Today, April 1, 2026, is our thirty-first wedding anniversary. Yup, I know, April Fool’s Day. Who gets married on April Fool’s Day? Well, my wife and I did, and the primary reason we chose the day was that it was practical. Since no sensible people get married on April Fools ‘ Day, it was easy to line up a church and hall for the celebration. That’s one of the reasons I married my wife. She’s practical. None of the bridezilla garbage that some women put their husbands through, where everything’s got to be perfect, and if it isn’t, they freak out and throw a temper tantrum like a spoiled child. My wife’s an adult and acts like one, something that’s sadly rare in modern times.
I first met Karen at a singles party held at the Dedham Hilton. I would go there most Saturdays, hoping to find someone to spend my life with (or at least get laid). Neither plan ever worked out. I’d start the event very optimistically, but as the night progressed and I came to the realization that this wasn’t going to be the night, I’d descend upon the buffet to get my fill of sausage and onions. I’m still not sure why you would serve sausage and onions at a singles party, since it seemed like a good way to keep people apart, but they did, and it was a decent consolation prize for a night that didn’t end the way it was planned.
Anyway, Saturday came around, and I planned to go to the Dedham Hilton yet again, but I noticed late in the day that one of my car’s headlights had died. Any sensible person would have just written the night off, but for some reason, I really felt the need to attend the night’s party. I raced out to the local auto store, got the headlamp, and, because things are never easy, struggled to install it. It was getting late, I was hot, sweaty, and tired, but I still decided to make the trek to the Hilton. It’s funny how little decisions have big consequences.
It was a pretty typical night. I mostly stood around, drank beer, and occasionally talked to other guys, most of whom seemed angry and unemployed.
That night, there was a woman there who was a regular at every party. She was nice, but she seemed like she came from a different time, maybe the 40’s. She had bleached blonde hair, dressed very nicely, and wore really heavy makeup. She always appeared a little bit awkward, but was nice enough. On this particular evening, it looked like she was having a problem with some guy my wife and I now refer to as ‘the bug-eyed guy.’
‘The bug-eyed guy’ was a young man I had never seen at one of the parties before, who was following women around, staring at them, and never blinking. I suspect he really wasn’t a threat, just a guy who was clueless and had probably read a self-help book about how you’re supposed to make eye contact with a woman. Anyway, his attention seemed focused on the blonde woman, and she appeared distressed by it. Always trying to be a knight in shining armor, I decided to intervene and went over to ask her to dance, hoping to interrupt his pursuit.
My plan worked. He wandered off, probably to harass some other woman, and I danced with the blonde lady, whom I had seen many times before but had never interacted with. She was grateful for my intervention, and although she was nice enough, she was not my type. While dancing with her, I learned that her mother had died when she was young and that she had been brought up by her father, which probably explained her awkwardness. The things you learn when you talk with people. We danced a bit and then parted ways, me making my way back across the room and grabbing a beer along the way.
On the way back to my table, I walked past this rather attractive young lady who smiled at me as I was passing by. She was clearly the prettiest girl in the room, and I decided that I wanted to approach her. Eventually, I worked up the courage to go over and talk to her. She seemed as nice as she looked. I learned that she had come with a friend and had actually planned to spend the night at home until the friend persuaded her to go out. She was there grudgingly, hoping that her friend would find someone and that the night would be over. We talked for a while, and the thing that attracted me to her the most was the way she talked about her family and upbringing. She had a happy childhood, wonderful parents, brothers, and a sister with whom she was really close. So refreshing. I’ve met so many people in my life who obsess about how miserable their childhoods were. While some have the right to complain, others are just finding someone or something to blame for their unhappiness. Anyway, we continued talking, found we had a lot in common, and when her friend returned with her catch for the night, we all headed out to Bickford’s for late-night pancakes. We ended the night by exchanging phone numbers, went on a series of dates, and eventually ended up married.
It’s been a long time. Not every minute was perfect; after all, it takes a bit for people just starting out to adjust to each other and get used to sharing their lives rather than being independent. Still, we got there, and overall, it’s been a wonderful thirty-one years.
It’s interesting how many things had to be in place for us to be where we are today. For example, if I hadn’t fixed my headlight, I wouldn’t have gone to the party. Then, if her friend hadn’t persuaded her to go out, she wouldn’t have been at the party either. Furthermore, if ‘the bug-eyed guy’ hadn’t been there, the blonde woman wouldn’t have been harassed, and I wouldn’t have attempted to ‘rescue’ her. That ‘rescue,’ my wife says, was something she witnessed and was one of the reasons she was receptive to me. In hindsight, everything went the way the Universe had planned.
Some things are meant to be, and I suspect Karen and Al are one of them. After all these years, I still love her; I still think she’s the prettiest girl in the room, and with any luck, we’ll still have many happy years to share together.
