My folks' anniversary
My folks' anniversary
Yesterday was my parents' 29th wedding anniversary. In December of 1975, my folks, fresh out of college, wandered over to the Justice of the Peace, and got hitched. They did so in the back of a five and dime store in Dayton, Tennessee.
Yeah, Dayton's not your typical wedding destination, but then, my folks have never been big on tradition.
I joked once that it was done at the end of a shotgun barrel. Naw. It was a small revolver.
The ceremony itself was interrupted by a woman needing to bring her children into the back of the store to use its bathroom (the JotP told her to wait). My mom wore blue jeans and a blouse. My dad wore his work pants and a flannel shirt.
My folks have never been big on ceremony or tradition. They're a very pragmatic couple of people. I kinda think the lack of pomp and ceremony as a youth is what's led to my fascination with both awards ceremonies and professional wrestling...
They're both the youngest children in their families (my Mom's the youngest of three, and my Dad's the youngest of eight), so they'd already both been through the hoopla and hullaballoo of a large family wedding ceremony. They way I understand it, they'd been dating, and they decided that it was time to get married, and they went and did it. No big ceremony. No big party.
Their wedding night, my folks went to a Tennessee Wesleyan College basketball game.
So, Happy Anniversary to my folks.
A couple of other quick things: I'd forgotten that it was their anniversary, until I'd talked to my mother and she said she and Dad were going out to eat. Luckily, my Dad doesn't have any problems remembering. He just remembers his anniversary's proximity to Pearl Harbor Day.
One last thing, for the benefit of extended family:
I was born in February of 1977.
Let's do the math, since it's a subject of much hilarity at family gatherings. Parents were born in December of 1975. I was born in February 1977. Some 14 months after they were married. The joke is that, somehow, the jokers in the extended family forget an entire bicentennial year, and they like to rib that I was born 2 months after the folks were married.
It's not much of a joke, especially when I have to eat Thanksgiving dinner out on the "Illegitimate's Porch," but you'd be amazed at the years and years and years of mileage out of it....
Yesterday was my parents' 29th wedding anniversary. In December of 1975, my folks, fresh out of college, wandered over to the Justice of the Peace, and got hitched. They did so in the back of a five and dime store in Dayton, Tennessee.
Yeah, Dayton's not your typical wedding destination, but then, my folks have never been big on tradition.
I joked once that it was done at the end of a shotgun barrel. Naw. It was a small revolver.
The ceremony itself was interrupted by a woman needing to bring her children into the back of the store to use its bathroom (the JotP told her to wait). My mom wore blue jeans and a blouse. My dad wore his work pants and a flannel shirt.
My folks have never been big on ceremony or tradition. They're a very pragmatic couple of people. I kinda think the lack of pomp and ceremony as a youth is what's led to my fascination with both awards ceremonies and professional wrestling...
They're both the youngest children in their families (my Mom's the youngest of three, and my Dad's the youngest of eight), so they'd already both been through the hoopla and hullaballoo of a large family wedding ceremony. They way I understand it, they'd been dating, and they decided that it was time to get married, and they went and did it. No big ceremony. No big party.
Their wedding night, my folks went to a Tennessee Wesleyan College basketball game.
So, Happy Anniversary to my folks.
A couple of other quick things: I'd forgotten that it was their anniversary, until I'd talked to my mother and she said she and Dad were going out to eat. Luckily, my Dad doesn't have any problems remembering. He just remembers his anniversary's proximity to Pearl Harbor Day.
One last thing, for the benefit of extended family:
I was born in February of 1977.
Let's do the math, since it's a subject of much hilarity at family gatherings. Parents were born in December of 1975. I was born in February 1977. Some 14 months after they were married. The joke is that, somehow, the jokers in the extended family forget an entire bicentennial year, and they like to rib that I was born 2 months after the folks were married.
It's not much of a joke, especially when I have to eat Thanksgiving dinner out on the "Illegitimate's Porch," but you'd be amazed at the years and years and years of mileage out of it....
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