This Charming Man ....
Seventeen years ago today, Judge Gladys I. Yokum (no shit, that was her name) married us at the courthouse in London, ON, while all our nieces, who were little tykes at the time, ran rampant around the room. It was great.
I was a little hungover, as we had stayed up till 5:00 that morning, drinking with my friend Terri who had flown in from Winnipeg to be a witness. And then I had a 9:00am interview at Employment Canada, as I had just quit my job selling livestock feed and wanted UIC benefits.
And then my dad was being weird and kept asking, as we were taking group shots outside the Middlesex County jailhouse, "what kind of sex is that?"
And then Jerry's dad, who had amputated the tip off his baby finger earlier that week putting on storm windows, was being all sauve and dancing with me and the bandage went flying off the tip of his finger right across the room.
These are old photos of Jer. You should see him now, since working out on the Bowflex for the last year. He is all buff and trim and I am very proud of him.
How does a person live with another person for 17 years? Well, as Jerry so sagely observed last night, he lived with our old cat, Pook, for 16 years, so. Cats, spouses, what's the difference?
So, Jerry, as your mom would say, "HAPPY UNIVERSITY!"
Appropo of nothing, except the title of this post, The Violent Femmes were once playing a show in London, when they were informed that Morrissey was in the audience. So, for an encore, they played "This Charming Man" (for non-Smiths' fans, the lyrics go "I would go out tonight, but I haven't got a stitch to wear"), dressed in nothing but their underpanties. I love those guys.