Just to show you what kind of marriage Eyegal and I have, when it came to planning our 25th anniversary trip to New Orleans, one of the most discussed points on our itinerary was where we would watch the US v. Slovenia match on Friday morning.
I jest of course (slightly), but you know you’re made for each other when you can sort through your priorities like that and still stay married. Twenty-five years ago today, we both said “I do” at the Creve Coeur Overland Church of Christ, promised to stay with each other, walked back down the aisle to a grainy recording of Ronnie Milsap’s “What a Difference You’ve Made In My Life” (apparently all the chamber music quartets were already booked that weekend) and then went out and “Just Did It.”
You know, stayed together. And produced three soccer players. And bought enough Nikes to insure that Phil Knight’s great-great grandchildren get a college education.
But despite the rather inauspicious start of getting married in a second-ring suburb of St. Louis whose name is derived from the French for “heartbreak” (which is what Les Bleus seem determined to do to their partisans in the 2010 World Cup) we’ve stuck it out. Oh sure, we’ve both made our share of “howlers” (thanks to Robert Green and the Brits for bringing that little gem back into the lexicon), but when the preacher said “for better or for worse,” we were young and dumb enough to believe the man actually meant what he said.
So this week, we’ll be leaving the Zeta Theta Theta (ZΘΘ) House unattended for a few days (May God have mercy) and starting our 25th anniversary tour which will take us first through Oxford, Mississippi to satisfy our inner literary geek at Square Books, on to Greenwood for some blues, fine food and dear friends, and finally to “N’awlins” where it will reach its zenith on Friday morning when the Stars and Stripes take on Slovenia, a country so small that its national soccer team doesn’t even have a nickname.
I’m kidding. Sort of. About the zenith. But not about the nickname.
Soccer in New Orleans? It could happen. And maybe even a little more. But since “what happens in N’awlins stays in N’awlins,” don’t be expecting to read about it here.