Thank You (Warning : Not a damn thing to do with poker)

I haven't played poker, in any form, in more than a week. It's strange and sad. I haven't gone more than a week without a game in more than a year. Short breaks are good for the game and better for the mind. But, usually, I'm so addicted to the action and the companionship of my fellow players, I can't stay off the felt.

Last week, I came to appreciate those friends a little more. I'm far more thankful for the company of my wife. I'm pretty goddamn lucky to have 2 kids.

To be fair, my beloved blog readers, this post isn't really for you as much as it's just for me. At the same time, it is an attempt to thank you all, so if you don't make it to the end....

Thanks.

1994

My memories are like London. The big things leap out and my footsteps are shrouded in fog. I can't remember the names of the people I used to know well or the places we used to go. Sure, I remember the college campus and the concerts and the trip to Amsterdam, but is that memory really mine? We all saw the same thing. As a kid, when we took a school trip to Washington D.C., I took 300 pictures of Smithsonian exhibits. I don't have a single one with my fellow 6th graders. I suck at meaning.

I feel almost guilty, like I've missed the greater part of my own life. I raced through childhood and then again through college. I avoided pictures in college so people have a hard time imagining me with a ponytail to my ass. I avoided damn near everything back then except whatever diversion my hedonism led me to pursue.

Again, it's strange and sad.

But there was this one day, May 12 1994, that makes me seem almost human.

I was in a white convertable, driven by an overweight and over-friendly girl named Rachel. Oddly enough, I couldn't tell you her name except in the context of this story. My roomate was there, and another girl named Molly. I was dating Molly, sorta dating but not really, and Rachel was her best friend.

We parked in the street and walked to the house to drink beer from one of the kegs still left over from a party the week before. Meanwhile, the hot girls across the street were all drinking on the porch.

I loved the house across the street.

The girl downstairs was nuts. She'd bring her giant stereo speakers onto the front porch while she exercised in tight workout clothes. As far as I could tell, the entire workout was comprised of one Proclaimers song and a whole lot of stretching.

I hated the Proclaimers, (I would, in fact, walk almost 500 miles just to be away from that damn song) but it was nice to watch this woman stretch.

Upstairs there were 3 girls. I'd met two of them at one of my bigger parties. I don't actually remember meeting them, but they later said we met and I assume they're telling the truth. I can, after these later meetings attest to the relative hotness of both.

So it was, on this May night, that I met the third girl. She was drinking white wine on porch. She wore a purple striped hat and a raggedy t-shirt. Her jeans were torn in a way that wasn't yet fashionable, and it seemed possible that the wear came from use and not from the Gap. She was the one I noticed from my porch across the street. She was also WAY out of my league. Still, I sent Rachel and Molly home.

I recruited the roommate and two other friends. I grabbed a lukewarm beer. I strolled across the street. Back in the day, I was very bold with these things. But because I was still sober, and had a head full of my own shortcomings, I hit on a different girl. A different blonde named Ashley.

Luckily, Ashley wasn't interested at all.

I talked up a storm to the ladies on the porch. Almost everyone got a little drunk. But the pretty girl in the hat was still sipping the same Chardonnay. I was 19, and thought that seemed sophisticated somehow. I'd barely spoken to her at all.

Then the crazy downstairs girl saved my night, and eventually my life. I was really rapping hard about exactly what kind of music could be defined as "Southern Rock" when a very crazy boyfriend, a car salesman, arrived. He'd had the courtesy, and sense of urgent efficiency, to get drunk on the way over. It was clear in just minutes that he and his crazy girl needed to be alone.

So we went to the park.

There was this really neat park only a block away from our house and we took a frisbee and 3 girls for a game. Sure it was pitch black, well past 11, and yes we were too drunk for a real game, but we went because we had girls and buzz.

Girl with a purple hat taught me to throw a frisbee. As I recall, she picked me up. She knew she could, of course, because she was a beautiful girl, and beautiful girls have little trouble picking anyone up.

Later than night I remember thinking, "I can't believe I'm kissing a girl this pretty."

I assumed it was a fluke.

Wesnesday November 22, 2006

More than 12 years later we have 2 kids together. She's followed me through 5 states and a half-dozen good and bad career moves. She's far more beautiful today.

This past Wednesday was our 9th aniversarry. I'm sure she's had second thoughts about my increasingly fat ass, but I've never doubted my luck in landing her. When you've found a woman way out of your league who seems willing to say, "Yes", LOCK HER IN!

Two days before the aniversarry, we lost our baby. I'd already told everyone about the pregnancy, now I'm telling everyone about our private pain. I'm not certain if we'll try again.

But if the experience taught me anything, I'm lucky to have this woman willing to be my baby's mother.

I don't deserve her.

For the rest of our time together, I'll try to remember the little things I love.

| G-Rob's Thoughts