Tuesday, August 30, 2011

The Music Of My Courtship

My first kiss with MB was in a vending room of the Double Tree Hotel in Albuquerque.  It had the immediacy and intensity of a car bomb exploding.  I couldn’t believe I was kissing this woman whose beauty I had found, well honestly, intimidating.  From that seemingly seedy start, something wonderful grew.  We exchanged long emails that started with the trivialities of the day but quickly evolved into expressions longing for each other’s companionship, mine sometimes quoting poets that I liked.  At one point, I even sent her a packet of poems, some of my favorites by others and some that I had written.  For me, this was a large risk.  She was the first woman I ever shared my poetry with in such a comprehensive manner.  I was essentially entrusting her with my heart and she has guarded it zealously ever since.

I decided to be with MB for the rest of my life at a sidewalk cafe/toy store in Albuquerque, New Mexico, right before her return flight to Indiana after a week long visit. She had excused herself from the table to go to the bathroom; and in that short time, I had decided to move closer to her and commit myself to her.  It was the best decision I ever made.

And there were, of course, mix tapes.  (Streaming music was impractical because we were all using dial up modems).  Like most courtships, ours has revolved around music, and specific times of the relationship can arrest my memory most vividly upon hearing certain tunes. For example, hearing “Someone’s Daughter” or “My Invisible Gun” instantly takes me back to the two hour, 4 AM drive to the Albuquerque airport to catch an early morning flight to stay with her during spring break.  MB had sent me a cassette of songs she loved, and I listened to it as the moon filled my darkened truck cab, loving them sometimes for no other reason than because she loved them.  “Charm Attack” was on the mix tape she made me for my final move home from living in AZ.  This tape was a radio show that she had hosted, complete with skits from the Red Bud Players.  (“Red Bud Players” = people she worked with.)  It was a great, hilarious, loving effort.  I smiled all the way home to her.

 I’m still smiling today.  Happy Anniversary, MB.  I love you so much.
(Enjoy this non-comprehensive collection of songs from our courtship.)

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