take the first turn.  He looked at me like he couldn’t believe it & said, “Well, that’s just wrong!!”  To this day, I have no idea why.

   We still find each other (reasonably) attractive.  Perhaps that’s due to failing eyesight caused by old age.  We have both added a few pounds over the years.  My features are still good—but my face needs ironing. We both suffer from an advanced case of altakockeritis.  This is a disease that old Jews get that can’t be fully explained to those not of our faith.  (Think of it as a sort of mild form of Alzheimer’s.)  We share the belief that you know your relationship is solid when one of you can belch (or pass gas) & both of you can laugh.  Does this mean it’s true that love means never having to say you’re sorry?
    I used to ask Bud, as a joke, “Are you still glad you married me?”   Depending on what had occurred prior to my asking, he would either smile & say, “Yes”, or moan & say sarcastically, “Oh, boy, am I EVER glad!”   For our 25th anniversary he gave me a charm which I wear on a neck chain.  It is one ounce of silver in the shape of an ingot.  On the front it says, “25” & on the back is “I’m glad”, my husband’s name & the date.  We went out to dinner with our family to celebrate our 50th anniversary.  I fully expected a gold version of the charm.  What I got instead was a cake he had ordered.  It was a loaf cake with yellow frosting, shaped like an ingot with a ring on one end to slip a “chain” through.  Written on the top was “I’m glad”.  I laughed & told him how clever I thought that was & asked him where my real gold one was.  He asked if I knew how much gold was selling for these days & said he wasn’t sure if I was still worth it.  I’m pretty sure he was kidding, but I’m still waiting for my gold ingot.

            My mother belonged to an organization that raised money to help retarded children.  She was being installed as president at their annual “Lollipop Ball.”  It was held at a downtown hotel & our ticket package included free parking in a lot directly across the street.  Bud instead drove into the hotel’s parking lot, for which we would have to pay extra.  I reminded him that the lot across the street would be free.  He told me that he knew that, but he was too rich to walk across the street!!  (Note: That was the day I stopped clipping coupons.  I’ve often felt that my husband & I live in two different worlds--& his is better!!)

       His parents were married 64½ years when his mom passed away.  When people would ask what her secret was for such a long marriage, her answer was “inertia”.  It was easier to stay married than to do something about it.  Besides, who in their right mind would want to break in--& train--a new husband?

          My parents were also married over 50 years.  They were married on August 23rd.  There were times when he really couldn’t afford it, but on the 23rd of every month, my dad gave my mom a dozen yellow roses, which signify joy & happiness.  He said their entire married life was like a honeymoon.  When she died, he had a blanket of yellow roses placed over her coffin.  Later, when he passed away, we had his coffin covered with yellow roses, too.  It seemed appropriate.  I hope all of you are as happy together as they were.

A joke for you:
My boyfriend and I broke up.
He wanted to get married... I didn't want him to.
I realize I may not be perfect, either.  That’s why I gave Bud this card on one of our anniversaries:

We've been married 62 years; that's 16.67 years Celsius----fishducky