Happy Anniversary

Tonight marks 18 years of marriage. 18 is quite a number--the number of years before the passage to adulthood, as it is hard to believe that some kid is now allowed to vote after existing for as long as we have been married. On an completely non romantic and non reflective note, it is the jersey # of one of the best base stealers in the '80's MLB (who happened to have an 18 year career), the number I wore playing baseball in my glory days. I would be remiss to not mention that, while 18 is not a prime number, it is close in its coolness. And marriage is quite a cool thing, especially this one. Without Karen I can confidently say that I wouldn't be where I am today.

Little did I know 18 years ago tonight that I would be playing Christmas carols with the entire fam while sitting around our suburban enclave...on a guitar, no less, an instrument that is slowly becoming less unnatural to me, after wasting 8 years of my parents' hard earned caiiish on piano lessons when I was a non-practicing imp. K and S on the piano (duet), A on the sax, and me strummin' along. On the last run through we actually sounded decent, but we're not (and never will be) the von Trapps.

Great weekend of getting things ready for the Christmas cavalcades. We went to the annual party at Mike and Diane's place, a party that has morphed into a showcase of musical and lyrical talent. It's become a tradition that more and more people perform, and we and our neighbors did our annual butchering of some Christmas carol in the manner of relating to local life and times, and it was well-received (so well-received last year that the evite poll required us to create a new song). Hanging out with our friends, kids running around being kids and teenagers, and plenty of good stuff flowing. It was, as usual, a great time.

When Mike turned 40 a couple of years ago, he had an "Open Mike" (get it?) night party, where all of us were to perform some sort of musical number. Paul and I decided to "explore the space" since we "had a fever" and that was that. Another great party. They're all memorable, especially when kids break their arms at them.

These are the parties that we went to when we were the kids, watching our parents let their hair down a little while we were hanging with our buddies and trying to figure out how this all fit together. Then we started having them as teenagers while our parents were in the inner recesses of the house, venturing out only to show that they were still boss, but trusting us enough. Then of course the group house parties where the neighbors call the cops because we're too loud, or the beast from the hills stalks one of your housemates because he gave him the hairy eyeball. Then parties turned into "soirees", when we were young and sans kids, but less raucous and more mellow because we were more "mature." And then we didn't have them for awhile because the house becomes the domain of the napoleonic tyrants who don't care that your're no longer cool, since now it's ALL ABOUT THEM. And then they get older and we can let our hair down again, although some of us don't have any of that anymore. And the cycle begins anew.