And well you might wonder, but as it happens, it's as good a symbol of why I'm sending a postcard today as any. You see, 30 years ago today, I stood one person away from the artist as she married this guy, who was the one person standing between us. There are only a few things I remember about that day, one of which is that I was already getting a little chunky and my suit was too tight. I remember the venue, because it was their house, and I remember some tidbits about other people in attendance because big social events for other people are always fraught with other other people, but I'm damned if I can remember who my date was.
Nah, I remember her too. Really, really bad choice, as it happened, and it took the artist a while to forgive me for it, a stance I found reasonable then, and now find unassailably reasonable. But forgive she did, and with a whole heart, because if she didn't, that art up there wouldn't be hanging on my dining room wall. So thanks for that, Earthgirl, and thanks even more for giving me the chance for you to become a beloved, too, after such a wretched twentysomething start.
Happy 30th anniversary, beloveds. Long strange trip and all that. For you, for us, for all. In March, I wrote about constants in my life, bedrocks of my creed. Y'all made one; y'all are one, individually and collectively. My wish for you is, always, to have the free to hike together. See you for the really weird thing soon.