Golden years

Fifty years ago on this very date, a young girl from Mattapoisett, MA said “I do” to a roguish young man from the wilds of West Virginia who just happen to have a bitchin’ Cadillac.  And lo and behold: the blogosphere’s wackiest parents were born…though they wouldn’t technically become parents until the following September (and even though I’ve been called one often enough, I need to reassure the TDOY faithful that it was not a shotgun wedding).

My parents, flanked by my grandfather ("Papa Jack") and grandmother ("Nana Kaye") on my mom's side.  (Notice there is no shotgun.)

Ivan (Ike) Sr. and Irene Shreve are celebrating their golden one today—but lengthy marriages are kind of a thing in my father’s family; my grandparents (Steve and Bertha) were married for fifty-plus, and my Aunt Jane and Uncle Marvin chalked up the big five-o this year as well.  (My Aunt Nat/Uncle Ted are also enjoying their twilight years, and before the passings of my Uncle Joe and Uncle Don they both were well acquainted with marital longevity as well.)  If you were to ask me how “the ‘rents” continue to make it work I’d be stymied for an answer—I only know that though some of the arguments would rival any sitcom couple (Frank and Marie Barone are the first that come to mind) my Mom and Dad genuinely love and respect one another, and fifty years in the trenches hasn’t changed that one iota.

No, my father was not married before...this was his brother Don's wedding, at which Dad served as best man.  (Dad was also best man at his brother Marvin's wedding...he had a real cottage industry going back in those days.)

Dad got Mom a nice watch to mark the occasion, and she in turn purchased for him a new recliner that has not only gotten a good workout from the person sitting in it (Dad) but has inspired a new round of wisecracks from their smartass son (for some reason the chair is higher than his old one, so I have suggested getting him a stepladder in order to allow his grandson to approach the recliner come lap time rather than teaching Davis to pole vault).  There will be a celebratory dinner at the Double K Ranch this evening, followed by a surprise that will knock both of their socks off.

Somewhere buried in all the bric-a-brac we've collected over the years is an 8mm film of the nuptials...and during the cake eating my Dad actually bites my Mom's hand.  Just an indication of things to come, I guess.

As such, I’m going to have to put the start of Serial Saturdays’ presentation of Don Winslow of the Navy off until next Saturday.  (I’m also racing a deadline on an outside project, so…)  So, yeah—this was the earth shattering announcement I alluded to in my last post and while it might not seem that way, I just wanted to give a shout-out to my favorite couple.  Mom and Dad…I love you both very much.